by K. Gorman
“They’ve got both ground and orbital watching her. Brindon’s scrambled a team for the incursion.”
Having only passed through the empire—they’d pulled a two-day layover on Tianjin station once on their way out—her knowledge of Fallon geography was limited. Like most planets, much of Fallon’s nomenclature was inspired by Old Earth. The Indus-Yamato plate ran into another, smaller plate to its east, Talayasara, which she only knew because it had a major spaceflight port and had been on a midterm exam.
She frowned. “Watching her or watching her ship? She could have switched already.”
“No eyes on the inside of the building, but satellite history indicates nothing’s come to or left the place since her ship arrived. Unless she walked out in a tunnel, she’s probably there.”
Right. Because there was no way the surveillance could have missed her. Karin shook her head. Maybe it was her upbringing on the relatively low-tech Earth, but she didn’t put much stock in surveillance. They could bypass the cloud cover, but there was no way they could see every nook and cranny of the place. Nomiki had already brought up the possibility of tunnels, and Karin could think of other scenarios, different escapes. Hells, Sasha may never have even gone there. If she’d switched ships at some point before…
Of course, maybe they’d checked that. So far, Fallon’s military had proven quite competent.
“Are you going?” she asked.
“Yes. Of course.” Nomiki paused, giving her a backward glance. “Brindon says you can come along. You and your friends. You won’t go in, not unless they need healing, but you can watch the feeds.”
“That’s… nice of her.”
“Yes,” Nomiki said. “It is. Bring the Nemina. Reeve will escort you—he’s piloting another scout. They’ll show you where to park.”
“And you? Where are you going?”
“With the main team. This is my stop. See you soon, sis.”
Nomiki gave a small wave as she veered off to the right, heading down a hallway in a direction opposite the Nemina. Startled, Karin paused to watch her go for a few seconds, stopping in the middle of the intersection. Soldiers and other workers jostled her side when she didn’t move. Nomiki was already away, the light framing her as she tilted her head to fasten a comms unit in place.
Gods, this was moving fast. A patter of nerves fluttered over her pulse. After a few seconds, the sounds around her appeared to switch on, as if she were coming out of a tunnel.
Without another word, she turned down her hallway and set off.
Mid-way through the flight, they decided that they needed her with the incursion team. And that meant Soo-jin and Marc came along, too. Soo-jin met Karin’s raised eyebrow with one of her own.
“What? I want to see these magical fucking walls this lady can make.”
“It’s dangerous,” Karin said.
“No shit, Sol-origin-of-all.” A sudden grin flashed on her face. “You always take me to the best places.”
Karin wanted to argue more, but stopped. Soo-jin had a way of deferring things with humor—things she didn’t want to, and wouldn’t, talk about—and, by the obstinate look on her face, she had made her decision.
Far be it for her to argue with her.
She glanced up to Marc, who stood beside her in his usual cross-armed stance, and gave him a narrow-eyed look. Like Soo-jin, he also raised an eyebrow at her.
“If you think I’m staying behind, you’ve got another thing coming.” His gaze switched to the side, taking in the rest of the troops, the trees, and the building that peeked out beyond the edge of the forest. “Besides, with this many people, it’s more an invasion than an incursion. Doesn’t look like Brindon’s taking any chances.”
Invasion. Gods. Wasn’t this Nomiki’s territory? How did she get herself into this?
She focused on her breath, trying to will away the sudden, rising knot of tension in her chest and throat. The unfamiliar combat garment, a makeshift loose armament fetched from the store lockers of the other scout ship now set up as a temporary headquarters in the grass a kilometer back, made her feel half naked, as if she should be carrying a backpack or purse or something, but the reinforced shoulder, torso, arm, and leg pieces afforded her more protection than her normal, light-fitted clothing.
Let’s hope someone doesn’t shoot me in the head. Or at all, preferably.
