The Complete Pendomus Chronicles Trilogy: Books 1-3 of the Pendomus Chronicles Dystopian Scifi Boxed Set Series

by Carissa Andrews

  “Talked about hunger? That’s boring,” he says. “You’d think there’d have to be more to it than that. Not much of a test. The wolf didn’t quiz you afterward, did he?” Ammon giggles.

  I laugh, too, realizing my lie does sound pretty ridiculous, but I can’t figure out a way to tell him the truth. I have trouble enough wrapping my own head around it.

  I glance down, noticing as I stroke Ammon’s hair that my fingertips have been stained an inky black.

  Ammon tilts his head up and tries to look at me, “Hey, why’d you stop?”

  “Ammon, what color is your hair supposed to be?” I ask.

  “What a stupid question. Are you the one with swollen eyes?” he says.

  “Hey—it’s not a stupid question. My hand’s turned black from running my fingers through your hair. Has it always been this color, or did you alter it?”

  He sits up, running his own hand through his hair.

  “It’s black?” he says.

  Pulling up a few strands, he makes them stand on end.

  “Yeah, it is,” I say. “It’s been that way since I found you. I take it, it’s not supposed to be.”

  “Er… I always wanted black hair, but no—” Ammon says, shaking his head.

  “Why did you always want black hair? And who did this, if it wasn’t you? Did Videus?”

  “Who?”

  “The man who kept you hostage. He—his name is Videus.”

  “What a weird name,” he snickers. “Anyway, I’ve always had light hair. Sometimes it would just be nice to have a change. I’ve seen so many people at the Lateral with dark hair—sometimes I wish I was more like them. I suppose blonde is no big deal, though. You have blonde hair, right?”

  He tilts his head, trying to get a better look.

  “Yeah, I suppose it is,” I say, glancing at my near white locks.

  “Weird about my hair, though. Wish I could see what it looks like black,” he mutters. “Bet I look awesome.”

  “You look great,” I laugh. “But I wish I could wash my hand.”

  Before our eyes, the tree behind us, the lush forest in front of us all melts away and my back is resting against a sink in an allayroom. Ammon scrambles to his feet.

  “Whoa, how wicked was that?” he says. “You wanted to wash your hands, and I wanted to see my hair. And POOF, we’re in an allayroom.”

  He stands in front of the mirror, trying to prop his eyes open with his fingertips.

  Laughing, I stand up and look into the mirror as well. He’s a full head shorter than I am, but he’s right, the black hair suits him. Though, I can’t help but wonder how the blonde hair looks on him, too. It would be weird to see him with lighter colored hair now.

  I reach forward, turning on the facet and washing my hands in the warmth.

  “So, is that how this system works?” Ammon asks.

  “How does what system work?”

  “You ask for something and it shows up,” Ammon says.

  “I’m beginning to think so,” I reply. “At least, sometimes.”

  “Ask for something really awesome—” he exclaims. “Like a mountain of books, or games, or—or—”

  “Well, why not,” I say, wiping my hands on the towel.

  “I wish my friends were here with me,” I say. It’s the only thing I really actually want in all of Pendomus.

  We both wait, expectantly, searching the room. Waiting for something to change.

  Nothing happens.

  “Hmmm…maybe you did it wrong,” he offers.

  “Or maybe I only get one wish?” I say.

  “Or maybe, you have to say thank you for this wish before you get another wish,” he giggles.

  “There are a lot of ‘what ifs’ happening here. Maybe the way we thought it worked isn’t how it really works,” I laugh.

  “Or maybe, eh—” he waves his hand dismissively, “maybe we should just look around and see where we are now.”

  I laugh, “Yeah, okay. Probably wise.”

  We walk out of the allayroom and into a large, open floor plan. It’s a main room with high ceilings and beams that look like they’re made from trees. Sunlight streams into the room and we both tentatively walk toward the windows, trying to put a location to where we are. Outside, beyond the immediate vicinity, is still a sea of sand dunes and rock outcroppings.

