Nyxia Unleashed_The Nyxia Triad

by Scott Reintgen

  I ignore all of that, almost shouting. “If you never lie to Babel, they never recruit us. If they never recruit us, we never go into space. Do you know how much this has already cost us? Bilal, Kaya, Brett, Loche. They’re all dead. And that’s not just on Babel’s head anymore. It’s on yours too. How many more names will we add to that list before all this is over?”

  An unbelievable sadness crosses Feoria’s features.

  “Should I have let my people die?”

  I shake my head, because I can’t answer that. The hardest thing is that I damn well get it: she did what any of us would have done. But it’s getting harder and harder to feel like we’re anything more than pieces on a game board. Just playthings at the mercy of enormous forces.

  “You’re here now,” Jacquelyn answers quietly. “We can’t change that. The choice is simple: you’re with us or you’re with Babel. We plan to move on to the Sanctum now. There are necessary preparations to make sure we take advantage of Babel’s attack. We’ll return your personal effects and let you discuss the decision among yourselves, but remember we have more to show you. About who we are, about who Babel is. I’m sorry that it had to happen this way, but understand: you are our only hope.”

  Chapter 36

  A House Divided

  Emmett Atwater

  As the boats prepare for departure, Morning drags the entire Genesis crew into an empty sunroom. She casts her nyxia to the walls and we all hear the sharp crackle, the silence that follows. Creaking doors and distant footsteps vanish. It’s just us now. Just family.

  “Thoughts?” Morning asks.

  “This is bullshit,” Katsu says. “That’s the main thought.”

  “I just want to go home.” Holly repeats her tired refrain. “I hate it here.”

  “Babel makes the most sense,” Parvin adds unexpectedly. “We go back to Babel.”

  Everyone stares at her. Jaime’s been quiet so far, but his anger breaks through now.

  “I thought you were supposed to be the smart one,” he says. “Go back to Babel? They lied to us about everything. I mean, were you even in that room with us? You realize their plan was for you to come here and be a host for alien babies.”

  Parvin fires back, “We’re sitting on a planet that is scheduled for destruction. Remind me again, how many spaceships do the Imago have?”

  Jaime looks helpless. “None.”

  “Exactly,” she snaps. “And when we show up and tell Babel, ‘Oh by the way, the entire planet’s about to explode,’ don’t you think they’ll accept us back into their good graces?”

  “Sure they will,” Jaime says, shaking his head. “And then halfway home they’ll politely float us into space so no one ever knows what their real plans were out here.”

  This time it’s Parvin who doesn’t have an answer. Morning uses the pause to jump in. “Let’s take a step back,” she says. “I told my team when we landed and I’m going to tell you all again so you don’t forget it: we have each other. We can’t count on Babel. We can’t count on the Imago. We have each other. Shoulder to shoulder. Fathom?”

  No one repeats the phrase, but there are nods all around.

  That logic leaves me frustrated. “All that means is we’re stuck in this room. I’m not trying to kibosh the team-spirit thing, but we’re gonna have to choose one side or the other. We need to figure out what the best-case scenario is for each one.”

  Morning nods to Parvin. “How do you imagine it going with Babel?”

  She adjusts her glasses. “We escape Sevenset. We get back to Babel. We use our information as a bargaining chip to return to the Tower Space Station. Once we’re up there, we would just have to position ourselves so that Babel can’t get rid of us.”

  Morning gestures to Jaime. “And the Imago?”

  He looks uncertain. “They have to have a plan. They knew the moons were going to collide. So there has to be a reason why they’re luring Babel in. We just have to find out why.”

  “Scenarios don’t matter,” I say, the realization thundering. “We’re thinking about it all wrong. The answer is obvious. There’s only one choice. Who actually needs us?”

  The entire group considers that. Longwei’s the first to answer.

  “The Imago.”

  “The Imago,” I agree. “Can we carve a way home with Babel? Maybe, but at the end of the day they’ve already shown us that we’re expendable. If they return to Earth, they’ll weave some story about our tragic deaths and not think twice about it. But the Imago can’t do that.”

