When he gets to me, he grins.
“Let’s watch a few Illuminauts episodes when you get back.”
I nod at him, feeling a little numb. How can Kit think there’s a next time waiting around the corner for us? My anger at Babel flickers back to life. Did they lie to Kit the same way they lied to us? They’re successfully making all the distant battlefields murkier. If our lives are on the line, we’re going to fight, but it would be a lot easier if we had obvious enemies in the crosshairs.
The Imago escorts lead us away from Foundry. We walk until we reach the crooking elbow of the adjacent river. On the map I can see that this is actually a meeting point of five different rivers, which rope through the terrain like tentacles. Kit was right. For about fifty kilometers, there’s not a single section of land that isn’t diced into pieces by rivers and creeks and lakes. I’m surprised, though, when we spot a massive complex looming out through the trees.
Speaker gestures that way. “We are passing the site that gave this continent its name: Grimgarden.”
It almost looks like a mansion. Three connected towers angle skyward, windows broken, their lowest stories consumed by ivy and underbrush. Only a few strings of bright flowers offer their color to the dark face of the long-faded building.
Speaker’s quiet voice barely carries over the river’s distant thunder. “Named for a general who made his home here. Back in a time when our people still warred with one another. Thousands died on this plain. Thousands more died in defense of that river crossing. The general lived in Grimgarden and dedicated the last years of his life to burying the dead. We do not know his name.”
Speaker smiles at the thought.
“He did not believe he should be remembered. Too many men died at his command. So he had his name torn from every record. He succeeded in removing his name, but no one can remove the legacy of his honor. The entire continent was renamed in memoriam: Grimgarden.”
We watch all three Imago stride toward the grounds, take a knee, offer a quiet word. We’re all a little shocked when Holly follows them and takes a knee as well. I glance over at Morning, but she shrugs like who the hell knows? There’s something so sacred about it all that even Katsu doesn’t make any jokes.
Around the next bend, two pristine boats wait for us. They’re almost flawless copies of the ships we practiced with in the Waterway. I turn to say something to Morning and find Omar striding next to me instead. It’s easy to forget how massive he is until he’s right in your face.
“Absent Anton, I am forced to step in as a chaperone.”
Morning smacks his arm from the other side. “Seriously, Omar?”
“You realize Anton wasn’t chaperoning us.”
Omar makes a two-fingered gesture, pointing at his eyes and then at me.
“I am watching your every move,” he says. “Morning is … a delicate flower that—”
His sentence gets cut in two as Morning takes his massive arm into a painful twist behind his back. A sharp gasp escapes his lips. “A delicate what?” she asks.
Omar grunts his answer. “… warrior queen?”
She releases him, grinning. “That’s more like it.”
In two strides, though, he’s back between us.
“She might be able to beat me up,” Omar admits. “But I’m bigger than you. Keep that in mind. And don’t forget: I’m watching you.”
Morning groans. “Don’t you have someone else to talk to? Someone you like?”
Omar shoots Morning a betrayed look, like she’s just revealed one of his darkest secrets. His eyes dart toward Parvin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Ahead of us, the front group has reached the boats. Longwei and Holly work the ropes, pulling them closer to shore. I follow Morning forward, but a question from Azima catches everyone’s attention. “Speaker! Are the rivers dangerous?”
He exchanges a glance with Beckway and Bally. “No more than the land.”
Azima turns back to us. “So it’s safe to say we could have a small competition?”
That has the rest of the group grinning.
“Genesis 11 against Genesis 12?” Azima suggests. “Last time we won.”
Alex wags an obnoxious finger. “And what happened the fifty times before that? We spent a whole month crushing you.”
“Haven’t you heard?” Katsu snipes. “You’re only as good as your last game.”
That has the Genesis 12 crew calling out insults. Morning’s eyes dart from her crew to me and I realize she doesn’t like the idea of splitting up out here in the unknown.
