The Shoreless Sea

by J. Scott Coatsworth

  “You’re not okay.” Gordy’s words were accusing, or they should have been. But instead they were full of compassion, even their own pain. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Sorry for what?”

  “I should have checked in on you. I should have… I should have stayed.”

  She shook her head. “Not your fault. I was broken. I’m holding it together now.” Mostly.

  He took her mug away, set it down on the mallowood table, and wrapped his arms around her tightly.

  She closed her eyes. It felt good to be held by someone who cared for her. It had been a long time, and Gordy was a good guy. Why are you here? He hadn’t come all this way just to ask her how she felt.

  She pushed him away gently. “You still haven’t told me why you came.”

  He sat back, his hand on his chin, as if considering the best way to say something. “Kiryn asked me to come.”

  “Ah.” So this was all just another plan of her brother’s to “make her better.”

  She got up to finish closing up and shoo him out the door, but he reached for her and touched her arm, pulled her back gently. “Please. Let me finish.”

  Belynn sat back down reluctantly. Five minutes. Then she was going home. Alone.

  “We’re going into the inthworld.”

  That got her attention. “What? How… where is it?”

  “The world mind found it. She wants us to save it and to neutralize the threat.” He took her hand. “Belynn, we need you, and I think you need this too.”

  Belynn’s carefully ordered defenses came crashing down. Lilith. Oh, spin-fucking Lilith.

  She’d spent the last five years running from what had happened to her, the taint that creature had left in her head. She’d even tried a support group for Davian’s possession victims, but it wasn’t the same. They had been unaware of their captivity, virtually zombies.

  She had been very aware of hers, a captive in her own mind while Lilith gleefully raped her consciousness. Even the intifada’s other victims hadn’t suffered through the same level of invasion and corruption that she had.

  Her hands were shaking again. “I’m… scared. I don’t know if I can face her again.”

  “I know.”

  “No, you don’t! Every day, every waking hour, I think about it. About her. What if she finds me again? What if she… takes me again?” She grabbed the mug and took a deep draught, the liquid burning down her throat, and then slammed it down. “That’s why I drink. The voices, they were annoying… torture even, sometimes. But I could learn to live with them. But Lilith….” She whispered the name, as if saying it out loud might conjure the beast. “I can’t let her find me. Not again.”

  “Then let’s find her first.”

  She stared at him like he was crazy. I’ve been running for so long. “I don’t think I can.”

  “You have to do something—”

  “Don’t tell me what I have to do.” She laid her hands flat on the table, willing them to be still. “Come on.” She set the two mugs on the bar. She would put them away tomorrow. Or someone would.

  She pulled him outside and locked the door.

  GORDY FOLLOWED Belynn down the near-deserted streets of Thyre. The streets were still wet from the afternoon storm that had blown through from the North Pole. Streetlamps provided pools of golden shadow on the cobblestones, throwing them into sharp relief with the darkness that surrounded them. Two- and three-story buildings loomed over them in the darkness, and in some of the doorways drunks slept off the effects of their evening binge. Some of them were probably Belynn’s customers.

  Above, the silver spindle was wreathed in clouds, giving the night a gloomy, spooky feel that sent a chill down Gordy’s spine.

  She led him down Main Street to Lamplighter’s Lane, and they stopped at a small nondescript building set off the street. It was built of black stone and mortar, the symbol of the cross inlaid in lighter rock in the wall. A church, then.

  Belynn pushed open the heavy wooden door and pulled him inside.

  “I didn’t know you were religious.”

  “I’m… it’s complicated.” She led him past the pews to the altar at the front of the church. Three candles burned there—rare these days, probably made at one of the local farms from tallow.

  She knelt and placed her hands on the altar, closing her eyes.

  He sat in the second pew to wait for her and give her space.

  The walls were painted to look like stained glass windows, complete with gilded frames. The room was quiet, and a calm descended on him.

  After a couple minutes, Belynn got up and came to sit next to him. She seemed calmer too.

  He gave her a sideways glance. “You okay?”

  She laughed, an unexpected and welcome sound, though it carried a bitter edge. “I’m better.” She glanced at the candles. “My great-grandparents were religious.” She held up the silver cross that hung around her neck. “I don’t go to services or anything. But one day I was walking by here on the way home, and I was feeling vulnerable. The door was open, and I saw the candles inside.”

  “Okay.”

  She leaned forward, resting her arms on the front pew, and stared at the flickering of the flames. “It felt like a sign. I found out later they leave the doors open as a sanctuary for anyone who needs it. But at the time, it seemed like it was just for me.”

  So much pain. “Go on.”

  “I come here when I want to talk to them. To Aaron and Jackson.”

  “Do they talk back?” He couldn’t help but grin.

  “No, they don’t. At least not with voices. But I feel closer to them here.”

  Gordy nodded. He wondered what it was like to have a family. He’d been an orphan all his life, and even that had been fake. “What do they tell you?”

  “To be strong.” She sighed. “I’m afraid I haven’t been very strong these last few years.”