  “Well, doesn’t look like we’ve gone far,” I say, disappointment settling in. I had hoped that we would have been transported closer to Trae and the others, since my wish didn’t bring them here. “We’re still on the desert side of Pendomus.”

  “And we’re not near the awesome food anymore either,” Ammon points out with a frown. “Sucks, too. I was going to go back for fifths on the cake stuff.”

  “That does kinda stink,” I say. In all honesty, though, I can’t see myself eating anything any time soon. We gorged on so much, the thought of food right now isn’t even appealing.

  “Well, should we have a look at the—” I spin around, facing the interior of the house, “—the Caudex.”

  I take in the enormity of the large open room, the kitchen off to the left hand side, the hallway leading back the way we came. I left the Caudex on the food table before we were transported here. I should have had it on me, or nearer to me. I’m supposed to guard it with my life, and now—

  I don’t even know where it is.

  9

  Traeton

  ONE THING’S FOR CERTAIN, Videus and the Helix don’t know squat about the Tree of Burden and what its significance really is. Honestly, I don’t get it either, but I sure as hell know more than they have in these documents. If Videus has more details, the Helix mainframe isn’t showing them, that’s for damn sure.

  After scouring through all fourteen of the relevant searches, the only real piece of intel I glean off the data is they were certain the Tree was some kinda portal. It’s not as if we didn’t know that, but confirming it is the best damn news I’ve gotten in a long time. If the tree really was a portal, then Runa’s alive despite it being burned to the ground. The bad news is none of us have any damn clue where the portal leads, or hell—if she’ll be able to return.

  For a while, I was able to forget the gentle throbbing in my temple, but the intense pounding has returned. I try to ignore it, but it’s getting more persistent. I push off from the table and walk down the long length of shelves in search of Kani. My footsteps echo on the stone floor in a strange, haunting kinda way.

  “Kani, where’d you end up?” I call out into the vast array of ancient books and artifacts.

  “Over here,” she says, waving a hand from beside a shelf, but not fully coming into view.

  “Find anything?” I ask.

  “Depends on your definition of anything,” she calls back.

  “Anything useful?” I reiterate.

  “Nope. Not a damn thing,” she says, dusting off her trousers and leaving the book she was engaged with sprawled open on the ground at her feet. “You?”

  I shrug, “Possibly.”

  She waits expectantly for my answer, her eyebrows slowly quirking into a high arch.

  “Well, if the intel from the Helix is right, there’s a slight possibility Runa will come back. They think the Tree was a portal of some kind.”

  “A portal to where?”

  “It doesn’t say exactly,” I say, biting my lip, thinking. It has to be some place important, or safe for her. Otherwise, why else would Runa be called to it?

  “Well, it’s a start. Anything more on the vassalage? Do we have any clue where its location is?”

  “No. Haven’t gotten that far,” I say.

  “Well, let’s do some more digging on that, then,” she says, ushering me back down the corridor toward the mainframe system. “I could use a break from dusty old things anyway.”

  I nod in agreement and turn back toward the way I came.

  Fenton’s ghostly lookalike must have gone into sleep mode because when we return he’s gone. Gotta admit
, I’m relieved because the last thing Kani needs is to come face-to-face with a holographic version of him right now. It would surely send her into a tailspin and we both need to stay focused and motivated.

  Kani paces back and forth in front of the table, considering the details we’ve uncovered.

  “Does it say anything about the Tree itself? Like, does she need to use the Tree to make it back? Because if she does…” she says, her voice tapping into the same worry I have.

  “I don’t think Videus or the Helix have that much information,” I say.

  “Well, I suppose it wouldn’t be real convenient if he did,” Kani nods.

  “I’m hoping whoever created the portals were smart enough to create a fail-safe. Or at least, a back door in case of emergencies. If that’s the case, Runa should still be able to make it back. Hell, maybe she’s not even far and could just walk—”

  “I doubt she’d be that close. Otherwise, why is there a need for a portal in the first place? But a failsafe would make a certain amount of sense,” Kani says in agreement. “Then again, when did any of this make sense?”

