Omar heaves a sigh. “There were other slings in the base, but only Longwei’s hurt.”
I remember the way he stepped in and shoved Jaime out of the way. It might be the most unselfish thing he’s done since I first met him. I can’t imagine he’ll go exploring with us anytime soon. “He took a pretty nasty shot on the bridge.”
Omar helps us both off the boat. “One eye caught most of the damage. He’s in the med bay now. Should be fine. And the plans might be changing. Speaker says there’s an Imago guard making their way to us now. More security after the attack exposed Babel.”
I nod at that. “You never said if you found Corporal West?”
“We found him,” Morning says. “About three kilometers from the base. Dead.”
“We booked it back to Myriad,” Omar says. “But the attack was already happening, and you had already been taken. Come on, Speaker wants to address the whole crew. Make sure we know what happens next.”
The main room is full. Beckway and Bally stand by the entrance like bodyguards. The rest of the Genesis crew sits in grim silence until they see us. They let loose a roar and come surging forward, crowding around to welcome us back.
“Always getting in trouble,” Katsu says with an arm wrapped around my shoulders.
Jaime crowds in. “I’m sorry, man. I’m still not seeing straight from that shot to the head. I told Morning what happened as soon as she got here. I’m glad you survived.”
We bump knuckles. “Got lucky,” I say. “No sweat, man.”
As the noise settles down, Speaker steps forward and clears his throat.
“Emmett, I am glad to see you alive and well. I must apologize, on behalf of our entire society, for what happened here last night. It’s a mark against our hospitality that any of you were in danger.” He pauses meaningfully. “However, there is a clause in the Interstellar Contract regarding this. Babel gave us the right, in the event that they failed to protect you, to accelerate the timeline of moving you to Sevenset. We need to speak with one of your leaders.”
Morning nods over to Parvin. “Let’s get Requin on a call.”
It’s a surprise to see Parvin sporting the familiar, Babel-made glove that we all watched Kit use to control the station. Genesis 12 must have found it when they located West’s body. Jazzy stands at Parvin’s shoulder, talking through the floating interface. It takes them a few moments to figure it out, but a wall eventually retracts near the entrance to reveal the same kind of screen Kit used in our first conversation with Requin. Parvin sends off a message before looking back our way.
“I have no idea how long it will take,” she says. “For all we know, Kit put these requests in days in advance. I don’t even know when they’ll receive it.”
“We can wait,” Speaker replies. “Our guard is coming regardless, but we’ll remain inside the base until we can discuss the necessity to move on to Sevenset as soon as possible.”
The room takes a breath. Katsu mutters something about needing a mojito, and we all stare when Holly marches straight for the base’s makeshift kitchen. Katsu’s mouth hangs open.
“Wait…,” he says. “I didn’t mean you…I don’t think we even have ingredients!”
He pushes to his feet and heads after her. My eyes flick back to Speaker and the other Imago. I hope they really have a solution for what’s happening to her. A second of eyeing Speaker is a reminder of what was so unexpected about Jerricho. I nod his way.
“My kidnapper was a woman.” My voice carries around the room. “We kind of thought there weren’t many women left. Based on what you’ve said, they live in the Sanctum, right?”
Speaker glances briefly toward the entrance. Bally and Beckway have taken an unconscious step forward, the news cracking across them like a whip. There’s a second where they all silently make sure they’re on the same page. Speaker takes a deep breath before looking back my way.
“Who was she? Did she give you a name?”
“Jerricho.”
Speaker lowers his eyes. I realize I’ve seen this kind of gesture before. Jaime did it, aboard Genesis 11. I must have dismissed it before because Speaker’s a different species—we were told the cues and the body language would be different—but he’s giving himself time to think. It’s the thing most people do as they dig down for the right lie to tell. When he looks up, that renewed confidence sits comfortably in his eyes. He spins gold for us.
“A staggering loss,” he says. “One of a handful of women remaining in our society. It’s senseless, really. Jerricho could have had whatever she wanted. I’ve never understood what might motivate someone to become a sling, but for a woman it is even stranger. I did not know her personally. I do remember that she was a warrior of some renown.”
He looks over to the other Imago. Beckway steps forward with a nod.
“She’s from the Seventh Ring,” he says. “Southside Battalion, a ranked duelist.”
Speaker weighs that. “Lucky, then, that the two of you are alive. It must have taken all of your considerable skill to bring her down together.”
Morning and I exchange a glance. She doesn’t mention the fact that she defeated one of their ranked duelists all on her own. I decide to keep my mouth shut about that too.
Speaker says, “It is a sad day for our people. Her death will be mourned across the rings.”
I watch him carefully. He’s lying again. I don’t call him out on it, because I don’t understand. Why would he need to lie about this? It takes a few seconds to remember where we’re standing. Myriad is one of Babel’s only strongholds on Magnia. Is that why? Is he trying to mislead them? A staticky voice cuts through my thoughts.
The screen behind Parvin blinks into existence. Requin’s staring out at us.
“Genesis crew,” Requin says in greeting. “We just watched the footage of Corporal West’s capture. Have the Adamites offered any explanation?”