That shouldn’t happen. She was supposed to stay in the back, away from the main action. All they needed from her was to get past Dr. Sasha’s mysterious ability to create impassable walls of writhing blackness using her own mysterious ability. She wasn’t even supposed to heal anyone. Not until after, anyway.
Gods, she thought again, leaning her head back with a huff of air. What the hell am I doing? I thought I’d vowed never to leave my dashboard again.
She had. Several times. And yet, she always seemed to find herself outside of it.
Tilting her head, she narrowed her eyes into a squint as she stared toward the suns, feeling their light beat down at her even through Chamak’s clouds. From here, she could see the outer wingtip of Dr. Sasha’s ship overhanging the roofline. About a hundred kilometers straight north of Yokohama’s urban sprawl, the building sat on a patch of foundation hemmed in by a dense mix of vegetation that had nearly hidden the building from their approaching view. Straight-cornered concrete, and old by the looks of it—Karin had tensed when she’d first seen it, reminded of the hard, practical aesthetic of the Earth compound, but the feeling had ended after further scrutiny.
Not the same, no—but similar. Both existed as single, multi-level structures. Any outbuildings lay hidden beneath the thick forest of camphor trees that crowded its back, and, although this compound didn’t have a wall around it like the one from her childhood, the property lines were clearly visible from above. Even here, it was easy to see where the concrete pad of the foundation dropped off into the downslope of the sub-tropical forest.
From what they’d worked out, the building had been a factory once, but that had been several lifetimes ago. Faint imprints of its old signage still lingered around the front, weathered beyond recognition. Outside, the concrete padding that made up a small parking lot—for ground vehicles, though the road had long washed away—had cracked and buckled so much that part of it was more gravel than solid paving, and the weeds had done more than merely choke its surface, stretching in almost to the building itself in their overgrowth.
But none of the windows were broken. Not that she’d see, and she’d had plenty of time to look.
They’d been standing around for more than an hour. Apart from listening to the occasional message over the comms link in her ear, speaking military lingo she only half understood, all she’d done was stay at the edge of the pad, out of sight among the tree-sized plants that passed as weeds on this planet, watching everyone get into position.
Surveillance. That’s what they were doing. Something with heat sensors and a device akin to a portable X-ray that, by what she could make out in the comms chatter, seemed to be having some problems seeing through the building’s walls, though they had definitely picked up some heat sources inside.
Nomiki had been pacing throughout the groups. Not so much from anxiety—that particular side effect of war was impossible for her, given her program—but from impatience and restlessness. Like a horse champing at the bit for a race. This fight had been a long time in coming. And Dr. Sasha had gotten away from her the last time.
I’ll be faster, this time. We’ll get her.
Actually, it was probable that they would. Brindon had covered all her bases. Even if Sasha managed to get away to the roof again, Brindon had a team of climbers ready to scale it. Armed with both stunners and blasters, they had orders to shoot first and ask questions later.
Sasha was one of them. Just as Nomiki’s program had burned the anxiety from her DNA, Sasha’s had been changed, too. Apart from her ability to control the Lost and make walls of blackness, they had no idea what she could do.<
br />
At least, she couldn’t make Lost. Otherwise, they’d all be boned.
Except… given her connection to them, wasn’t it logical to think her involved in that, as well? Where else could they have come from?
Whatever happened, they’d have their answer soon.
Karin flexed her fingers and stretched her neck. As she moved to do the same with her shoulder, a different voice crackled to life on her comms.
Brindon.
“Teams Tanaka, Seth, Erie, move at 15:34. Everyone else, stay off the channels. We’re starting.”
Nomiki was by her side in a second, her arrival silent and sudden. Marc watched her run her hands down Karin’s body, double-checking her armor and comms. Then Nomiki undid the security strap for her holster, slid out her blaster, and clicked the safety on its side. A thin whine sounded in the air as it powered up.
“Ready?” she asked them.
“Sure.” Marc shifted, arms still crossed, but his body tilting in a supine sway to take in the building.
