The Duality Bridge (Singularity #2) (Singularity Series)

by Susan Kaye Quinn

  “You’re not delivering anyone anywhere,” Grayson says, voice harsh. He looks like he wants to take Caleb down but can’t figure out how—at least, not without me dying the process. Marcus exchanges a look with Leopold, and I think they’re planning something. I hold up my hands to keep them all from doing anything drastic.

  Caleb jabs a human finger at them. “Don’t tempt me, soulless ones! I’ll kill your pet before you reach me and take my penance, if I must.” He’s back to angry, whispery words in my ear. “All your slippery devil tricks, all your escapes, through the operation, through the invasion of the camp, even from the soulless one’s grasp… you so tempted me, devil! I would have killed you already if it wouldn’t forfeit my time in heaven. But my patience will be rewarded, because this time… this time, you will not escape.”

  He’s the traitor. He was all along, every step of the way, and somehow we never saw it. Commander Astoria herself vouched for him—even Grayson seems stunned by Caleb’s words.

  Kamali and Tristan are whispering, but all I can hear is Caleb’s madness. “A storm is coming, but it is the Lord! The day of purification is at hand, and he will sweep away all things not righteous and true. And my place with the Lord will be assured! For I will have saved the Lord’s people from the false—”

  He’s cut off by Marcus suddenly appearing behind us. Caleb’s hand wrenches forcefully from my throat, but I can still breathe as I stagger away. Kamali rushes to my side to keep me from falling.

  “I don’t think so,” Marcus says calmly. Caleb is on his knees before him with Marcus’s hand at his throat. Caleb thrashes, clawing at Marcus’s bodyform hand with his own ascender-tech one, but Caleb’s throat is entirely human. Marcus could end him with a simple squeeze.

  “Marcus, don’t kill him,” I wheeze, rubbing my neck and still backing away with Kamali’s help. Tristan takes a position in front of me, something that surprises me even as I let him do it. Grayson hovers next to Caleb and Marcus, serving as backup muscle. But Caleb’s not going anywhere.

  Leopold speaks up. “He may have useful information, Marcus.”

  Marcus makes a sound of disgust then tosses Caleb to the concrete floor of the garage, still alive. Caleb half coughs, half laughs as he sprawls out.

  Then I hear it. We all hear it. The sound of a hundred glass walls breaking. Above us, a dozen transports descend on an avalanche of glass. Caleb laughs, a coughing sound full of madness, then he scrambles inside Marcus’s transport. All of us dash after him to avoid the tsunami of glass about to rain on our heads.

  Too late, I realize Caleb never intended to kill me.

  He was stalling.

  They take us with hardly a fight.

  Our ship is disabled before it can take off. More sentries than I can count swarm aboard. Leopold and Marcus are locked down with glazed-over eyes. They march their bodyforms along without protest. Caleb strides over the blasted parts of Marcus’s sentries with a crazed grin, as if the mountains of glass and ripped-apart bots were the fulfillment of his every wish. The rest of the humans—me, Kamali, Tristan, and Grayson—are shepherded past the ruined remains of the research facility.

  Glass crunches under our boots. Grayson’s ship lies broken and smoking, his militia buried somewhere inside. We board Augustus’s ship, and it lifts us out of the wreckage of the facility. There’s not an ascender in the entire operation, but there’s no question where the order came from.

  Kamali’s determined look has never been so fierce, and Tristan is right next to her, his face carved with a hatred more intense and cold than I’ve ever seen. At least it’s not directed at me this time—his loathing is all for the anonymous sentries guarding us in the passenger hold of the transport. Grayson scans every niche of the bare-metal floors and walls like he might find a spare ascender-tech weapon to make our escape. But I know better.

  There’s no escape from this.

  In a way, knowing that frees my mind. It floats above the ravaging panic that’s circulating through my body and pumping adrenaline through my veins along with the certainty of our deaths. Kamali’s. Tristan’s. Grayson will probably be the first to die when he tries something to free us. Marcus and Leopold may already be dead for all I can tell by their mechanically-stiff stances, lined up like two deactivated med bots in the corner. The only one among us who might survive is Caleb. And he really deserves to die for all his betrayals.

