Gods of Rust and Ruin

by Azalea Ellis

  We crawled through the metal-walled vent slowly, pausing at the grate over the team barracks. A quick foray with my extra-sensory Perception told me my brother was sleeping within. It took me longer than I'd expected to navigate through the three-dimensional maze. Partially because of the monitoring devices I discovered hiding around some of the corners in the ducts. I cursed spectacularly in my head, glad that I'd been sensing my way ahead and had noticed them before they noticed me. I ended up having to take several detours to avoid them.

  I would have been dripping with sweat if not for the cool air pumping through the shafts in a less-than-gentle breeze, and even so I was panting from all the spread-eagled climbing and descending I had to do, taking roundabout paths to avoid the sensors on the more maneuverable shafts. If not for the days of climbing mount Behelaino, I might not have been able to do it.

  As I grew nearer to the alien’s cell, a buzzing sound, like a variation of white noise, filled the air and brushed insistently against my skin. It ran just beneath what I might have noticed if my Perception wasn't so heightened. As it was, I could feel the hair on my arms vibrating along with it. By the time I entered the vent that connected to his cell, it was strong enough to feel in the metal under my fingertips. I’d noticed the buzzing when I’d sent my awareness down before, but not when Commander Petralka had brought me to look at him the normal way. Was he causing it, or was it something NIX did?

  I drew my knees up to my chest so Birch would be able to fit beside me if he wanted to, and poked my head forward to peek through a slit in the grate.

  The man met my eyes, glaring up at me in complete awareness.

  I jerked back without thinking, as if he'd slapped me. When my heart stopped squeezing with a combination of shock and fear, I leaned forward again, and met his glare. "Don't make a scene," I whispered, almost inaudibly. "They'll come." Could he hear me? I'd heard him speaking English in the vids Commander Petralka had shown me, so I knew he could understand.

  "Why should I not?" he said. His voice was hoarse, whether from disuse or from screaming I didn't know, and his mouth formed the words strangely, lilting with an accent I didn't recognize.

  It must be an Estreyan accent, I realized. The realization that aliens existed hit me anew, as I realized how absolutely bizarre my current situation was.

  "I doubt you are supposed to be here," he said, voice low. I hoped whatever microphones they had in the room were also affected by the white noise, and wouldn't pick up on his murmur.

  “I am definitely not supposed to be here. But you must hate them, too. Why would you alert them?”

  "You are one of them!" He growled up at me, lips curling back from his teeth in a feral snarl.

  I shrank back. I couldn't help it. My body knew that he was a predator, and compared to him, I was prey. Great. Make an alliance with someone who hates me. No problem. “I’m not one of them. They have power over me, and they're using it to try and control me."

  He scoffed, a sharp huff of air through flaring nostrils. "You wear their clothing, sleep among them, train among them. You are just another of the . . .” he paused here, as if searching for a word he couldn't find, ". . . two-legged maggots." The machines to one side began to beep more rapidly, an obvious warning. “Your kind is a horrid race, matched only in your natural weakness by your capacity for cruelty."

  I opened my mouth to argue with him, and then closed it. What was I going to say? Just one look at the red, raised flesh around his cuffs, the tubes running in and out all over his body, and the sunken, bruised skin under his eyes would have made me a liar. I looked down at my own claws, which I hadn't retracted. They were evidence, too. "You're right," I said instead. "My kind is cruel. And compared to you, we are also weak, no doubt. I can feel it in the air and the way the hair on the back of my neck rises when I just look at you. But my kind also have a saying. 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend.'"

  He relaxed, one deliberate muscle at a time, and the machines calmed. “Why are you here?”

  “I am here right now on a quest given by the Oracle. I am here within NIX . . . because they manipulated me and predicted my decisions. They somehow knew that I would agree to stay, if I knew that you were being held here. But I learned that they’re betraying me already, and have plans to stab me in the back in other ways. I think they might have been lying about quite a few more things, and I’m hoping you can help me.”

  “The Oracle?” he said, ignoring the other parts of my explanation.