Speaker steps forward. I’m watching him more closely now, looking between the lines. Since our introduction, he’s been the perfect diplomat. He frames every response with a smile. The sight of Requin tests his abilities as an actor. I note the narrowed eyes and the pulsing vein at his neck, visible for just a moment before he steps into character.
“An outlying faction,” Speaker says. “They exist outside of Sevenset’s governance.”
“They’re still Adamites,” Requin replies. “Will you activate the Erone Provision?”
That name thunders through me. Erone. I’m the only Genesis member in the room who knows his name. Marcus Defoe let that detail slip in the discussions after Kaya’s death. Erone is the captured Imago. What’s the provision? What does that mean? Speaker glances back to the entrance. Beckway and Bally nod their encouragement.
“This interpretation stretches the intended purpose of that provision,” he says. “But as a sign of good faith, we’ll accept the provision and activate our new request: Sevenset.”
Requin mulls that over. I watch as he fakes discomfort. Like Speaker, he’s setting up a well-manicured lie. “That’s far too soon. It’s one-third of the expected timetable.”
“And right now you’ve offered only one-third of the expected protection. Holly’s mistake occurred because of inadequate training. Corporal West died, and you are fortunate none of the Genesis suffered the same. Our one core agreement still stands, the one statement present in every clause of the treaty: the children must survive.”
My mind races. We mean more to them than we know.
“Very well,” Requin replies. “But under two conditions.”
“Give them and we will decide,” Speaker replies.
I’d forgotten that Speaker has another side. We’ve never asked him about the name he gave during his introduction: The Daughter’s Sword. Occasionally, the quiet and soft-spoken version vanishes beneath something far fiercer. Right now he looks
just like he did when the sling appeared outside Foundry in search of blood. It’s nice to see Requin meet his match.
“They travel in our trucks,” Requin says. “There are some inherent defenses that would make us more comfortable. Feel free to accent that protection with whatever patrols you think necessary, but it allows us to extend safeguards and ensure their arrival in Sevenset.”
I glance over at Morning. She’s sifting through the request just like the rest of us. I see her raise one eyebrow and I know she sees what I see: using the trucks keeps Babel in the loop. Whether they have cameras on board or just some standard tracking coordinates, it allows them to stay more in the know than any Imago-provided travel would.
“We accept your request,” Speaker says. “What’s the second condition?”
“Ophelia Station,” Requin says. “I want my teams to personally confirm that Corporal Ava Rahili hasn’t been compromised. If she’s not there, we have the right to pull half of our team from the planet.”
He’s bluffing again. They don’t want to pull us from the planet. Besides, they clearly have eyes on all their bases. If what he said about West is true, they’re on a delay, but they still have footage. Babel would know within twenty-four hours if someone was dead or alive in their base. There has to be some other reason for sending us there.
“Extending their time outside of Sevenset endangers them,” Speaker says simply.
Requin smiles. “We’re not the ones trying to kidnap them. The slings have attacked twice. During our last discussion, you assured us that they were a limited threat. How can we trust that they won’t attack again once you’re inside the city?”
“The odds of a successful attack decrease in Sevenset. As you are well aware, the contract between us demands a minimal Adamite presence while your crews work the mines. This was against our advisement. We wanted contingents of five or six soldiers with each of your teams. You denied that request. Their security details in the city will be much larger.
“We will also have control over which routes we take through the city. We will know where they are going and how to defend each location from attack. That measure of control has been lacking in Grimgarden. Sevenset will be a safe option, you have my word.”
The room’s quiet as Requin considers the information. After a moment, he shakes his head. “I need confirmation that Ava Rahili is alive and well at Ophelia Station. The crews do not need to stay there for longer than a few minutes. Visit the location, confirm her presence, move on to Sevenset. I suppose we can make these days up after their visit.”
Speaker nods. “Agreed. So long as the trucks do not cross the barriers established in the Proximity Clause, we accept the two requests in exchange for an earlier departure date.”
“We accept too,” Parvin chimes in. “Not that either party asked our opinion.”
Speaker looks a little embarrassed about that. Requin just smiles.
“You’ll be the first explorers to ever enter the capital city of an alien race on a distant planet. I didn’t expect you of all people to complain, Parvin.”
She adjusts her glasses. “Point taken.”
“On to Sevenset,” Requin says. “I’ll await word of Corporal Rahili. Godspeed.”
The feed is killed. Speaker looks relieved as the group starts moving around the base. Most of the crew looks exhausted. I bump Morning with an elbow. “I want to go see Longwei.”
“You should,” she says. “I’m going to talk with Speaker. Do some digging.”
I lower my voice to a whisper. “He was lying. About Jerricho. I don’t know why. Maybe he thinks Babel’s listening. If they are, maybe it’s better we don’t dig right now. And Requin’s lying too. He wants us in the city just as much as Speak does.”
Morning nods. “I knew Requin was lying. Didn’t catch Speaker. I’ll proceed with caution.”
I shoulder my knapsack and we head in opposite directions.