  “Are you kidding me?” He pushed a stray lock of dark hair back behind her ear. “Belynn, you were violated in one of the worst possible ways, and you’re still here. Still standing. Still breathing. You’re so much stronger than you know.”

  She looked away. “I don’t feel like it.”

  “I see it. I could never have endured what you did.” He shuddered at the thought.

  “Thanks for saying that.” She stood and leaned back against the other pew.

  “You want to be strong? Come with me. Help me save their world. Help us put an end to the threat.”

  She closed her eyes, and he could see the fear in her.

  “Aren’t you sick of running?”

  She took a deep breath “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

  He took her hand. “One more thing. You have to stop drinking. You’re going to need your abilities to get where we are going.”

  Her hand shook in his. She got up, pulling away from him, and for a moment he thought he’d lost her. Pushed too hard.

  But instead of leaving, she knelt again at the altar, her lips moving silently.

  She stayed there for a long time, but Gordy didn’t try to rush her. This had to be her decision.

  If she said no, they would go anyhow, but the world mind had calculated their chances at less than 50 percent without her.

  He stared at her back. She was so beautiful. Even now. Even after everything.

  He steeled himself. She didn’t need his emotions crowding into her already confused and painful life.

  At last she stood. “I’ll do it. But you have to promise me something.” Her eyes burned with fire.

  It frightened him, but he nodded. “Anything.”

  “When we find her, I get to kill her.”

  Chapter Two: Strange Winds

  AINE STARED at her creation, or at least a virtual rendering of it.

  Just north of Thyre, the highlands ended abruptly, the land dropping a hundred meters to the lowlands below.

  There were several ways down to the lower elevation, including a long rampway that one day would carr
y traffic between Thyre and the villages or cities farther north.

  There were also more hidden ways.

  The original designers of the world had emphasized the need for physical barriers, to allow humankind its space. Something called island fever had been common on the smaller patches of land on Old Earth, where it was often impossible to go more than a few dozen kilometers in any direction.

  Similar issues had been observed on space stations. The loop walks around their perimeters had been designed to help the inhabitants with that by giving them the feeling of being in a larger space, and the use of phased overlays provided the illusion of moving through different environments.

  Creating barriers—making it harder to get from one place to another, made the world seem bigger to them.

  Humans were funny creatures.

  After she had finally found the inthworld—or the structure that held it, at any rate—under the highlands, it had taken time to prepare the way for Kiryn’s little raiding party.

  She could have destroyed it in an instant. But how could she not consider the life it held?

  If she, a copy of two human beings in an artificial biomind, considered herself real, how could she not think the same of the residents of the inthworld?

  They had reached out to touch the world Aine protected, and that could not be allowed to happen again. But she couldn’t just leave them to die either.

  Perhaps there was another way, if her inthnauts could find a way to pull it off.

  DESTINY STOOD atop the rock outcropping, ser legs together and arms stretched wide, ser head thrown back to let the wind blow past ser, like a tree with the air slipping between its leaves and branches.

  Se had taken off ser gloves, wanting to feel the world against ser skin, in ser mind, and through ser soul.

  Se opened ser eyes and stared up at the spindle, bathing ser in its serene silver light. Out here, se was free. Out here, no one judged ser or expected anything from ser.

  The wind moved through the grasslands below, the great exhalations of the mother mind making the grass flow to and fro like the waves of an ocean, rushing past ser to destinations unknown.

  Aine had built this place… the mother mind. She had placed this rock outcrop here. She created the birds and trees and grasses that sang softly under the gentle caress of her wind.

  Maybe she even created me. Destiny really wanted to believe that. To believe se was something more than the mundane mashing of human genes, the result of an act of a sweaty congress between two fleshy beings.

  Se wanted to believe what Tag had said. That se was special.

  Destiny felt Kiryn long before he found ser, coming across the grassy highland plain from the house. It was a part of ser power, an ability to sense living beings around ser. But it wasn’t the whole of it.

  Se sank down onto the unyielding rock, folding ser hands over ser knees, and waited.

  Off in the distance, the faint rumble told ser the mother mind was still working to build the world. The light of the spindle sparkled on the water of the new sea, still only half-formed and a quarter full.

  A moment later, Kiryn scrambled up onto the top of the outcropping and sat down next to ser.

  He didn’t say a word, only stared out at the world with ser.

  They sat like that for a while, as the breeze blew ser hair behind ser, bringing the wet smell of the water with it.

  Destiny glanced at him surreptitiously, wondering what he was thinking. He fascinated ser, facing the world from a whole different place than most of humanity. Like me.

  At last, ser curiosity got the better of ser. Se tapped him on the shoulder.

  He turned to look at ser, his face serious but kind too.

  “Why me?”

  He smiled, looking sad. “Because you can help us.”

  Destiny laughed at the directness of his response. His voice was different, but se understood him well enough.

  Se wondered what it was like to be him—to not be able to hear anything. Se reached out to touch his cheek. “May I?”

  He nodded and closed his eyes.