“Look,” she says out loud. “We’re trying to get there safely. It’s not a competition.”
I’m surprised when Longwei leans into the conversation.
“Will that be your excuse when we win?”
It’s impossible to not laugh at the idea of Longwei talking smack. Katsu shakes him by the shoulders, like he just hit Morning with the deepest dig ever. Morning’s concerns about separating from me burn to nothing as the heat of competition rises.
She takes a long look at her old team.
“To your stations,” she orders. “First one to Myriad wins.”
Chapter 18
Old Rivalries
Emmett Atwater
Genesis 12 lets out a series of whoops and shouts. Following Morning is so bone-deep that even Holly boards their ship and takes her usual station. Omar lifts both of his gigantic fists into the air like they’ve already sealed the victory. I shake my head with surprise when the entire Genesis 11 group rallies in a circle around me.
Longwei nods to the back of the ship. “I’ll take the engine again.”
Katsu wraps an arm around Jaime. “Drivers.”
“I’m up front,” Jazzy says. “Eye on the prize, y’all.”
Azima’s already hoisting herself up onto the deck. “I want to hit something!”
I raise an eyebrow. “So that leaves me …”
“As the captain,” Longwei confirms, nodding his respect. “That’s what you are.”
I almost laugh. “I thought I was a bad captain?”
Katsu slaps my shoulder. “You are, but don’t worry, I was worse. Let’s do this.”
I smile and file this one under S for Surprises. Sometimes, my grandma used to say, you’ve gotta file the good things too. It takes a few minutes for us all to board, another few minutes to get used to the feel of the nyxian stations.
The captain’s chair is linked to every station by nyxia. It runs out like a flattened web to touch the backs of each individual console. It’s a powerful feeling. It’s been long enough now to forget what it felt like after I handed the reins off to Katsu. The slightest attention connects me to any of the operations on the ship. I can feel Longwei firing up the engine. I sense Jazzy swiping through settings to analyze the landscape ahead. All at my fingertips.
Speaker joins our ship and takes his post at the defensive station opposite Azima.
“Bally will follow in a separate vessel and ensure our protection.”
Across the way, Morning’s giving orders. I can almost feel the thunder in her voice. She throws a look my way and smiles. “Thinking about boarding our ship again?”
“If I wanted to board,” I say, smiling back in challenge, “I’d board.”
The engines of both boats start to roar. Morning winks before turning back to crouch next to Parvin’s display system. I turn my attention back to the ship, back to my crew.
“It’s like day one on the Waterway,” I say. “Empty scoreboard. Grudge match.”
Longwei actually sighs. “I miss the scoreboard.”
That has the others laughing. Over the noise, Jazzy’s voice buzzes into the comm. She keeps it carefully at the volume of a whisper. “Emmett. I’ve got a route.”
I cross the ship to stand at her shoulder. “Already?”
“Well …” Jazzy looks up guiltily. “I kind of cheated.”
I laugh. “Cheated how?”
She
shows me her screen. “I can see the route they’re planning.”
As we watch, highlighted directions start to extend through the convoluted riverway. I glance over to their ship. Morning and Parvin are bent over the screen, deep in discussion. Parvin traces a finger, and their plan continues to draw itself onto our map. I can’t help laughing.
“But can’t they see our screen?”
Jazzy shakes her head. “It’s all in the screen-sharing interface. The two ships are linked, probably by design so we don’t get too lost out here. But I’ve hidden our screen. So we have eyes on them and …” Jazzy shrugs. “They can’t see us.”
I laugh again. “Perfect. Hey, Speak. Can you come take a look?”
He crosses over and examines the layout. “Impressive. They traced the paths ahead and eliminated the routes that eventually choke out, or wind unnecessarily.” He leans over the forming map and double taps a split in the river. “I’d follow them until this point. They’re cutting back, losing time, because they think these waterfalls aren’t safe. I know a way across.”