  “True,” I say, rubbing at my temple.

  The pounding in the side of my head has worsened, and I fumble for the NeuroWand, despite Kani being nearby.

  “I wonder if there’s any details in here that could explain who woulda had the ability to create portals on the planet,” I muse out loud, waving the NeuroWand near my temple.

  “Trae,” Kani warns, “you really shouldn’t be using this so much. You could overdose and then where would we be?”

  “It’s been a while, Kani. I can’t even remember the last time,” I mutter, blinking away the dark blots creeping into my periphery.

  “You better not be lying,” she says, with a sideways glance.

  “I’m not, honest.”

  “Hmmm,” she says, raising and eyebrow and crossing her arms. “If there are any details about who created the portals, I’m guessing they pre-date the mainframe, Trae. We’d be looking at books or scrolls or something and that could take ages to go though. Hell, maybe it wasn’t even humans who made the portals. Maybe they’ve always been here. This could mean ancient stuff. Who even knows if it’s here. Trust me, I was just knee deep in old histories. If you’re hoping for intel on finding Runa that way, it’s next to impossible. We don’t have that kind of time. We need to come up with a faster solution,” she pauses her pacing and stares at me. “Hasn’t that thing gone yet?”

  I stop rubbing my temple and shake my head, “Not really. They go for a bit and come right back. It’s no big deal.”

  Kani shakes her head, concern written across her wrinkled forehead. “It’s not like you to get so many headaches.”

  “I’m not worried. They’ll go. It’s probably all the stress,” I offer. “Not like this is the most peaceful of times, you know?”

  “Maybe you’re not worried, but I am,” Kani says.

  “Well, stop. We have bigger issues to contend with,” I mutter, slapping her hand away from my forehead.

  Kani strolls over to my pack and pulls out the NeuroWand. I flinch knowing what’s coming next.

  “Traeton Revasco—You’re down to thirty-eight percent efficiency. Were you aware of that? How many times have you been taking this?” she says, pacing back and forth.

  I stand up, walking to where she stands and snatch the medical device from her hand.

  “Only a few times here and there. It was already low in percentage when I got it. Like I said, no big deal,” I say, shoving it back inside the pack and wishing I could already try it again. No way in hell am I stupid enough to try with Kani hovering, though.

  “Look, I’m not about to lose anyone else close to me, Traeton. Especially by their own negligent doing. If I’m worried, you should be, too.”

  “And I appreciate your concern. I just think it’s misplaced,” I say.

  “And what if it’s not?” she says, raising an eyebrow.

  “Then you can say, ‘I told you so’ later,” I say, grinning.

  “If there is a later,” she mutters.

  “I’m sure there will be. You’re not losing anyone. In fact, the plan is to get one of us back.”

  I flinch at my words, hoping they don’t set something off in Kani. Feigning nonchalance, I walk back to the mainframe to scroll through the last entry again. As I do, Fenton’s hologram reappears. Instantly, I wish I hadn’t even touched the damn thing.

  Kani gasps and breathes out, “Whoa.”

  Her face goes tremendously white, which is saying something given her naturally olive complexion.

  “It’s just the holographic backup Fenton left,” I say, fiddling with it to try to shut it down.

  “Oh, right,” she breathes, her lips pressing together in a tight line.

  “He—ah—he’s the actual interface,” I say. “So if you don’t want to help with the vassalage stuff, I totally—”

  “Yeah, not so much,” Kani says, unable to take her eyes off the hologram. After a few awkward moments, she mutters, “He looks so…normal.”

  “Yeah,” I agree. “Sounds like him, too. It’s kinda, well—at first creepy, but I suppose in the end, it’s kinda nice.”

  “No, it could never be nice. Nice would be him still here. Nice would be never having to— Nice would be not living in such a messed up world,” she says, turning on her heel. Her black and green hair spin around with her movements, as she rushes to get away.