“Make sure she stays at the back.” Nomiki closed an eye as she adjusted a strap, not looking up as she spoke to Marc. “She has a tendency to wander.”
“I do not,” Karin protested.
Nomiki clapped her on the shoulder, something she’d seen the other soldiers do to each other but that felt odd and forced between them. “Sure, sure, whatever you say. Just really don’t wander here.”
She snorted. “Don’t worry about me. Get Sasha.”
“Oh, I can worry about you and get her, too. I’m amazing.” A grin flashed her way, before Nomiki’s hand came back and pushed her away. “Now get back. Time’s up.”
Karin didn’t have to move. As another order crackled over the comms, Seth, her group, moved around her. Marc uncrossed his arms and made a gesture with his hand, inclining his head toward her as the last three soldiers fell in behind them.
After you.
It startled a grin out of her. She flashed him a smile and stepped forward, shoulders upright and back straight. He fell in behind her. In the back, she caught Soo-jin darting into place.
Comms traffic stalled. The drone of insects swelled, accompanied by the whistle-tweets of birds and the sound of thirty boots shuffling through the dry leaf litter. Ahead, the trees thinned, then disappeared. She half-stumbled as they broke cover, heat rising to her face as her misstep kicked a loose rock into the back of a soldier’s boot. Then more heat rose around her as they came under the full light of the cloudy day.
For a second, all she could hear was her heartbeat and the subtle roar of the twin suns, Lokabrenna and Aschere, riding through her light powers and pressing into her skin.
Then, the breaching ram slammed into the building’s frame, burst open the doors, and they were inside.
In an instant, she was back at the compound. Green-tinged light, courtesy of the outside weeds, filtered through the corridor’s windows along the front side of the building, reflecting off the worn, pale-patterned linoleum and the off-white walls. An empty reception desk met them with a low counter, the back of a monitor visible over a dip in the desk, and an office chair sat on an angle behind it. Beyond, the reception ended like the head of an arrow. One wall led to an interior office, its blinds half-shuttered on its dark interior. The other held a wall calendar, security alarm, and a large bulletin board full of school awards and pictures.
Her eyes widened as she locked on them.
There were easily a hundred children in them, though doubtless, some of them repeated. Happy, smiling faces. Children doing normal child things. Sports days, competitions, art projects, science fairs, some kind of speech competition—probably for one of Chamak’s three official languages. There were even a few drawings and an essay tacked to the board.
And, in the corner, so subtle as to be innocuous, the stylized swan of the Seirlin logo.
All the hairs on the back of her arms lifted at once.
“Sol’s child,” Soo-jin murmured. “Is that what I think it is?”
“If you’re thinking ‘crazy, illegal genetic manipulation and drug therapy lab targeted toward kids,’ then yes.”
Beside her, Marc gave her a sympathetic look. She ignored them both, instead leaning forward, hands balanced on the counter, searching the faces in the pictures.
This is new. This is new, and it’s been happening right under Chamak’s nose.
The whole world seemed to shudder at the thought. Emotion clogged the back of her throat. Then Nomiki appeared to her left, her tanned face cool and impassive. When she spoke, it wasn’t so much with anger, but certainty—the same way another person might tell her that stars had gravity or that Lokabrenna shone blue.
“Don’t worry. I’m going to kill her.”
Her sister had a way with anger. Always had. Didn’t matter what it was, Karin had watched her switch it on and off like a light.
The comms buzzed to life in their ears.
“No, you aren’t, Makos. Bring her in alive.”
When Karin glanced up, Nomiki met her eyes with a half-smile the others couldn’t see, her brown eyes dancing with amusement as she brought her left hand up, tilting her head away from the others as she pretended to adjust her comms link.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Karin waited a beat, then, with one last look at the bulletin board, she began to follow.