  “Well, that's what she said her name was. She was made of stone, and every time she moved she made music, and she used these birdbaths that played music and sent shadows of herself to fight me . . . ugh.” I groaned. "I'm not making any sense. The Oracle is a stone . . . creature, from your world, who gave me three puzzles. I’ve just solved the second one, and it involves you.”

  His eyes widened, and for the first time since I'd arrived above his holding cell, I felt like I had the upper hand. That might have been nice, if I hadn't been so desperate for him to provide something other than shocked silence.

  "You . . .” He stared at me, his eyes narrowing, but not quite with hatred. He didn’t continue with whatever he’d been going to say.

  “Is it true? That your kind is going to attack our world?” Why had the Oracle told me to make an alliance with him?

  The alien snarled at me once again. "Yes! My warriors will come for me. We will come in force and raze your cities to the ground like the ripe grain of a field. Your putrid maggot species will be wiped from the face of this planet, no more to defile it." The machines were beeping at him again, this time more urgently, and I waited a while for him to control himself, and them to calm down.

  I could take a hint. Hatred for humanity was a trigger subject. Since I was a human, I was a little worried about the likelihood of completing the quest.

  Birch decided that was the moment to come forward and peek through the vent beside me. He let out a chattering sound, and curled his claws around the metal of the grate.

  “A . . . tailos?” the alien said, almost breathless.

  “Yes! One of the Trials NIX sent us to was in their habitat. The retchin—you’re familiar with those?” At his nod I continued, “They were attacking, pretty much wiping out all the tailos. We fought back but we lost. The leader gave me her egg to protect, and after we got back to Earth, Birch hatched.” Mentions of his world seemed to be the key to negotiating with him.

  He was staring up at Birch and me with no hint of a scowl. “When you met the . . . Oracle. Did she reveal anything to you? Did she speak with you, when she bestowed upon you the three gifts? A message, or a task?”

  “Err, not really. She said I’d proven myself worthy, gave me the puzzles, and said some platitude about walking in the midst of tribulation and not wavering,” I said, but he stared up at me as if waiting for more. “The first puzzle led me to a . . . mountain-woman named Behelaino. From her, I got a black Seed, that I’m pretty sure she called Khaos.” I enunciated the “K” and “H” separately, as she had done. “She warned me that it would destroy me, but I thought maybe I was supposed to take it, and that it would help me do what I needed to, so that I could save . . . save us from NIX.” I hesitated for a moment. “But it's destroying my body. So, I solved the second puzzle, and had another vision, which you were in. Then, the Oracle connected to the Virtual Reality chip that NIX implanted in my brain, and gave me a quest to come see you. I was hoping that with your background, you might have an idea about what I should do to save myself. I can't heal fast enough to keep up with its growth, even though I’m putting all the normal Seeds from the Trials into the healing Attributes.”

  “The ‘normal’ Seeds?” His voice turned into a growl. “Your kind have made a horror of the Bestowals, as you know, and yet you continue to reward yourself with the theft of my blood. You force the blood-covenant on me in pretense of a bond . . .” his voice grew hoarse with the strength of emotion, and guttered out.

  I
blinked at him. "Your blood?"

  He strained against the cuffs again in sudden rage. “You pretend innocence, when I know you take my blood willingly, though I have not consented! You are despicable. I wish destruction on you and all your progeny, till the sun falls from the sky." The full force of his presence, his rage, was back again, making it hard to think beyond the instinctual need to protect myself from imminent death.

  Birch growled at him, wings flaring out to make himself seem bigger.

  "Your blood is what makes the Seeds," I muttered, managing to ignore his outburst. My mind was exploding like a firework. "They're not making Seeds, they're . . .” I looked at all the tubes puncturing his skin, running outward like a splayed mass of tentacles to the machines. "Harvesting them," I whispered, finally. I focused harder, letting my Huntress Skill sharpen my eyesight, until the faint shimmer of the substance within the tubes was clear. "Oh my god," I said aloud, inanely.

  "But . . . how do they keep you here?" I wondered aloud. "If the Shortcut takes anyone with the Seeds in their system, wouldn't you escape back to your homeland every Trial?"

