Nyxia Unleashed_The Nyxia Triad

by Scott Reintgen

  “Emmett, this is the creature you saw your first night in Grimgarden. A century.”

  The yawning jaw stretches from floor to ceiling, ten meters. Maybe bigger.

  “Why are they called that?” Jazzy asks.

  Speaker answers, “If they survive for one hundred years, they transform.”

  “Into what?” Azima asks curiously.

  “Something bigger,” Speaker replies. “Something much bigger.”

  Teeth scythe down like swords. Speaker leads us through the maw of the beast like it’s not the most terrifying decoration we’ve ever seen. There’s ten meters of pure dark. On both sides, something swallows the light before we burst back into a room filled with sunshine.

  There’s no roof overhead. The covering of static flickers in the distant sky. A bridge leads us over a man-made river and onto a wide marble platform. Every five meters, the marble rises by a step. It also narrows, a single meter at a time. We climb thirty or forty steps before getting our first sighting of the Daughters.

  Ten thrones ring a final marble platform. The Daughters watch us ascend. I walk on the far right, putting Ashling straight ahead of me. The queen who greeted us on the open plains has her veil of thick hair pinned aside. She wears a deep ocean-blue dress that matches her eyes.

  Feoria sits on her left. Her gaze is still burning holes in everything.

  But the real surprise is Jacquelyn. She doesn’t stand off to the side like an adviser would. Instead she sits in one of the thrones. A queen in her own right. It was easy to think of her as more human than Imago, but her position in one of the thrones sends a strong statement.

  Feoria begins. “Ashling and I have invited you here in confidence. The plan we share with you today is no small matter. Please respect the nature of these secrets, and understand we spent years working through this with our very best advisers.”

  Ashling nods at that. “We’re sympathetic with your position. We assume your cooperation depends on our plan’s viability. We’re confident we can find common ground.”

  Parvin steps forward. “We just want to know whose hand we’re shaking.”

  With a nod from the Daughters, Jacquelyn stands. She lifts one of our confiscated knapsacks, putting it on display. After she’s sure we’ve all had a good look, she flips the pack and unsheathes a knife. We all watch as she works away the bottom padding. There’s a few seconds of fabric giving way before her blade strikes metal. Jacquelyn widens the hole and lets a small silver device fall to the floor.

  “Have any of you seen these before?”

  The entire group offers her blank stares.

  “We knew you were Babel’s way into the city,” she explains. “We assumed they would use your entrance to undermine our current defenses. Each one of your packs came with one of these built into the lining. Babel calls them vanguard devices. It’s multifunctioning tech. They’re designed to go into a territory before actual troops do. They scan for population and movement. Babel’s always wanted a look behind our veil. Now they have it. Full readouts of our population for each of your ring visits.

  “Each of these devices will also ping strategic locations back to Babel. Their coordinates act as homing beacons. Babel will launch their attack on our city, and these are designed to disable our defenses from within.” Jacquelyn directs our attention to the static in the sky overhead. “Their plan is to remove the exterior shield and use that open window to drop missiles on each of Sevenset’s rings. Missiles that are coordinating with these devices.”

  Another piece fits into the puzzle. The intercepted information Parvin decoded: uplink complete. Rahili’s quick work must have synched her base up with the devices hidden in our bags. David Requin’s reasons for sending us to Ophelia Station make more sense now.

  “If you know all this,” Parvin asks, “why did you let us enter the city at all?”

  “Our fishing boats will bloody the water sometimes,” Jacquelyn says. “Blood is a sign of weakness. Something is vulnerable. Fishermen use it to lure in bigger catches. Our entire plan depends on the destruction of Sevenset. If Babel thinks we’re wounded and weak and on the run, what do you predict they’ll do?”

  Parvin is nodding now. “Come down in force.”

  “Sevenset destroyed. Our society on the run. How could Babel resist?”

  It’s not hard to trace that to the next logical conclusion.

