Jazzy sits up straighter. “So wait,” she says, accent thick. “You want us to have babies?”
“That’s not why we came.” Morning raises her voice. “That’s not Babel’s to offer and it’s not yours to take. We never agreed to anything like that.”
“You can’t possibly expect—” Parvin starts.
“This is wrong,” Katsu calls out. “This is so wrong.”
“Completely messed up,” Noor agrees.
Jacquelyn holds up a hand for silence. It takes a few seconds for the entire group to hit the pause button. Our anger is a pulsing, living thing.
“We would never ask that of you,” Jacquelyn clarifies. “We needed to see your reaction. It’s been unclear to us how you stand with Babel. We’ve waited until now to tell you this, because we needed to be certain you would join us in the war to come. Babel signed you away without consent. They promised each of you to us forever. That was their intention.”
Her words don’t make any sense. The Imago arranged a treaty. They invited us to their planet with a purpose in mind. But Jacquelyn is talking as if that was all…
“A ruse,” she says. “We told Babel what they wanted to hear. We carved them a road into our capital. We’ve been waiting for them to walk down it ever since.”
Parvin struggles to find her voice. “But what do you really want? Why are we here?”
Jacquelyn and Feoria exchange a smile.
The Daughter answers simply.
“You are the Genesis. You’re here to create a new beginning for us.”
I expected the puzzle to get clearer. I wanted to understand which pieces fit where, but Jacquelyn’s revelation just took the box and shook it. None of this makes any sense.
“Why go to all that trouble?” Morning asks. “Why bring us?”
“You were the reasonable lie,” Jacquelyn explains. “We have successfully kept Sevenset off Babel’s radar for a long time. They don’t know our population breakdowns. It was easy to hide our women and come to Babel with a problem we knew they would be all too eager to solve. We needed children.
“More importantly, we knew how they would handle the issue. We expected lies and deception. Babel delivered both. We assumed the group they sent would desire an alliance. We also assumed Babel would bring more of their ships across space if we gave them a new window of opportunity. We were correct on both counts.”
I find myself nodding along with the explanation. All this time I’ve feared how far ahead of us Babel could plan, how extensive their reach seemed. But the Imago clearly won’t be outdueled on that front. They have a far better read on Babel than Babel does on them.
“So your population, your women…” Morning looks lost.
“Both have been at normal rates for decades,” Jacquelyn says. “There’s no shortage, no need for you to provide more children. Thesis and the other emissaries have done a brilliant job selling the story. We assume Babel’s been watching the entire time. It was our way of luring them closer.”
That explains Jerricho’s presence outside the gates. And the woman I saw in the crowds of the Sixth. There’s no shortage of women; they’ve just kept them out of sight. It also explains having Thesis as their emissary. Hire an actor to make sure the show leads the audience in the right direction. He was chosen as much for Babel’s eyes as for ours.
The clues lead to one conclusion.
“There must be something else threatening you,” I say.
Feoria offers me a look of approval. “Show them, Jacquelyn.”
With another click, images load on the screen behind her. Statistical data, star charts. We’re all eyeing the bright screen when Jacquelyn presses her thumb to an icon in the corner. A video widens until it fills the whole screen. It’s like something out of an astronomy class.
“You’ve seen our moons,” she says. “Glacius and Magness.”
The screen shows them revolving in their separate orbits. It follows their paths, dancing in and out, as the entire planet rotates on an axis. Parvin’s the first one to see where this is going. Her response isn’t elegant, but it hammers the point home just fine.
“Shit.”
I translate that for her. “A collision.”
We watch the orbits strangle one another. The two moons dance too close, and there’s an inevitable crash. The simulation shows the probable debris. Massive chunks escape out into space, but even larger pieces find their way into the atmosphere. The simulation stops there, but words like cataclysm and apocalypse and extinction come to mind.
Jacquelyn says what we can’t. “Our world is coming to an end.”
It’s like someone keeps pressing a defibrillator to our chests and lighting us up with electricity, not realizing the shocks to our system are already too much to handle.
Morning asks the million-dollar question. “How long have you known?”
“It was discovered six years ago. Every historical record in our archives mentions a world with two moons. The references can even be found in the oldest poems. Our scientists believe they have orbited for millennia. According to my—to Erone, a two-moon system can survive for a very long time, but the moons statistically have to collide at some point. We just happen to be the generation who will see the inevitable come to pass.”
Erone. That name again. It’s so distracting that I almost miss the anger in Morning’s expression. “Six years. So you invited us here even though you knew this was going to happen.”
Jacquelyn and Feoria look away for the first time. This must have been the one potential flaw in their plan. An understanding that they’ve done the same thing that Babel did. The Imago saw an opportunity and took it. They willingly invited us into danger so that they could attach themselves to us. We are the genesis, whether we want to be or not.
I file it right where it belongs: U for Unforgivable.
“And you call people like Jerricho slings?” I ask. “How are you any different?”
Feoria shakes her head. “A sling works for himself. We work for all of our people. Do you think everyone in this room will survive what’s coming? I made these decisions for my people knowing I would die beneath the only two moons I have ever known.”
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.”
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.”
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 humming 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 f
ind 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.
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