It was amazing how much the two compounds had in common. She supposed it shouldn’t be that odd—if the last years at the Earth compound were anything to go by, Seirlin hadn’t exactly been throwing money at Eurynome, and there were only so many ways one could redesign interiors on a budget. If it had been a spaceship, then time and placement would have made the two different, but humans had gone through thousands of years of building design by the time the Earth compound had been built. The glittering cities in the Sirius system might have a lot on Earth’s stagnated surface, but basic building designs were, at least on properly terraformed planets, a universal concept.
Besides, they only looked about fifty years different in age. Coming from Earth, she always found it hard to align relative time between the two systems.
They found their first Lost in what looked like an old classroom, an older, dark-skinned woman wearing pale pink scrubs who looked up from near the projection-board at the room’s front.
First, the guns came up. Then, when the woman didn’t do anything, tape ripped.
They secured her in a chair and moved on.
Moving near the back of the group, Karin had the time to take everything in. More bulletin boards and posters marked the walls, along with what looked like student-made cartoon animals and projects. Here an elephant cut and pasted expertly with craft foam; there a shaky drawing of a three-legged horse with a blotched-out ink mark in the corner. Science projects came next, from an older class this time. Diagrams of cell biology, muscle and organ anatomy, weather and atmospheric posters, a chart of student race times, with markers for height, weight, and age. At the end of the hall, an exit sign glowed from the ceiling, illuminating the hall in a mix of white and green.
Three more Lost occupied the next hallway’s rooms. After, the group split, with three soldiers heading up a set of stairs and the rest of them, about fifteen in total, remaining on this floor. Six more branched off into two groups, doing sweeps down either side of the junction. As Karin approached the stairs, her gaze caught on a sign on the wall.
The labs.
A shivery feeling rolled up from her toes. She ground her jaw shut as it reached her head. Images from her dreams came back. Takahashi and his green-lit room. Machines screaming around her. Sasha on the hillside, opening her medical bag. There one second, gone the next. Layla, talking about the stones.
Her fingers formed fists at her side. All these years of running, and here she was again, back in Seirlin’s grasp.
I don’t want to go down there.
Even as she thought it, she realized the thought had an ebb to it, a little pulling around the edges that ma
rked it as not completely true. Some of her didn’t want to go down there. The young, twenty-year-old version of her—the same one that had pushed away the dreams and memories and hidden her powers—she didn’t want to go down there.
But she wasn’t twenty anymore. She’d grown. Changed.
Her lip twitched into a sneer.
We’re going to go down there, find Dr. Sasha, and make her answer our questions. Even if it means getting her alone in a room with me and Nomiki.
The first sweep team came back down the stairs. A minute later, the other two came back, boots clapping on the linoleum and armor jingling with equipment.
They went downstairs.
Even as she recognized the structure—not from the compound this time, but from her university on Belenus—she realized what was happening. Whatever the building’s outward design looked like, this had been two buildings. They’d gone from the ground floor into a kind of tunnel that led them into the next section. It was newer, too, the pale linoleum from before switched out with a darker variant that gleamed like wet oil under the next exit light.
The dark color made her tense, reminding her of the Shadows even as the soldiers around her pulled out a few flashlights and shone them around, making the walls and ceiling dance in a multitude of overlapping shades that the Shadow’s darkness would not have allowed. For a second, she remembered the writhing mass of Dr. Sasha’s wall, parts of it glittering her light back, the rest eating it up like a black hole.
A plastic smell came from ahead. Then the cold, stagnant scent of old water.
The doors at the end opened under Nomiki’s hands with a squeak.
That’s when they found the rest of the Lost waiting for them on the stairs.
Chapter Seventeen
They stood like puppets waiting for their strings to be pulled. Black, tireless eyes, a variety of skin tones and hairstyles. Roughly half wore scrubs, most of that group with ID tags hanging around their necks. The rest had a mix of pajamas, student uniforms, and hospital gowns. The serpent and egg tattoo of the Eurynome Project darkened many wrists.