  Destiny hesitated. This was the other part of ser ability, and se had lost several friends—not to mention ser family—over it. Se could imprint his self on ser own. It wasn’t a complete copy, but enough to really know him.

  Se could take more, if se wanted.

  Kiryn opened his eyes. “It’s okay.” He took ser hand gently and put it on his cheek.

  It was electric.

  Who and what he was flowed into ser like a lightning bolt. Destiny’s body shook as se absorbed the wave, his life opened to ser as clearly as a book.

  Growing up on an agricultural estate not so different from the Halfway House.

  And yet, seeing the world through an entirely different lens than sers.

  Having a solid sense of his masculine identity and his love for the same.

  And a sister. A sister named Belynn, who had abilities too.

  The wave passed, leaving ser warm and vibrating, like a tuning fork that had just been rung. He had a good soul.

  Sometimes the experience left ser cold, like a chill wind had blown through ser soul. But with him, se felt warm. Safe.

  Destiny opened ser eyes.

  His eyes met sers, and they stared at each other for a moment. Then ser hand dropped back down to ser side. “I’ll come.”

  He nodded. He signed something to ser, and though se’d never signed before, se understood it. “I’m glad.”

  His memories were with ser now, at least the major ones that made him who he was. Se had absorbed them by touch, and over the next few days they would sink in and become a part of ser, as surely as Santi’s and Eddy’s had when they had let ser touch them.

  As surely as ser father’s had, the first time se had fought back when he tried to hit ser.

  The first time ser power had asserted itself.

  Se hadn’t found a way to banish those memories.

  Ser father had hit ser hard across the face because se had left the gate open and one of their sheep had escaped. The splinters had impaled themselves in the soft skin of ser legs as he’d dragged ser across the floor and thrown ser hard against the wall. Blood had trickled from the side of ser mouth, the copper taste sharp on ser tongue.

  He had been an angry man. Hard as stone and a temper like a penned-up bull.

  Se still remembered the darkness in his mind when se had tried to defend herself against his fists, and the look of abject horror on his face as se had drained him, not just sampling his mind but emptying it of everything that was him, pulling it all inside serself so he could never hurt ser or anyone else again.

  How he had crumpled to the ground afterward, drooling on the rough wooden floor.

  It lived inside ser, like a demon se couldn’t banish.

  In the end, what se had done to him had been as much of a violation as the beating he’d given ser.

  Se had locked it inside, trying to replace it with better memories. Better souls. A better family. Most days, it worked. He stayed locked away in his prison in ser mind.

  Like today. Today was a good day.

  Se signed back, “When do we leave?” That ability was one of the things Destiny had chosen to take.

  Kiryn’s mouth dropped open, and then he laughed. “You’re amazing.” He grinned. “Tomorrow. Can we go back to the house now? It’s been a long day, and I’m tired.”

  There was a lag as se worked out what he was saying. “Okay.”

  Se would get better at it, as those memories became more sers.

  Ser ability was a beautiful and terrible thing.

  Destiny pulled on ser gloves, and they climbed down the rocks in the silver light to the fields below.

  BELYNN RODE through the small town of Thyre with some trepidation over the coming reunion. The streets around the town center were flagged with paving stones, lined with gutters that drained waste down into dissolution pits hidden beneath the city.

  Wooden frame
structures that wouldn’t have been out of place in a Western tri-dee back on Old Earth lined the streets, mostly with shops and stores on the ground floor and residences above.

  The Wall loomed over the city, a folly that now stretched a quarter of the way around the world. For some reason, her grandfather had approved it years and years before, but now it took up a good portion of the town’s resources to maintain and keep expanding it.

  She shook her head. Men were such strange creatures.

  Belynn’s mount belonged to a friend, but Stella didn’t mind if she took Whinn out for a ride now and then. When she’d asked to borrow the horse for a week, Stella had been suspicious but ultimately had said yes after Belynn had promised to babysit Tressa and Fillip for a weekend when she returned.

  Usually, riding helped clear her head, providing her with a way to get away from people, from the bustle of Thyre and its noises and smells and its spin-damned energy.

  This time, though….

  She hadn’t seen Kiryn in three years, and the last time hadn’t been pleasant.

  “I KNOW you’re hurting. You don’t think I can feel your pain, every single day?” Kiryn grimaced, almost shuddering with agitation. “You have to do something. Try something to make yourself better. Get some help.”

  She pulled away again, wresting her arm from his grip, trying not to let him see her cry. She was wounded, not weak.

  Why can’t you understand that? “I… I just can’t. Not yet.” She went back to work, grabbing her tray of beer and wine mugs, intent on serving her customers.

  Kiryn stepped in front of her, blocking her path. “When are you going to stop running?”

  “Is this guy giving you trouble?” Rex, one of her regulars, stood beside her, glaring at Kiryn. He was only a meter and a half tall, but his barrel chest and thick arms more than made up for his lack of height.

  “It’s okay, Rex.”

  “What the hell is he doing with his hands?”

  Kiryn signed emphatically. “You need to get out of here, to come with me. We have to get you out of this cycle—”