  Morning is nodding now. “If they show up in Babel’s ships …”

  “People will call it an alien invasion. A hostile takeover. No way that goes well. If they have a real plan to fight Babel, they’re the side I want to be on. They actually need us to make things work on Earth. Always pick the side that can’t get rid of you.”

  It’s quiet for a few seconds before Katsu starts laughing hysterically.

  “I’m sorry,” he says between each burst. “I just … Babel’s trying so damn hard to get down on this planet … and it’s literally about to explode. The irony is just …”

  Parvin raises her voice, annoyed. “So we go to the Sanctum?”

  Morning looks around like there’s no other choice.

  “We go to the Sanctum.”

  Chapter 37

  The Sanctum

  Emmett Atwater

  The escort boats are waiting. Feoria traveled ahead of us with her guards, but Jacquelyn Requin waits on the docks. Wind tosses her cloak as we all pile aboard the escort vessels. I end up on board with her and a handful of others. Speaker steps in as captain.

  We should be overwhelmed, but all the little details keep spinning back to the surface. I slide past the rest of the crew and nod an introduction to Jacquelyn.

  “You said the name Erone, didn’t you?”

  Her attention sharpens on me. “I did.”

  “I’ve heard his name a few times. The Erone Provision.”

  Jacquelyn nods. “The rule was named for him. He was kidnapped.”

  “I know.”

  She frowns now. “You know what?”

  I’ve shoved the memory of that bright room down into the darkest corners of my mind. Sometimes, though, details thunder back without warning. I can still see Erone’s arm rising in the air like a drawbridge. The scars running over his skin.

  “He was on our ship.”

  Jacquelyn’s cool exterior vanishes. It’s replaced with a desperation I’ve only seen at funerals. It’s clear that Erone was more than a colleague to her. “He’s alive?”

  “I’m not sure. He was—they were torturing him.” I can see how that information guts her. “I’m sorry. There was an accident. I’m not sure what Babel did with him after it happened. He was alive, though. A few months ago.”

  It takes a second for her to steady herself. Speaker is sounding commands as the crew prepares for our descent. Jacquelyn nods once. “Thank you for telling me.”

  Nyxia starts to stretch overhead, sealing the boat. I slip back to Morning’s side. Waves rock the boat as we start to nose-dive. Seats unfold from the railings, and Speaker calls for all of us to strap in. “We’re taking the Quick. It’s going to be a little jolt to your systems.”

  “The Quick?” Morning asks.

  “Just strap in,” Speaker replies. “You’ll see.”

  We take our seats as the light fades overhead. Through the front windows, I can just make out the looming mouth of a massive tunnel. We’ve been through the waterways before, but everything was tight and winding. This one’s three times the size of our ship. Ahead of us, the other escort ship reaches the entryway. We watch the dark water spiral and bubble. A whirlpool rotates the ship twice before it launches into the black.

  “It’s like a roller coaster,” Jazzy says excitedly.

  “Don’t look left,” Speaker suggests. “Or right, for that matter.”

  The crew eases us over the threshold and we can hear turbines hum
ming around us. There’s a suction noise, a distant groan, and then our boat starts to drift. All of us tighten up as the revolutions start. Before we’re fully upright, the air in the ship compresses and we shoot into the darkness. Speed eats at the edges of our vision. In seconds, my stomach is in my throat.

  Someone lets out a whoop, but I keep my mouth clamped shut. It’s not worth losing my cookies to act tough. The race through the tunnel lasts fifteen hellish minutes. Finally the speed drops. I hear the engines stall, and our pace goes down notch by notch. Everything is still blacked out except for the radar and equipment. I swallow back the rising bile, but not everyone’s so lucky. There are a lot of queasy faces in the group.

  “Two minutes to the first checkpoint,” Speaker announces. “Everyone all right?”

  “Oh, just peachy,” Jazzy complains.