  “Empty ships,” I say.

  “Empty ships,” Jacquelyn confirms. “Babel will sweep down for the kill. And we will let them. They’ve always wanted to be our conquerors, so we’ll let them conquer a land they don’t know is already doomed. While that happens? We take to the skies.”

  “They’re already down here,” I reply. “We saw marines in cryogenic chambers under the bases.”

  “Of course,” Jacquelyn says with a smile.

  Parvin cuts back in. “And you’re just going to let your people die on the rings?”

  “Of course not,” Feoria replies fiercely. “We have a plan for all of this.”

  Jacquelyn removes a nyxian device from her pocket. She sets it down on the tiered step in front of us. An image is cast into the air. Blue light resolves into a map.

  We all recognize Magnia. Sevenset sits northeast of center, its rings linking three separate continents. A word from Jacquelyn brings up eight marks scattered across the different regions. I can see faint lines tracing their way from Sevenset to the marked points.

  “Each of these represents a launch station,” she says. “I cannot express the immense difficulty of developing these centers without alerting Babel. Every measure of stealth technology we possess was necessary. Thousands of our people labored in secret. Many died to achieve this. Each launch bay holds thirty shuttles. Each shuttle holds two passengers. It was the best we could do in the time span Erone gave us. Two hundred and forty ships, ready to launch into space.”

  As we watch the layers of their plan unfold, it’s impossible to ignore how genius this is. The Imago have thought of everything. Azima’s curious voice overrides Parvin’s.

  “So why not just fly to Earth?” she asks.

  Jacquelyn shakes her head. “We have many technological advantages over Babel. Space travel isn’t one of them. The Imago aren’t a people who have ever reached for the stars. There haven’t been any space races. No fears of overpopulation, either.”

  Azima pushes back. “But you have nyxia, right? How hard can it be?”

  “The mechanics and the science are beyond us,” Jacquelyn answers. “But we are using nyxia to our advantage. The craft we built work simply. They’ll launch through the atmosphere. Once they’re in orbit, they’re designed to seek out other nyxian objects.”

  “Babel’s ships,” I think aloud. “Genius.”

  Jacquelyn blushes. “It was Erone’s idea. Once they find the ships, they’ll operate on a standard seek-and-attach program. Our individual ships are designed to function as air locks. Attaching and sealing onto the hull of their ships. Babel comes down. We go up.”

  Katsu actually bursts into laughter.

  “I’m sorry,” he says. “I was just imagining the look on Defoe’s face.”

  I hear Jaime whisper, “It’s literally perfect.”

  Parvin glances back at Morning, who nods her approval.

  “I think we can work with this,” she says.

  Jacquelyn strides forward. “So you agree to an alliance?”

  Parvin nods. “Like I said, we just wanted to know whose hand we were shaking.”

  She holds out both fists. Jacquelyn smiles at the familiar gesture. They dap up in agreement, twist their wrists, and bump fists again. Smiles sweep through the entire group. It’s not hard to see why Isadora came to us. She made the smart decision. I’m guessing the Imago shared their plan with her already. If she knew all this, there were two options: join us or fight her way back to Babel. This was the right choice.

  Feoria holds up a hand for silence. “We have one more thing to show you.”r />
  Both Daughters stand and march past us. Jacquelyn gestures for us to follow. They lead us halfway down the queenly staircase before turning to the right.

  There’s a hidden ledge there, slipping through the stone walls, leading outside. We file after them until we’re in the bright of day, looking down on an open-air courtyard.

  It’s full of Imago. The ranks aren’t as tight and precise as they were on the Seventh, but there’s still something majestic about them. The gathered crowd has dressed in their finest. It takes a few seconds to realize what connects them: they’re all so young.

  My eyes trace down the rows. A handful of them look like teenagers. At the top end, there might be some in their thirties. Beckway and Bally stand in the front row, their faces full of pride. “The Remnant,” Jacquelyn says. “Fifty of our youngest, brightest citizens.”