  "Is that what they tell you? That my 'Shortcut' takes all who have a blood-covenant with me?"

  I knew the answer without him saying it, from the look on his face. "It doesn't. That's a lie. They have complete control over who stays and who goes." I pressed my forehead against my knees, staring down at the dark fabric of my bodysuit. It meant that they didn't even need to cleanse Zed to keep him from the Trials. I wanted to throw up. How stupid could I have been?

  He stared at me, his expression unreadable, but at least no longer radiating fury. His head jerked a few inches to the side, his eyes going distant. “They are coming. You must leave now, human. Come talk to me again soon.”

  I didn’t need any more prompting than that to start moving away, but paused, turning my head back to the grate I could no longer see through. "What's your name?" I asked.

  "I am Torliam, son of Mardinest, of the line of Aethezriel.”

  “I’m Eve Redding,” I said, moving away again but sure he would hear me. “No fancy titles.”

  He said something else, but I did not hear him past my own pounding heart and the incessant buzzing.

  In the corner of my vision, the countdown timer disintegrated.

  Chapter 8

  Someone I loved once gave me a box of darkness. It took me years to understand that this, too, was a gift.

  — Mary Oliver

  The next day, I talked to Adam, bringing him into the loop about my recent discoveries. NIX’s puppeteering, the experimentation on Zed, the second vision from the Oracle and the subsequent strange behavior of my VR chip, and the alien far beneath our feet.

  Adam seemed to be unsure how to respond to the influx of ulcer-inducing information. His hair stood on end from a building static charge, and he took the time to give me an all-purpose, “I told you so,” for all the times I’d ignored his pessimism and paranoia. “It’s not paranoia if they really are out to get you,” he said, lips turning up at the corners just a bit.

  I raised an eyebrow. “Is that the important thing to be dwelling on right now? Yes. You were right, some of the times you were suspicious.”

  “I notice that you can no longer say, ‘acted crazy,’” he said pointedly, letting the electrical build up jump between the fingers of his hand in miniature arcs of lightning.

  “We need to deal with Blaine,” I said, sobering him handily. “He’s useful, and I’m pretty sure that he really does hate NIX with a passion. It’s just that our previous offer wasn’t good enough to make him actually put the kiddos in danger. We need to present him with a more . . . persuasive argument.”

  During our free period, the entire squad moved to the courtyard to get a workout and training session in, under Jacky’s leadership. The courtyard was really more like a huge, artificial caldera. It was the best place to talk unobserved by NIX, because the wide-open space was free from the mics around the walls, and at such a high altitude, the wind always seemed to be blowing, even better for not being overheard.

  Instead of joining in, Adam and I drew Blaine away from the main group. “A storm is coming,” Blaine said. “I can smell the ozone in the air. Quite interesting, you know. A similar smell is created when . . .” His eyes flicked between Adam’s and my own face. “What is this about?”

  “Do you remember the first time we met?” I asked.

  "Yes." He chuckled a bit. "You all burst in, asking who I was working for, and willing to do anything to get me to talk." He held up his hand, the crushed finger of which Sam had healed.

  I turned to him more fully, looked him in the eyes, and said as significantly as I could, "I know."

  He stared at me for a second, and then his eyes dilated visibly as he sucked in a ragged breath. Blaine was anything but dense. He understood exactly what I meant. He straightened. "I knew you would find me out."

  That surprised me. I shared a quick look with Adam. “Then why did you do it?"

  "You know why." He looked to the kiddos, who were laughing with Birch as they followed Jacky’s instructions. "I had no choice. I couldn't risk it, not when I was wagering with their lives.” He paused, and then added with difficulty, “Are you going to kill me?"

  I tilted my head to the side, studying him. “I would have a hard time hiding the fact that I’d killed you.” I smiled kindly, for the benefit of any watching us. “But I don’t think I’m going to have to worry about that. I did already know why you lied to me, and to all of us. I just wanted you to say what’s really important to you out loud.”

  “You’d hurt . . . them?” Blaine’s voice grew gravelly.