I hate to admit how thankful I am for silence. Other members of the Genesis crew are moving through the halls, but it feels like we’re all in different orbits, gliding through our own temporary universes. A shiver runs down my spine as I think about the last time I visited the med unit. This time the door’s already open. Bright light filters out into the hallway. Longwei is lying there with his eyes closed.
Omar was right. It’s a nasty wound. The blow slashed the spot just above his eyebrow and all the way down to his cheekbone. Instead of sewing him up, someone packed the wound with a liquid form of nyxia. The substance gleams back like the surface of a black mirror. Longwei would have the most badass-looking scar.
I glance right and catch my own reflection for the first time in days. There’s dried blood under one nostril. I thought I had stubble, but it’s almost worked its way into a beard. There’s more of Pops in my face than ever. I’ve got his wide eyes and full lips.
The only difference is that time with Babel has carved a restless look into me. Pops always looks comfortable in the world around him. He has a way of blending into every backdrop. I look more dangerous. Put me back on the streets of Detroit and people would notice.
“Emmett?”
The voice is all rust. Longwei looks up with one eye. The other stays shut, even though I can see the muscles twitching around the wound.
“He’s alive!” I say, walking over. “I went and got kidnapped. You found the wrong end of a weapon. We really gotta work on staying out of trouble, man.”
There’s the faintest hint of a smile. “How bad is it?”
“The wound? I think you’re disqualified from future space travel. Stuck here, man.”
This time he really does smile. “Do you think I’ll see out of this eye again?”
I can only shake my head. “I wasn’t the one who treated it. Maybe Speak did? They patched you up with nyxia. I’ll have to ask. I’m sure you’re going to be fine.”
Longwei leans back and sighs.
“And hey,” I continue, “it’s kind of like they made you an honorary Imago. It almost looks like one of those nyxian implants they all have. Maybe you’ll have superpowers.”
He nods once. “I forgot to tell you that I can read minds now.”
A snort slips out. Longwei telling jokes is very new territory.
“Yeah? What am I thinking about?”
“That’s easy,” he says. “You’re thinking about Morning.”
I laugh at that. “You came into your powers awful quick.”
He smiles again, flicker and gone. It’s quiet for a while. This is new for us. Most of the words we exchanged aboard Genesis 11 were threats. That was what Babel wanted from us. Iron scraping against iron. They wanted us sharp and hard and cold.
This conversation feels right, though. Kaya offered comfort. Bilal offered kindness. Every time I offer the same, it’s a whisper of a promise that I won’t forget them, that they’re both with me now and forever. I pull a second gurney over and adjust the back into a sitting position. Longwei glances over with a frown.
“Are you sick?”
“Nah, not sick.”
His frown deepens. “Then what are you doing?”
“Hanging out with you, man.”
He swallows once and closes his eyes.
It takes a few seconds to pull my player out from the bottom of my knapsack. I scroll through songs before tapping his shoulder and offering one of the earbuds. He stares at it for a few seconds before fitting it into an ear. I play a soft song. It feels like hip-hopping down a river. Longwei actually starts to nod his head after the first chorus.
“I knew you’d like it,” I say.
“It’s better than the first song.”
I frown. “The first song?”
“You played it during our first meeting with Babel. It was so annoying.”
I laugh at the memory. “Sorry. I
turned it up just to grind at you.”
“No worries,” he says, exhaustion in his voice. “I still beat you.”
“You were only up by two hundred thousand points at the end. I was totally gaining on you.”
That earns another smile.
We sit there, listening, until he falls asleep.
For the second time, we stand in front of a Babel stronghold and wait for the Imago to arrive. This time, though, Speaker stands formally at our side. It’s a reminder that we’ve already been accepted and welcomed. In the distance, twelve black dots loom larger. Dirt and dust spin skyward. We watch them each unfold like the wings of strange insects. Imago pour out from the linked vehicles in smooth formation.
I recognize Thesis from the first meeting. He’s smiling his too-wide smile like we weren’t just attacked by some of his people. All the guards, though, are new faces. Every one of them comes armed. A short gasp leaves Speaker’s lips. We watch him bow unexpectedly.
Our entire group goes rigid, unsure if we should do the same. The formation of soldiers fans out, and we finally see the reason for Speaker’s reaction.
“Genesis,” Thesis announces. “I present one of the Daughters of Sevenset.”
Thesis takes a knee as the woman strides forward. She walks with all the grace and bearing of a queen. Her dress takes the sunlight and spins patterns out of it. Flowers, abstract shapes, curling leaves. The shapes change and slash with each step forward, dizzying to the eye. Like Jerricho, she’s taller and slighter than the male Imago. Her wide-set eyes are the same color I saw as I fell from space: the deep and dangerous blue of their world’s oceans.
A veil of brown hair frames a full face. Babel hadn’t seen a female Adamite in decades, according to their reports. I’ve seen two in less than twenty-four hours. Thesis gestures to her.
“This is Ashling. Known as the Beckoning Star, the Bright Reach.”
Ashling’s smile is brief and stunning. “Welcome to Magnia. On behalf of the Daughters, I invite you to Sevenset. Our home is open. Our people await. Will you come?”
Parvin steps forward as our spokesperson. “Of course. Thank you.”
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