  Some whistle up. Others wave. It finally hits home. This is their only plan for avoiding extinction. Launch into space. Defeat their sworn enemy. Cross the universe. Land on Earth.

  We do what we have to do to survive.

  “What about the other rings?” Morning asks.

  “Seven other stations,” Jacquelyn answers. “One assigned to each ring. The name of every citizen has been entered in a lottery. Sixty names from every ring will be chosen. We’ve already started evacuating. We expect Babel’s attack to come tomorrow.”

  “Do you see now?” Feoria asks, sweeping out one hand. “The difference between our way and the slings? We’ve forged our best path forward. This is our future. They can’t go without your help. You are the Genesis. We place our fate in your hands.”

  I look back at the rest of the crew, more sure than ever.

  “We’re going home,” I say firmly. “And we’re taking them with us.”

  Chapter 41

  I Forget the Rest

  Emmett Atwater

  The world is reduced to tutorial and preparation. It’s amazing that the Imago think they’ve predicted Babel’s attack down to the hour. Jacquelyn tries to run us through the tech side of things, but only Parvin and a few others can actually keep up.

  Morning hammers out the details of our agreement. The Daughters argue back and forth with her, making sure there’s an understanding of how this alliance will extend from the second we leave the Sanctum to when—if all goes well—we land back on Earth. It’s smart. Pops would call it CYA: cover your ass. I stand by as they negotiate. Morning is forceful about keeping our crews together from start to finish.

  “We’ll man our own boat,” she says. “Babel trained us for it. We work best as a crew.”

  Jacquelyn shakes her head. “And risk losing all of you?”

  “That’s my point,” Morning argues back. “We survive together. Shoulder to shoulder.”

  Jacquelyn starts to protest, but Feoria cuts her off.

  “Let them. We owe them the right to choose.”

  Jacquelyn heaves a sigh. “Only if I come with you. I don’t have time to run you through the schematics, the breakaway formations we’re using on the surface, the rendezvous points. Either I’m on board with you or it doesn’t happen at all.”

  Morning accepts that. “That’s fine.”

  Feoria laughs. “Going back to the humans, Jackie?”

  Jacquelyn almost snorts. “It was your plan, not mine.”

  We’re all escorted back through the sanctuaries. Jacquelyn runs us through the unloading process. Our ship will be seventh in the lineup. She walks us through the basics of the tunnel, emphasizing the necessity for stealth. After that she describes our exit point, our route from the northern shoreline, and the coordinates of the launch bay reserved for the Sanctum. Only when we’ve recited the whole plan forward and backward does she release us.

  “Now go eat. Go rest. Be dressed to leave at a moment’s notice.”

  I should feel lighter, more at ease. The threat of Isadora has gone quiet. The current plan is far better than we could have ever hoped. Even the distant possibility of Anton already working behind the curtains in space should have us believing this can actually happen.

  But I’ve always had a hard time with hope. The word has a habit of slipping through my outstretched fingers. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to sit back and breathe until we land on Earth.

  We take seats around a circular table. Speaker explains that our meal is fuel for the days to come. Everything we’ve had up to this point was made with taste in mind.

  “These might not taste as good,” he says. “But they were handpicked. There is food here that will steady your hands, focus your minds, increase your awareness. A soldier’s diet.”

  Jazzy asks, “Are y’all expecting a fight?”

  “In the end,” Speaker replies, “what we expect does not matter. What happens will.”

  “I wouldn’t mind a fight,” Jaime says. “Get a few shots in on Babel before we go.”

  Speaker frowns at that. “I would rather a quiet walk to a ready launch station. There are fights in our future. That much I can promise. It is so likely, in fact, that I would rather not wish more into existence.”

  Jaime shrugs before focusing on his plate. The rest of us are quiet. That calm-before-the-storm kind of feeling. Next to me, Morning actually looks a little nervous.

  “It’s a good plan,” I whisper to her.