  “Would that make you loyal to me?” I was doing my best to exude a sense of calm that I didn’t actually feel. I noted every twitch of his facial muscles, the tone of voice, his body language and breathing, watching for any reaction that could help me navigate the conversation. “I don’t think it would. It certainly hasn’t made you more loyal to NIX, has it? When Petralka put Kris and Gregor into our mock battle, so that they could be hurt? Did you know she did that as a chastisement, because you actually did turn off our VR chips and GPS trackers, instead of just saying you did while allowing them to have access?”

  Blaine seemed to be trying to find something to do, or say, his body fidgeting while his eyes stayed locked to mine, the glasses making them look just a bit larger. If he were a film actor he’d play a kind kindergarten teacher. He was handsome, but unassuming. A face you could trust.

  “I’ve learned quite a few things that might interest you, Blaine. I, too, bargained with Commander Petralka, for the safety of someone I care about. Someone defenseless. A few days ago, I watched secretly as they experimented on my brother with nanites. Trying to overcome the limitations imposed by the fact that NIX can’t create their own Seeds, and most of the population can’t assimilate them without dying. As I understand, they’ve tried before. Subjects have died. In fact, the scientists are excited that he might be the first functional alternative to the Seeds.”

  Adam interjected then, with perfect timing. “Gregor swears those nightmares he has are real. What if something is happening to them, under NIX’s protection? Even if it isn’t, how long do you think that will last? How much will they try to get away with, while you continue to ‘protect’ the kiddos with your loyalty?”

  “I want to keep us all safe,” I said. “I’m coming up with a plan, but I know I’m going to need your help. For real, this time.” And that was all it took.

  Zed threw an angled punch toward my kidney, which I avoided by twisting my body in a way that most gymnasts couldn’t, and landed a glancing blow with the side of one of my clawed feet.

  “Point for me.” I grinned wolfishly, and bounced up and down on my toes a couple times.

  “This is obviously unfair,” he said, though he didn’t let that deter him from attacking again. “How am I supposed to compare to an alien mutant woman?”

  I slippe
d past him and kicked the back of his knee, which made him stumble but not fall. “I don’t know . . .” I twisted and caught his neck in the crook of my elbow, bringing his head down to thoroughly tousle his hair. “Maybe you could use some of your cyborg powers?” I said, just loud enough for him to hear.

  He struggled free and took a moment to straighten his now-tangled hair. “You’ve taken this too far. I hope you’re prepared for my retribution.”

  I slid my feet apart, settling into horse stance like a kung fu master. I beckoned him with one arm outstretched. “Bring it.”

  The whole team was sparring toward one side of the courtyard, with Jacky directly instructing the less experienced, while the rest of us practiced on our own, except for the occasional comment from her. Kris and Gregor were learning to attack viciously in ways that might give them the opportunity to run away from a stronger opponent. Blaine and Bunny were being forced to hit a punching bag in endless repetition, which Blaine took to much better than the petulant Bunny.

  Blaine had kept to his word about making sure both he and the kiddos were better able to defend themselves if need be, and as I’d followed him sporadically with my awareness for the last day, he hadn’t done anything obvious to betray us to NIX. He was exhausted from working so hard, and I believed in the fact that he was on our side fully now, though it would be a while before I could let my guard down around him, even if I did understand why he’d made the decisions he had.

  Adam and Sam were sparring in a way that gave both of them practice with what they needed. Adam created Animated ink constructs, mostly animals, and set them on Sam, who could feel free to attack without fear of harming something that could actually feel pain. Birch had volunteered himself to help Sam defeat the animals, and was also happy to rush in and attack Adam with tooth, claw, and a not-quite-fearsome roar if he saw the opportunity.

  After Zed got tired enough to need a water break, I wandered over to watch the spar between Adam, Sam, and Birch. Adam had a variety of materials spread out around him, both different inks and different surfaces to draw upon. He was already panting from exertion, though except for the rare times Birch had gotten past one of his ink constructs, he hadn’t had to fight physically, and in fact had barely moved. “Have you come to distract me?” he asked, bright red paint dripping from the artist’s paintbrush in his hand.