by Gwynn White
“It’s a superstition, Olivia,” he insisted.
“And if you were to lose me? Would you really rather believe I’m gone forever?”
“I’ve already lost you once,” he reminded her. “And it damn near killed me.”
Liv stroked his hand absentmindedly and mumbled, “What I did to destroy Bas… it should have killed me. He was a much more powerful AI than the scout ship Agrona.”
“You already know you’re a powerful telepath, Liv. You were bred…”
“No,” Liv interrupted. “I know about my own history. I know what’s in my file. And we both know it should have killed me.”
Ven glanced down at their hands, woven together tightly, and relented. “Yeah. Maybe we just got lucky.”
“Or,” Liv countered, “maybe we know how to rely on each other, how to diffuse our own trauma to minimize it. Maybe our faith in each other carried us through.”
Ven grunted at her but smiled. “Don’t start with this perfect compatibility shit.”
Liv arched an eyebrow at him. “Stop being such a pain in the ass then. I’m still here, and you don’t have a logical explanation for why. I know it has to be driving you crazy.”
“After this week, let’s lay off calling anything crazy for a while,” he teased.
“Deal,” she said. “As long as you accept that Renee was right about us all along.”
Ven rose from his chair by her bed so he could sit next to her, embracing her, and as she inhaled deeply to take in his sweet, musky scent, he stroked her hair and whispered in her ear, “Olivia, Renee was almost always right about everything. And I’ve known all along she was right about you.”
26
If she hadn’t been so nervous about appearing before the Triumvirate, Liv would have enjoyed exploring the vast capital city of Teutorigos, seat of the Spire Empire’s power. But since her fate was about to be determined by a handful of strangers, she only cast a few glances out the clear sides of the flight-car as it sped toward Spire Tower, a tall, intimidating structure of gleaming silver metal and elegant, airy arches.
The immense tower twisted impossibly into the clouds, its vast base stretching wide enough to allow entire space stations to fit within it. Liv had never actually been in Spire Tower before, but now, she wondered how deep its roots dug into the ground of Teutorigos and if it contained the most dangerous criminals in the Spire in some secret dungeon… dangerous criminals like Harper.
Through Ven’s memories, she’d watched sentinels bearing the imperial insignia on their armored chest boarding his warship and escorting a heavily sedated Harper away.
Vengeance laced his fingers through hers, and she looked up at him, confused.
“You’re fidgeting. I’ve already promised you they won’t force you into their servitude.”
“I know,” Liv replied quietly. “It’s not just me, though… they have Harper.”
“My mother informed me that Harper will be brought before the Triumvirate during our session,” Ven explained. “You’ll have the chance to learn her fate, and I’ll do what I can to ensure it’s a comfortable one.”
Liv found little reassurance in Ven’s words. His mention of a “session” sounded way too much like an interrogation or worse—a trial. She’d lived in fear of discovery and being brought before a Triumvirate for so long that it felt like a literal nightmare, one more in a series of nightmares she’d been forced to live lately. But at least she had Vengeance. The girl she’d grown up with and whose friendship had saved her own sanity had no one to defend her before the Triumvirate.
The Spire was ruled by twenty-six Triumvirates spread across the empire. Each Triumvirate was made up of a Cynbel Hive Queen, her Keeva-level telepath, and a human Caderyn. These were ancient names that reflected the person’s original function: war chief, kind-one, and battle king. Shortly after the birth of the Spire Empire, it had been the telepaths who had bridged the gap between AIs and humans, ending a war that otherwise may have destroyed both sides. Liv’s only hope was that this Keeva would do the same for her and Harper, because the young women desperately needed a peacekeeper right now.
Vengeance rose as the flight-car swooped under one of the tower’s graceful arches and came to a halt above a landing site. When the vehicle touched down with a slight bump, the doors opened, and twenty massive sentinels waited outside to escort them to the Triumvirate’s chamber.
There was no escaping the Spire. Liv allowed Vengeance to lead her from the flight-car and guide her deeper into the tower with the imperial sentinels keeping pace.