  She nods. “It’s just the waiting. I hate waiting.”

  “You know, I was thinking, they mentioned the pods have room for two.” I throw her a playacted look of nervousness, biting my fingernails with exaggeration. “I was—I mean, if you’re not busy or whatever—I was wondering if maybe you’d launch into space with me.”

  She smirks. “We gonna go to the movies after?”

  “Of course. No popcorn, though. Too pricey around here.”

  “My parents always snuck stuff in,” she says.

  “Moms does that too.”

  She looks at me for a long second. “You think I’ll get to meet them?”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I say, smiling wide. “Slow down, girl.”

  I laugh again when she smacks my shoulder.

  “This is just like the cold-hands thing,” she says, shaking her head. “Yeah. That’s right. I didn’t forget. First time you ever talked to me. Told me I had cold hands. Who does that?”

  I’m still smiling when Omar leans over.

  “I’m starting to think you two need a chaperone again.”

  Morning throws him an eyebrow. “These are your last days on an alien planet, Omar. Isn’t there someone else you would prefer spending them with than us?”

  I almost laugh when his eyes dart directly over to Parvin. He starts to blush.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Neither does she,” Morning replies. “But she should. Before we risk our lives and launch ourselves back into space. She should know how you feel.”

  Omar somehow turns a deeper shade of red as Morning stands.

  “Come on,” she says to me. “I want to go look at the ocean.”

  It’s easy to follow her outside, kick our feet up in the air, and pretend the world belongs to us. Even in the bright of day, we can make out the faintest traces of both moons in the sky.

  The truth has changed how I see them. Bright and beckoning has become dark and deadly. We’ve talked this whole time about forging alliances. One force being joined to a second. I have this deep, unspoken fear that our alliance might be more like the two moons colliding in the sky. Bright, brief, and the end of everything.

  So we steal what we can from what little time remains.

  Wind at our backs, sun on our faces, we lie there together; I forget the rest.

  Chapter 42

  Babel Revealed

  Emmett Atwater

  We work our way back through the halls of the sanctuary, looking for the rest of the crew. Morning leads us toward the kitchens and we run smack into Isadora.

  I see Isadora’s jaw tighten before she takes a meaningful step bac
k, holding the door open for us to pass through. But Morning answers by reaching out for the other half of the door and wedging it open with her own strength. “We’re good. Thanks.”

  Isadora just shakes her head. “You’re wasting your time with this.”

  “I don’t trust you,” Morning returns. “It’s that simple.”

  “We’re exactly the same,” Isadora says. “Whether you want to admit it or not.”

  Morning flinches at that accusation. “I’m nothing like you.”

  “Please,” Isadora says with sarcasm. “In every situation, you’ll work to keep this team safe. You’re going to fight like hell to get the group home, right? But if you had to choose between Emmett or us, which one would you choose?”

  Whatever ready comeback was sitting on Morning’s lips goes silent. She glances back at me, then at Isadora. “Well?” Isadora asks. “You’d choose him, wouldn’t you?”

  Morning nods. “Every time.”

  The truth has my heart skipping beats. Isadora just smiles.

  “If Roathy’s actually alive, I’m going to choose him over you every single time. Otherwise? I’ll do what I can to make this plan work. I’m no different than you—”

  A single bell tolls through the Sanctum, cutting off Isadora’s sentence. It rings its way through stone, shakes the halls, and gutters out. It takes two seconds to leave the rivalry in the hallway. Jacquelyn’s trained us to know the rendezvous point. Morning is careful to let Isadora walk ahead of us, but we make our way through the halls together all the same.

  The rest of the Genesis crew is waiting, but instead of leading us down to the escape route, Speaker has us moving up the building’s southern tower. Jacquelyn waits on the building’s roof. It’s not the tallest tower, but it offers a 360-degree view of the surrounding ocean. We stand in nervous formation. Jacquelyn folds her arms, counting off the beats with a tapping foot.