  The tunnel forks in three different directions. Speaker guides the vessel up, cutting engines and letting us drift. There’s a rumble overhead as our nyxian stations attach us to a slotted ceiling. A glance through the portholes shows weaponry on every wall. Each gun glows blue, and they’re all trained on our boat. I eye them curiously.

  “What are those, Speak?”

  “Security,” he replies. “This is the only underwater entry into the Sanctum.”

  The ceiling grinds open. Water bubbles rush up and Speaker lets us drift into the next space. The wall snaps closed and we’re in a new chamber, with new guns along the walls. They wheel in our direction. This time, I spy a flash of white scanning the side of the ship.

  “What are they scanning for?” I ask.

  “Unwelcome guests,” Speaker says.

  “And if they find one?”

  He glances back. “Then it was a pleasure meeting all of you.”

  Fortunately, we’re not harboring fugitives. We pass through the final checkpoint, and sunlight beats at the windows. Speaker lowers our nyxian covering and we’re all forced to shield our eyes from the brightness. The platform rises into an open room, water dripping and draining from our ship’s exterior. We blink out at pristine gardens, an arching glass dome.

  “Welcome to the Sanctum,” Speaker says.

  A glass-paneled dome arches overhead, casting squares of light down on everything. Rows of flowers extend in every direction. Trees tower overhead, draped by ivy or dangling fruits. The garden’s architect shows off on the path to our right. Great ivy buckets have been turned over by ivy hands. Bright flowers spill from the buckets and across the paths like water. Speaker leads us forward, allowing us to take in the majesty of it all.

  We pass by a tree with millions of delicate white petals. The lowest branches are speckled with little red dots. Of course Azima runs a finger across one of them. We all smile when she jumps back. “It bit me,” she says, licking the blood on her fingertip.

  Speaker smiles. “You’re not the first. Look.”

  We watch another red dot sink and solidify into the petal. One blink and I lose it among the endless speckles. Wonder leads us to wonder, and Speaker regretfully forces us out of the gardens and deeper into the Sanctum. Posted guards stare out from the hidden nooks and corners. They move constantly, cycling past us, eyes curious but hands ready on weapons.

  “The Sanctum was founded three hundred years ago,” Speaker explains. “The ancient queens were more likely to associate with the Seventh back then. Many were renowned warriors. Their decision to center themselves in Sevenset created new orbits. Our entire world shifted.”

  “Have your rulers always been women?” Jazzy asks.

  Speaker nods. “Almost without exception.”

  “I like this,” Azima says with satisfaction. “Women are better rulers than men.”

  Speaker smiles. “You will hear no argument from me.”

  “But anyone can become a tyrant.” I didn’t mean to say it out loud. Speaker and the others glance back. “Sorry. Just … that’s how it goes, right? Power corrupts? You know, more money, more problems.”

  “More money, more problems.” Speaker looks dumbfounded. “A strange concept.”

  Omar laughs. “Emmett, you can’t just quote 50 Cent as a universal truth, man.”

  I grin back at him. “Correction: Diddy said it first. I’m just trying to keep the legends alive. Sorry, Speak. Must be an Earth thing.”

  He shakes off the confusion and leads us forward. The Sanctum consists of what the Imago call sanctuaries. After the first was built, each successive generation of rulers wrapped a newly styled sanctuary around it, echoing the already built rings of Sevenset.

  Speaker informs us that we’ve already passed through the outer sanctuary. The gardens were constructed by the youngest generation, the current rulers of Sevenset. We all gasp as we cross the threshold into the next sanctuary.

  Walls stretch thirty meters high, all lined with books. The dark wood shelves curl around every corner, tower to every ceiling. Even the floor beneath our feet shows faded spines through glass.

  “Nearly every book ever published in our history,” Speaker reveals. “The Daughters of that generation valued reading and education. Some won their favor by hunting down the rarest volumes. The Imago who recovered the first translation of the Parables of the Maker ended up marrying one of the queens.”