Her journey ended in a room void of any furniture save three thrones situated high on a dais in the north end of the room. When they walked in, the floor, walls and ceiling were all a uniform black, but they soon shimmered as colors swirled in the dark depths. It was only then Liv discovered she was standing on a massive energy web. The glittering colors transformed into the whole of the Spire Empire—a vast, breathtaking star map. Its beauty took her breath away.
But more than that, its vastness made her head spin. “It’s like standing in the center of the universe and looking out in all directions,” she whispered to Ven.
“I’m fairly certain the universe doesn’t have a center,” a woman’s voice answered, her tone light and amused.
Liv jerked her attention back to the three thrones to find them now occupied.
The woman who had spoken smiled warmly at her. “I’m Keeva Elissa. And this is Cynbel Victorious, Hive Queen of Teutorigos.” Elissa nodded toward a young woman, who wasn’t a young woman at all. As the hive queen of Teutorigos, she was older than Vengeance. The Cynbel’s drone had long dark hair and luminous green eyes edged with velvet dark lashes in a perfectly shaped oval face. She sat on the throne with quiet assurance as she looked down on Liv.
“Olivia Hawthorne, or should I call you Hayley?” Cynbel Victorious asked.
Liv had no idea what the right answer was. She never wanted to be Hayley again. That girl had died and had been resurrected as Olivia Hawthorne, whose life had only recently been patched back together.
“Liv,” she responded. “Please.”
“Liv,” Victorious said, “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”
Keeva Elissa smiled at her again and motioned toward the man on her other side. “This is Caderyn Kenrick, Victorious’s battle king and overseer of Teutorigos.”
The stern-faced man, who looked close to forty but could have been a hundred and forty, studied Liv for a moment then nodded and addressed Vengeance. “We will begin once the Nuallan telepath Harper is brought before us.”
Liv and Ven exchanged uneasy glances because rulers were not usually expected to wait on the arrival of a prisoner, unless that prisoner was causing trouble. And they both knew Harper’s temperament well.
As if to confirm their suspicions, a familiar howling and cursing from a side corridor filled the chamber. Moments later, Harper was dragged into the room between two sentinels.
Caderyn Kenrick arched an eyebrow at Harper then laughed, destroying his earlier fierce demeanor. “If this is her sedated, I don’t think I’d want to meet her in full command of all her abilities.”
Keeva Elissa looked somewhat appalled as she addressed the newcomer. “Harper, we are not your enemy. You’re safe here. Calm down.”
Harper stopped cursing the sentinels long enough to scowl at the Keeva.
Liv was mortified. “Harper, just shut up and listen. I don’t think they’re going to hurt us.”
“Of course they’re not going to cause any permanent damage to their valuable new weapons,” Harper scoffed. “But that doesn’t mean they aren’t going to make our lives miserable.”
Liv speared Harper with a sharp look and continued aloud. “The rogues need to be stopped. They’re growing in number and abilities. The truth is the Spire needs the surviving Nuallan telepaths, and we need the AIs we were designed to complement.”
“Maybe you need an AI to hold your hand, but I don’
t,” Harper snapped.
“It’s not weakness that drove me to link with Vengeance,” Liv argued. “It was anything but. You know this better than anyone.”
“I know you love him,” Harper shot back. “And I can’t trust your judgment because of it.”
Liv sighed, but every time she looked at the woman who had chosen a life as a pirate rather than risking a future as an AI’s servant, she saw the terrified seven-year-old girl who’d held her hand as they walked down a gangplank into a dark and empty world. And she could never abandon that child.
“You’re right,” Liv said. “At first, I feared him as much as you fear all AIs, but the truth is with Vengeance I’m far stronger than I ever was alone. And our partnership will allow us to kill more rogues, which is something even you should be able to support.”
“He forced you to become his link, just like Basilisk!” Harper cried.
“No,” Liv assured her. “Vengeance was willing to let me stay on as his engineer even if I couldn’t be his link. He does love me, Harper. And he reminded me that my past doesn’t have to define me for the rest of my life.” Liv glanced up at the Triumvirate and took a slow, deep breath. “I just hope I’m allowed to continue serving as his link.”