  Although I doubt he was ever truly in the Resistance.

  Not unlike me.

  I push that wayward thought to the side. I need to focus on the only thing that matters now: stopping Augustus’s abomination. I’m sure we’re headed straight for him. I have a guess as to why, and it’s worse than dying in a glass-shattered research lab—Augustus wants to feed us to the Mind.

  That might involve dying. Or it might not. Dying might be preferable to having the Mind eat our souls. Or our minds. Whatever that blue spark was that was dragged from the back of that man’s head and sucked into the pink blob. I’d prefer not to die or have my essence sucked into the Mind, but this isn’t about whether I die or not. Or any of us really. It’s completely about stopping Augustus. Because if we don’t, the humans in the Resistance will be next. And then the legacies. And the ascenders, too, for all I know. In my vision, the storm swept up everyone in its path.

  Everyone.

  I breathe in and out, slow. Calm. I’m going to need it to access the fugue, or at least try. I avoid looking at Kamali and the others. I can’t afford to.

  I don’t feel us land, but the sentries spring into action and march us out of the hold. I’m completely unsurprised to emerge in front of a white mountain estate with a private transport landing pad, but the size of the mansion catches me off guard. It was obviously designed by someone in love with ancient Greek architecture. Soaring white marble columns. Carved frescos of epic battles between monsters and humans. Gods and mortals. I’m sure I know which one Augustus thinks he is.

  We file up the steps, through a gilded entryway filled with canvases taller than I am, and into a lift the size of a freight elevator. It easily holds the two sentries that accompany our entourage of five humans and two puppet-like ascenders. I’m not sure if should count Caleb as a human. My stomach says we’re plummeting far into the rocky mountainside below.

  Breathe in. Breathe out.

  When the door slides open, we’re escorted down a long, chilled hallway. The steady clomp of mechanical feet and the softer press of human boots are the only sounds. At the end, we reach a set of doors that opens to a room I’m entirely expecting to see: Augustus’s lab.

  The amount of time that’s transpired since I was here in the fugue state? I’m not entirely sure, but it’s measured in minutes, not hours. The deja vu is jarring, but it helps to keep my dissociated state. Three ascenders still work the machines at the periphery of the room, but the rest have cleared out. Augustus has his back to us, still focused on his Mind-in-a-box, although I can’t see it past the bulk of his bodyform. I’m surprised there’s a man kneeling, head bent, on the floor in front of Augustus. I glance at Kamali, Tristan, and Grayson just to check that they’re all right—they march with gritty determination just behind me. Marcus and Leopold trudge steadily at the back.

  Caleb’s look of ecstatic joy slowly dims as he takes in the room. “I’ve brought you the false prophet,” he says to Augustus, but his voice is hushed and his eyes wide. “He is ready to die at your command.”

  “And he will.” Augustus turns to face us, revealing the pink lump in the box behind him. He lifts his hand in a slight wave, and two ascenders flit with eye-blurring speed to Caleb’s side. “But you first, my friend.”

  “What is this?” Caleb’s voice fills with horror as the two ascenders grab hold of his arms. “This was not our agreement.” Then his gaze falls on the pink lump behind Augustus, and his face pales.

  He looks to me but, it’s too late—the ascenders shove him to the polished steel floor before the next heartbeat. One hold
s him down, while the other is ready with an implant chip. I know what they’re going to do, and Caleb surely does, but the rest don’t.

  Kamali gasps. The horror on her face, the back of her hand pressed to her mouth—I have to look away, or I’m not going to keep the calm I need to reach the fugue. And now seems like a good time to try… only Caleb’s screaming and writhing on the floor as they inject the chip. Then there’s an echoing silence when his body goes limp.

  I can’t help but drag my gaze to the pink lump in the box. I’m sure Caleb’s essence is now winding its way below, being absorbed into the fleshy surface. I’m not in the fugue, so I can’t see his blue spark, but I know he’s inside the Mind now. If “he” still exists at all.