  We wind through the endless library and pass into the third sanctuary. Speaker gathers us on a stone platform that overlooks a floorless hall. “The Daughters responsible for the third sanctuary were fond of clockwork and mechanisms. It’s the most famous. Even after all these years, all of their inventions and workings have not been discovered. They built something they claimed was as complicated and unique as any living creation. Most historians agree.”

  He tugs the nearest lever, and our platform grinds to life. Gears spin and chains rattle as we’re lifted into the air. We go up about ten meters before our platform tracks with something in the walls and glides smoothly across the gaping black below. Speaker gestures to Jazzy.

  “Go ahead and tap one of the stones.”

  She grins at him and reaches out, then knocks twice on a granite square.

  We all wait and watch, but movement stirs along the wall directly opposite. The stone splits on an invisible seam, opening like a cuckoo clock. A miniature rope unfolds over the side. As our platform passes, we have to turn to watch a pair of wooden soldiers lower a bucket. At first we can’t see what’s inside, but then little heads peek out from blankets, identical to the half-hounds we’ve seen around Sevenset.

  “The Parable of Bane and Bless,” Speaker remarks. “I’ve only seen it once before.”

  Our platform continues its grinding way, and we watch as the rope retracts back into the walls and the stone clamps shut. Jazzy can’t stop talking about it as the platform kisses the edges of a second landing. There’s a lot of nervous laughter as the floor shakes, then quiets. Speaker leads us away, turning yet another corner. “And the oldest sanctuary,” he announces. “The first queens created calm with word and deed. You’ll see their desires for simplicity and comfort here.”

  It’s a vast room of fountains and cushions and distant light. The roof is open to the elements, coloring the room with gold. We cross to the nearest fountain, and Speaker has us press our hands to the stones. They’re impossibly soft, almost like feathers.

  “Not an easy manipulation,” Speaker says. “To the water, the substance is unyielding. To flesh, it is giving and comfortable. Every stone here boasts unique properties. You just have to make sure you don’t roll into the fountain while you sleep.”

  On cue, Azima leans too far forward and goes splashing into the water. A hilarious chaos follows as Speaker and Longwei try to help her out, but she grins and splashes away from them.

  “Come in,” she calls. “The water is warm!”

  The revolution starts that easily.

  Speaker’s eyes widen as everyone strips off shoes and socks and clothes. Jaime’s the first one to figure out that all the fountains are separated by little underpasses. Speaker giv
es up his efforts to get us out and agrees to oversee a game of freeze tag instead. Maybe he realizes this is what a sanctuary is supposed to be. For thirty eternal minutes, we’re children again.

  It’s a nice surprise to discover that Alex is the best swimmer instead of Morning. We set up our teams, splashing wildly, calling fish out of water, and cheating, because pool games aren’t fun if you don’t cheat a little. Alex weaves his way through a drainpipe to make the final tag on a flailing Parvin. He smiles for what feels like the first time since Anton launched into space. The whole thing feels like a regained paradise.

  The game ends and we climb out of fountains, dripping and splashing, almost untouched by the burdens that brought us here. While the others pull clothes back on, laughing and complaining, I walk over to where Speaker is standing.

  “Why’d you show us all this? Why show us the rings? Any of it?”

  “We wanted you to see what we stand to lose,” he says quietly. “Our entire world, Emmett. Thousands of our kind will not make the voyage through space. I am one of them.”

  He notes the shock on my face.

  “I volunteered to stay with my queen. It was an easy choice,” he says. “But remember that none of what we built will travel across the universe either. If our plan works, we’ll leave behind our histories, our legacies, our everything.”

  He smiles sadly before slipping away. My eyes trail him. He’s not putting on a show like he did in the early days of our time together. I can only imagine what it was like when they discovered what was about to happen. How long have they spent counting down the hours until the day their entire world would be destroyed?

  I look around at the paradise they’ve carved into this place. Each stone so precise. The fountains formed with such delicate care. How long before all of it vanishes in fire and smoke?

  Chapter 38