  “Kani—” I call after her, but I know it’s pointless. It’ll be a while before I see her again.

  I look up at holographic Fenton, who shrugs. “Whatcha waitin’ fer? Do ya go’ a burning question? How ta ge’ Runa alone, perhaps?”

  I roll my eyes, “I need help finding the vassalage thing Videus is hiding.”

  “Wan’ me ta pull up all tha results fer vassalage?” holographic Fenton suggests.

  I rub my temple, trying to think through the pounding.

  “Nah, we went over those a number of times. I don’t think that’s how we’ll find it,” I say.

  Sighing, I looking into the ghostly eyes of my best friend. He looks exactly the same as he did just days ago—of course he would, he recorded the basis for this days ago. I hate that Videus was able to do this to him. Take over his mind, take him away from us. It should have been me he took over—I have the eLink embedded, after all. Why Fenton? How Fenton?

  “Search for anything related to the Helix and mind control,” I say, sitting up straighter.

  “Tha results are kinda obscure, bu’ there’s three results wit similar search parameters,” Fenton says. The three results show up on the holographic screen in front of me, and I lean in.

  The first one is gibberish. Talking about dreams, access points, and dating back into the times when we were on Earth. Shaking my head, I move on.

  The second one is closer…

  …The experiments have been inconclusive. So far, all of the subjects exhibiting schizophrenic symptoms continue with them well after the cognitive restructuring and neuronetwork has been replaced. Others continue with mild-to-extreme aggression. So far, the most exciting, albeit unnerving result has been the brain-personality alterations. A number of subjects appear to be having a personality shift as part of the process. Sometimes the results are for the better, softening the subject and making them more compliant. Others, however, have the opposite reaction. They become more agitated, harder to control. When the dosage is increased, the agitation increases. To what effect, we have yet to determine…

  …We’re finding there is a percentage of the population that is unable to let go of the people close to them, even when they know their own person is in harms way. We need to find a way to scare them into submission. All for their own good, of course…

  …We’ve found broadcasting a holographic illusion when a rehabilitated subject is taken over to be most effective. By wiping the facial features clean, we’re able to scare the relatives into submission. It appears the lack
of what makes a person recognizable is the most effective…

  …We’ve managed to maintain control of Subject A for more than fifteen minutes. Her original defiant and risk-taking qualities have been effectively subdued, as to not harm herself, her son, or her infant daughter. Unfortunately, her husband was not as fortunate. Subject D was not able to handle the Neuroshift process, and it appears his heart is failing from the voltage used. I suspect he doesn’t have more than a couple of years left, maximum…

  …Subject D has slipped into a coma. We’re monitoring closely the effect it has on the rest of the subjects in the Living Quarters. Subject A has exhibited exemplary behavior, completely responding as she should. She’s no longer seeking to run away or demanding to be allowed to live her life the way she wants. Her daughter, on the other hand, is exhibiting familiar defiant tendencies, as we suspected may happen through her genetics. She’s of particular interest as we watch her interaction to the depletion of her father figure…

  I run my tongue across my lower lip. How could they do experiments like this and be so nonchalant? Watching the interactions and the imminent death of someone with such aloofness? It doesn’t even seem human. It’s as if people have never been anything more than a tool, or experimental material. Not living beings with lives of their own.

  It’s pretty clear to me, Videus does this sort of thing just because he has some sort of God complex. He has no problem messing with other people’s minds because they’re not his own.

  In a way, Ava was like this… Hell, for all I know, we were monitored. Probably my entire family, too. When I was living it, I thought it was strange to watch her tendencies, but what if the whole family was the experiment? Maybe that’s why it always felt off to me. Hell, for all I know, they were applying pressure to see how much she could handle before she cracked. Before any of us cracked.

  Disgusted, I push back from the desk and walk in circles around it. I reach my hands up and clasp them behind my head, stretching. My back groans, telling me I should really lie down and get some rest soon.