  Augustus makes a small flicking motion with his hand, and his two ascenders drag Caleb’s body away. Our two sentry-escorts follow them out and take stations just outside the door. Once they’re gone, that leaves only one ascender in the room besides Augustus. She hasn’t left her place at the machinery, but her glittering steel skin makes me almost certain it’s Hypatia.

  Augustus trains his brilliant blue eyes on me and spreads his arms wide, like I’m actually his son, and he’s welcoming me home from a long journey. “Elijah Brighton,” he says with a smirk. “Glad you could finally join us.”

  The kneeling man, who has remained bent this entire time, whips his head up to stare at me. I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am—it’s Nathaniel, my captor in the Cleansed cult. Augustus must have rounded him up in his hunt for me.

  Nathaniel shuffles forward on his knees. “You’ve come!” he gushes, which completely perplexes me. Augustus frowns for a moment, then ignores the man as if he’s a dog with the bad manners to bark.

  Augustus returns his gaze to me. “Do you know why you’re still alive, Eli?”

  “You have a soft spot for Lenora’s favorite student?” I’m prodding for information on Lenora, but mostly I’m distracting him. I step forward, then fold my legs as I sit on the floor, right where Caleb’s body used to be. I ignore the smear of his blood left over from the implant and rest my hands on my knees, palms up.

  Breathe in. Breathe out.

  Augustus’s scowl chases away his smirk, and I have to focus on my breathing in order not to smile at how easily I’ve thrown him. Then he takes a step back, giving me room—something I don’t expect, and which kills any urge I have to grin. Or any inclination to believe I have a real advantage here.

  “Lenora sends her regards.” A cruel smile tugs at his lips. “She would tell you herself, but she’s rather scattered at the moment.”

  My heart lurches, and I try not to let the words affect me. I don’t really succeed. I know he has her. Her personal key must be broken by now. I’m probably too late to save her, not that I’m saving any of us. She’s lost, but she can still be found. Those are Leopold’s words, and I don’t know if he would still say them, but I use them as an anchor to drag down my feelings. My human concerns. All the emotions that will get in the way of me slipping into the fugue.

  “She did tell me a great deal about your time together,” Augustus continues. “I have to say her perspective was rather disgusting up close, but I learned so much about you.”

  “You don’t know anything about Eli.” It’s Kamali behind me.

  I blink, distracted for a moment. What is she doing?

  Augustus huffs a small laugh. “Is that right?”

  “Lenora doesn’t know everything.” Her voice is fully of defiance, and I feel her knee nudge my back. She’s standing right behind me. “You have no idea what Eli’s capable of.”

  The smile disappears from Augustus’s face, and I could swear a shadow crosses his skin, a wisp of emotion, but it’s gone before I’m sure.

  She’s baiting him. Even more amazing: it’s working.

  Meanwhile, her knee nudges my shoulder a second time. It’s not a massage—not even close—but it’s a signal. It’s time.

  Augustus’s voice pitches up. “Well, I guess we’ll see—”

  “Augustus,” I say, cutting him off. “I see you’ve found a new plaything.” I tip my head to Nathaniel.

  The ripple of emotion on Augustus’s face is noticeable this time. I’m annoying him. But he lets out a dry chuckle. “Nathaniel will have to wait his turn, now that you’re here.”

  Nathaniel looks quickly between me and Augustus. “No! Don’t let him take you, Eli—”

  He’s cut off by a bolt of white hot energy that jumps from Augustus’s palm to Nathaniel’s chest. The man convulses, and I can’t help but jerk with surprise. Nathaniel lets out a guttural groan, then collapses forward on his hands. He stays there, on hands and knees, his chest wheezing. But he’s still alive.

  “I see you have quite the little fan club,” Augustus says coolly while taking slow, measured strides toward me.

  My time is running out. I drop my chin to my chest, head bowed like his other prisoners. Defeated. I watch his bare ascender feet through half-lidded eyes, blurring out the real world.

  You’re in a safe place. Kamali’s words. Her knee touches my back again.

  Nothing can harm you here. The master’s voice rings in my memory.