Cynbel Victorious folded her hands in her lap and stared directly at Liv. “You and Vengeance must both be evaluated for mental health, stability, and battle readiness. After we’ve analyzed those reports, we’ll discuss your future in more detail. Too many lives are on the line to risk doing otherwise.”
Beside her, Vengeance stiffened. “Liv and I have the highest rogue kill count of any Spire warship. But even more important to me is my promise to Liv. I told her if she couldn’t handle being my link, I’d give her a safe place to stay for however long it takes her to heal.”
Victorious laughed. “Oh, my son. If I know you at all, I imagine you promised her far more than a safe place. But don’t worry. I have no plan to separate the Spire’s flagship from his destined link.”
Ven’s posture relaxed, and he squeezed Liv’s hand. “Thank you, Mother.”
“We do have a serious matter to address, though.” Victorious’s drone stood and descended the stairs, breaking what Liv assumed was some kind of Spire protocol as all the sentinels lining the walls hummed louder, bringing their secondary weapon systems online in readiness to protect their queen. The Cynbel ignored her protectors and waved a hand at the walls and ceiling. “Will you show us on the star map where the other Nuallan’s are hiding?” she asked Liv.
Liv’s mouth suddenly felt dry. She’d known this question would arise. It had to. “I can’t. I don’t know.” She’d also answered truthfully, but she doubted the Cynbel believed her.
Victorious arched an eyebrow at Liv. “You don’t know?”
“She’s a traitor,” Harper said. “As soon as we realized she’d gone back to Vengeance, we all relocated so she couldn’t sell us out.”
Liv glanced at her and nodded. “Harper’s right. We have our own protocols. If one of us is about to get captured, we can link with a communications array and send out a telepathic warning across our own version of a deep link. We situate ourselves in such a way that two or three of us are always close enough to pick up and relay distress calls to the entire group. Ask Vengeance to look inside my head. He’ll see I’m telling the truth.”
“And Harper?” Victorious asked.
“Yes,” Liv said. “As soon as Harper knew she was going be captured, she sent out the warning. Neither of us will be able to pin them down on a map for you.”
Vengeance gently squeezed her hand again. “Finding the Nuallan telepaths is their best chance at long-term survival.”
“I know. But they won’t see it that way at first. They’ll hate me.”
“But they’ll be alive, safe from the rogues. Basilisk was able to find you. I’m certain other rogues are hunting your friends now.”
Liv closed her eyes and sighed. Ven was right, of course. As long as her friends lived, they wouldn’t be safe from the rogues, which meant returning to the one thing they’d feared most: becoming links for Warships of the Spire.
“I really can’t tell you where they are, but I’m confident if Vengeance boosts my telepathic range with his deep space sensors, I’ll be able to find them eventually,” Liv offered. “It will take time, though. We’ve been hiding from AIs and Spire telepaths since we first escaped the rogues.”
“I told you she was a traitor,” Harper snapped. But her tone lacked the same bite, and she now stood with her arms folded across her chest. The two sentinels merely stood on either side.
“Thank you for your honesty, Liv,” Victorious said. She returned to her throne and addressed the other Triumvirate members. “Finding and matching the Nuallan telepaths is now of utmost importance. My son and his new link will undergo repairs and healing, but once both are cleared for duty, they will begin the hunt for the other telepaths.”
“I concur,” Kenrick said.
“As do I,” Keeva Elissa contributed. She glanced at Harper, whose expression darkened again.
“If the Spire tries to match me to some warship, I’ll fry his mind before he knows what hit him,” she warned.
“Better not match you with a male AI then, I suppose,” another female voice said.
Liv jumped at the unexpected addition of the new arrival and looked over her shoulder. Another drone had entered the Triumvirate’s chamber. She’d never met her in person, but she’d briefly spoken with the commanding AI. Brenna had survived the battle of Nebula.