Jazzy marks the location and logs the rest of their route into our system. She grins back when it’s done. “Great find, Jazzy,” I say with a nod. “And thanks, Speak.”
A look shows Morning’s back in her captain’s chair. She nods over to me.
“Two minutes?”
“Sounds good.”
Our crew’s looking comfortable at their stations, but the sight of Morning reminds me who we’re up against. This is the same Genesis 12 team that destroyed us for an entire month.
We need an edge.
“Listen up.” I let my voice whisper through the nyxian connections. “I want to try something. Jazzy, I want you to start. Push your energy toward Speaker. Speak, I want you to push yours to Katsu. Katsu to Longwei. And so on. All around the ship. Understand?”
“Is this really the time to try something new?” Jaime asks.
But Speaker’s voice follows. He’s either curious or concerned or both.
“How do you know how to do that?”
I shrug. “Picked up a few tricks. Let’s try it out.”
Speaker raises a curious eyebrow as the power around us shifts. Jazzy directs her energy to him. He glances back at me before shoving the energy around. The others follow suit, and before long I can feel the rhythm of the nyxia turning in circles around me. It revolves three times before picking up its own momentum. Longwei’s the first to understand.
“Power,” he says. “That’s a lot of power.”
“Keep it orbiting,” I whisper. “If we can sustain the rhythm, all we have to do is pull from the energy it’s making to do our manipulations. Everyone fathom?”
There are nods all around. Speaker shoots me another curious look, but says nothing.
Morning cups her hands. “Ten seconds!”
The engines throw out revolutions. Longwei’s eyes are wide as he prepares to use the power at his fingertips. Both crews grip the railings, leaning forward in anticipation.
“Five seconds!”
Time slows to nothing. My vision of the river narrows. It’s our ship and their ship and a single streak of waiting blue. Morning shouts, and both engines roar as we fire through the water like missiles. The entire crew lurches back in their seats, but Longwei steadies the power after a few seconds. The front of our ship pushes out past Genesis 12. Morning eyes us with suspicion as the lead increases, a full length around the first curve of the river. I glance back long enough to see her eyes go wide as she realizes what I’m doing. I can hear her shouting new orders.
“Let’s hear some readouts, Jazzy,” I call back.
She sounds off a few warnings. Jaime and Katsu work to make adjustments as we cruise around another bend. A dense island waits in the distance. The river ropes around each side of it, each split no wider than thirty meters or so. “Taking the western split.”
Katsu and Jaime swing us that way. I have half an eye on the unfolding universe of the river. The water is dark enough to hide its dangers. The banks are overgrown too. Everything in the Imago’s world feels like it’s at war with something else.
But the rest of the time I’m glancing back at Genesis 12. Morning’s marching around, giving orders. They’re moving faster, but I’m guessing she’s still getting them used to the shared nyxian manipulation.
“Rocks on our right!” Jazzy calls.
Jaime’s voice shakes through the comm. “We can’t cut that hard at this speed.”
The boat tilts the right way, but I can tell we’re coming on too fast. I’m about to order Longwei to dial back the power when Azima manipulates her defense station. She forms the gigantic hand she always liked to use in the Waterway. We watch as she lowers it, cupping the water with a massive palm.
Our boat’s nose pivots just enough. Everyone holds their breath as the side scrapes harmlessly past the rocks and Azima raises her station out of the water.
“Great work, Azima,” I say. “Let’s keep it moving.”
The next few kilometers pass quickly. Morning pushes her crew within five hundred meters, but we’re firing on all cylinders too.
“We’re approaching the marked split,” Jazzy announces.
“Let’s put on a show,” I say. “Make it look like we screwed up.”
Jazzy nods. We glide over the water, heading directly toward the staggering stones that mark the waiting divide. Genesis 12 keeps the pace. At the last possible second, I make the call.
“Move us east.”
Our boat dives that way. Genesis 12 glides the opposite. I look back and throw them my most surprised look. I try to make my voice loud enough so they’ll hear every word.