  Om mani padme hum. The Dalai sings to me with his boy-voice not yet deepened. Om mani padme hum.

  “Om mani padme hum,” my lips whisper-sing along. “Om mani—”

  —padme hum.

  I’m in the fugue. Elation drives me up from the floor. I look back to see my body has slumped even more forward. Kamali drops to one knee to hold me upright.

  I turn toward the Mind. I have very little time, and I can’t be distracted by whatever Augustus decides to do next. I’m instantly drawn to stand just outside the box. I have to destroy it, but how? What is the weakness in this organic machine teeming with souls?

  I have no idea.

  I plunge my hand inside.

  I’m transported into the whirling brown storm. It fires with the electric life of borrowed souls, crackling with blue energy all around me. The wind is hot, and it reeks of death. The storm isn’t really a brain—I’m guessing Augustus kept its sentience level low so he could control it—and it doesn’t seem to know I’m here. It’s truly a force of nature with no will, no direction, except to blow endlessly.

  How do I stop this? I yell into the howling gusts. Not that I’m expecting an answer. In my visions, each time I begged Kamali to give me the answer, all she ever said was that same, tired phrase.

  You are the bridge.

  I am a bridge of sorts—I believe that now, in a way I didn’t before—but it doesn’t help.

  Unless it does.

  A clarity comes to my mind, a clear tone, a single note of thought: some bridges are meant to be crossed.

  Augustus feeds souls to the Mind for a reason—he’s creating a dozen bridges of his own, building a conduit to the fugue state out of the souls of humans who already possess, by their nature, some part of that connection.

  Maybe I can undo his work.

  I am the bridge. I shout the words into the heated wind. Caleb is in here somewhere, charging the storm with the blue fire of his soul. And he needs to cross the bridge to be released from the Mind. As soon as I focus on him, an electric blue streak charges out of the roiling brown cloud and heads straight for me.

  I hold my arms out, beckoning it, then brace for the drowning feeling that comes whenever someone touches me in the fugue. Only this time, the entirety of Caleb’s essence will be traveling through me and going… somewhere else. I’m not sure where, but he won’t be trapped in the Mind any longer.

  It’s possible we’ll both end up in the void.

  As the blue charge hits, Caleb’s life washes through me like an enormous ocean wave smacking flat to my face. In an instant, I see every moment, every memory, every imprinted pattern in his brain. He was born into the Cleansed cult, the last of five sons to a mother who died as he was born. He lost his hand at twelve for stealing an extra portion of bread. His gnawing hunger
was a beast inside him, an evil beast—the devil inhabiting his skin. He spent every waking moment in a constant struggle. His ongoing punishments—self-inflicted lashes that left his back laced with blood—were perpetual attempts to drive out the beast. The pain released his sin, but he yearned for the purification day, praying it would come during that blessed time between his momentary salvation through atonement and his next sin. Only then would he finally be free of the original sin of his mother’s death.

  Just as Caleb’s essence slips away to elsewhere, I feel a wrenching sorrow. A regret. But then he’s gone. Every memory of his still resides inside me, a silver trace of his life, but Caleb is free of the Mind.

  The storm’s howl dims slightly.

  I’m still here.

  I call the other cult member—the one with the implant whose name I don’t know, but whose face is imprinted in my memory. Another blue bolt arcs across the swirling clouds and blasts into me. I’m flooded with his memories. His name is John. His is a short lifetime of sacrifice and love denied. I live his life in miniature, an instant filled with everything… and then he’s gone.

  My mind is coming apart at the seams.

  I focus on holding myself together. I don’t have to command the next one—it comes screaming out of the murk, seeking me, eager for release… one by one, they come, faster and faster… until the memories splatter against my mind, fracturing it, tearing at the weave… it’s too much… I’m pummeled and lashed and shredded with each pounding wave…

  The tsunami moves on.

  Its swell passes beneath me, leaving me adrift in a crowded flotsam of memories, each lapping at the frayed edges of my being. The same vagueness as the void fills me, like the thousand pieces of myself can’t come together enough to care about anything.