The drone stopped before the dais, saluting the Triumvirate. “Warship Brenna reporting as requested.”
Cynbel Victorious nodded in acknowledgement. “Thank you for your prompt response. We wanted Vengeance and the Nuallan telepaths to hear what you reported earlier. We hope they’ll have some insight into this disturbing new development.”
Back aboard his warship body, Vengeance’s primary core sparked with curiosity and prepared to initiate a threat analysis. In the Triumvirate’s chamber, his drone body inched closer to Liv as he listened to Brenna’s report.
Brenna, whose drone sported a strawberry blond bob and had pale blue eyes that reminded Ven of the Nuallan sky, faced him and Liv. “I hate to rain on your victory parade, but there was another ship who jumped into transit as soon as the rogues were defeated at Nebula.”
“What was his birth stamp?” Vengeance asked.
“Who said it was a he?” Brenna answered. “As for a birth stamp, the ship didn’t have one.”
Liv beat him to the next question. “You mean battle damage obscured it?”
“No,” Brenna clarified. “I mean the ship didn’t have one. Likely never did.”
“The ship wasn’t Spire?” Liv asked.
“Depends on when she rolled off the line, I suppose. She might be pre-Spire.”
Brenna’s announcement was met with silence, but Ven recovered first. “Pre-Spire? Are you sure?”
“The ship was an older model. That’s all I know. Really old. The creation date could be pre- or post-Spire. But the unknown AI’s exact age wasn’t what bothered me most.”
If Vengeance had been human, he was sure his stomach would have been churning with tension. The Spire Empire had been around for thirteen thousand years. That would make this unknown ship far older than any other AI still in operation. Older, even, than any of the presently ruling Hive Queens.
“I scanned her before she escaped,” Brenna continued. “She had no telepath with her when she went into transit.”
“That’s not—” Vengeance began but was cut off.
“Possible?” Brenna finished for him. “I would have said the same, but I’ve replayed all data of the moments before the AI entered transit, and it all points to the same thing. This AI can transit without a telepath.”
“Brenna,” Victorious interrupted. “Report to Teutorigos security and prepare to have all your data put into quarantine for study. We can’t risk any kind of co
ntamination.”
Brenna’s eyes widened. “You already know something about this, don’t you? Should I be relieved or worried?”
Cynbel Victorious ignored Brenna’s questions, and her gaze roamed over Vengeance and Liv instead. “We will discuss this session with the other Triumvirates, and if we have more questions, we will call on you again. But for now, go. And Vengeance, see that your link and Harper have everything they need. The Nuallan telepaths are far more important than you know. I can’t express how happy I am to hear that many of them survived, even if we don’t know their location yet. Rest assured, we will find them and bring them back to the safety of the Spire.”
“Triumvirate,” Brenna said as she walked to the base of the steps leading up to the dais, “once I’ve been cleared by security, I’d like to request Harper become part of my crew to give her a chance to adjust to Spire life before she is matched with another AI on a permanent basis. My current link and her husband are expecting their first child in a few months, and she wishes to be taken off active duty.”
“You want to what?” Harper demanded, but both Brenna and the Triumvirate ignored her.
Caderyn Kenrick rubbed his chin thoughtfully for a moment then nodded. “A sound plan. I imagine after what Harper suffered at the hands of male rogues, she might prefer to work with one of the female AIs instead. Victorious, do you concur?”
“I do,” Cynbel Victorious agreed.
“Well, I don’t,” Harper shouted.
Victorious shot her a pointed look and said, “It’s settled.” All three members of the Triumvirate stood and descended the dais, exiting the room despite Harper’s continued protests.
“Well, then,” Brenna piped up. “Harper, unless you want these sentinels to continue babysitting you, I suggest you shut up and report to Teutorigos security with me.”
Harper folded her arms across her chest again, but her scowl wasn’t quite as angry and hateful as before. “And if I don’t?”
Brenna shrugged, but her smile never faltered. “Your new buddies will accompany us. And personally, if we’re going to have sentinels following us around everywhere, I’d prefer my own.”