“No! Back that way! Come on, Jazzy!”
The engines roar, and we catch a final glimpse of their crew before a veil of riverside trees swallows everything. “You still have a ways to go in your acting career,” Jaime snarks.
Katsu laughs. “And the award for Worst Dramatic Role as a Ship Captain goes to …”
I laugh. “I will throw both of you overboard. Speak is probably honor-bound to save your sorry asses because of the treaty, but that won’t stop me from doing it.”
They exchange a look and laugh again. I shake my head before eyeing the riverway. The sudden absence of Genesis 12 brings out the wonders of Grimgarden. It was easy to think that this was our river. That’s what living on Earth has taught us. We can treat anything like it belongs to us. It’s clear, though, that we’re nothing more than guests here.
The normal inhabitants have taken note of our passing.
We see a pair of fish streak through the water on our right before breaching. Their scaled bodies spiral out, unexpected wings flung wide. Water splashes in an arc as they flap through the air and cut overhead, eager to duck back into the cover of trees.
Jazzy keeps scanning around every corner, relaying potential dangers or asking for more speed when the scans come back clear. The orbiting power of the nyxia continues to hum in startling harmony. I think about the first time Morning taught me how to do it, how our steps synched up effortlessly. The same thing is happening now.
I can sense each moment before it comes. It’s like precognition. A feeling that says Longwei’s about to gun the engine or Jaime’s about to shift our rudders. Speaker’s reaction is telling too. We have a knowledge he didn’t expect us to have.
Halfway to Myriad Station, a golden glow highlights the water in front of our ship. Jazzy points out the glittering lights, and Speaker explains, “Looklocks.”
Their bright pattern extends out like an arrow. Jazzy watches them long enough to notice the pattern. “They’re taking all the right turns. How do they know which way we’re going?”
“Intuition,” Speaker answers. “The looklocks will choose correctly for a while. Twenty turns. Fifty turns. Long enough to lure you into trusting them.”
“And then what happens?” Azima asks, fascinated.
“The very moment you stop attending your instrumen
ts and start trusting their lead, they will take a turn that goes nowhere. They will distract you into a bank or a sandbar. After the crash, they’ll feed on the dead.”
“Everything out here is so lethal,” Jaime complains. “Next you’ll be telling us to avoid stepping on fallen leaves or something.”
“That is a sound practice,” Speaker replies, missing Jaime’s sarcasm. “The graya create traps beneath the larger piles. It is always better to avoid them.”
Jaime looks around at us and just shakes his head.
The golden school of looklocks highlights our way for a while, but their own hunt is interrupted by another. Azima points to a nest hanging from a tree on the eastern banks. It looks just like a massive beehive, but the entryways are bigger than my head.
I’d rather not meet an insect that needs a home that big.
“A vayan nest,” Speaker announces. “They’re one of the—”
But movement cuts off his sentence. Three creatures—vayans, apparently—come spiraling through the dark doorways of the hanging nest. The creatures’ muscled bodies are the color of steel, and they’re no bigger than basketballs. All three of them land in the water, frantic limbs fighting gravity, and then they’re up.
My eyes struggle to follow their mad dash over the surface of the water. The school of looklocks either sees or hears their approach, because the golden glow vanishes instantly.
But that doesn’t stop the hunters. Silver tongues stab down through the water like spears. Each vayan circles as our ship passes, busy jaws crunching down on their catches before making a path back to their nest.
For the next few kilometers, we forget we’re in the middle of a race. We don’t slow the pace, but all of us watch the river in the hope of witnessing more miracles. Finally we’re getting the hang of being the first human explorers on an alien planet. Speaker explains which distant bellows go with what creatures. He does his best to differentiate animals based on their splashes or by the residue they leave along the riverbank.
Longwei spots a trio of birds wheeling in the western sky. They’re the first creatures moving slowly enough for my scouter to actually identify. The word dirk dances into view.
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