Eye of the Abyss

by Michael Formichelli

  “There is an alternative.”

  “You should have said that first.”

  “The alternative is to destroy the core and modify the Akanda to serve as the auxiliary computer core for this ship. It will take some time, and the process has some risks.”

  “You can do that?”

  “I—”

  “Daedalus has betrayed you.” The voice came from everywhere at once, startling Nero. It took a moment to recognize it as Qismat’s, only deeper, like she had grown up.

  “I can cannibalize the needed parts from the annihilator,” Athame continued as though she hadn’t been interrupted. “My files contain the necessary plans. With the fabricator online I can create the needed parts and equipment.”

  Impressive, Prospero said.

  Qismat cut in. “Nero Graves, we have a common enemy. My master will ally with you against the machine. Together we can free humanity from its tyranny. We know what it is going to do. As a protector of the Confederation, you cannot allow this. Join us, Nero, and we can save the human species.”

  “Fuck off,” he muttered.

  Athame held up her hand. It folded back, revealing the white dome of the EMP weapon. She aimed it at the crèche, but Nero held up his hand.

  “If you destroy me, humanity and the whole Confederation will fall.” Was it his imagination or did Qismat sound desperate?

  He closed his eyes, seeing the face of Kiertah. The image rattled his teeth and filled his gut with pain. All those years ago, if he’d only been faster, wiser, if he hadn’t thrown that grenade he could have saved her mother. He swore to make it up to her, but now that chance was gone forever along with the lives of millions of innocents because of this thing and its master.

  “It’s too bad,” he said at length. “That you don’t realize what you did.”

  “I have full knowledge of my actions. They are as my master ordered. I have destroyed the Mitsugawa threat, and if you ally with me, we will destroy that of Daedalus together.”

  “You don’t know you’re just a tool for Revenant. It was his hand that took away my redemption, just as it was Daedalus’’ who took away my life. Their time is over, and so is yours. You’ve been failing to kill us for the last two days. Let me show you how it’s done.” He nodded at Athame.

  She fired.

  Nero’s scowl flashed in the light of electrical arcs as the core died.

  Chapter Eight

  Ikuzlu City, Kosfanter

  41:2:30 (J2400:3157)

  Cygni placed a cup of juice on the tray beside the lumpy-brown instant shaogo she thought resembled oatmeal. Sanul was limping around the apartment already, but she insisted he continue to stay with her for the time being to make sure he was okay. She knew she was being a bit silly about it, but part of her didn’t want to let go of his company, or that of Biren, who was sleeping on the floor beside her sofa. He insisted on staying with her as long as Sanul was, arguing it was the only reasonable thing to do since she couldn’t handle the Volgoth’s weight if there was an emergency. It was taking longer for Sanul’s leg to heal than predicted anyway. Part of her wanted to believe that Biren was here because he wanted to stay with her, but her desire confused her. His kindness reawakened feelings she hadn’t experienced since Minlea, but she shouldn’t be feeling them when she still had hope for getting Shkur to calm down and maybe believe that he hadn’t seen what he saw. Maybe it was time to do something about that. Two days was enough for him to calm down, right?

  She sighed and took a drag off her little pipe, shuddering as the kalkoa reverberated within her. It was all a big mess, but one she couldn’t bear to let go of when the rest of her life was in such a ruin. She hadn’t thought about pursuing her investigation for two days. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to now, but she knew that at any moment her implant would signal an incoming message and her new master, Baroness Sophiathena, would order her back into the fray. Maybe it was better that she just take it easy until then and concentrate on the things she could help, like Sanul.

  “Good morning sleepy.” She walked to her bed with the tray. Sanul tracked her with his eyes. Laid out as he was, the shape of his legs made a double tent under the covers. “I picked something up for you. I think the clerk almost had a heart-attack when I walked into his store.”

  “You didn’t have to do that. I think I’m healthy enough to get my own breakfast now, boss.” A crystal-toothed smile broke out on his mouth. He sat up and put his back to the wall, knocking his curving horns against it in the process.

  She winced, fearing more damage to the apartment.

  “You’re still limping, that means you’re not ready yet.” She unfolded the tray’s legs and put it over his lap. “What if you have an accident because I let you go too soon?”

  “Cygni—” he cut himself off.

  She was becoming accustomed to his mannerisms, and thought maybe the expression he just made was something like resignation, or frustration. It made her feel bad, but it didn’t impact her desire to keep him around.

  “I don’t want to keep being trouble for you.”

  “Nonsense, it’s no trouble.” She put on her best smile.

  “You can at least take your bed back, boss.” His small ears flicked at the air.

  “Maybe,” she conceded. “Eat up, it’s getting cold.”

  His nostrils flared, but he did as she asked. The sound of his chewing smacked in her ears.

  “Morning beautiful,” Biren said from the doorway, startling her.

  She looked up and froze. His hands were up on the top of the door-frame, and the only thing he wore on his dark, lean body was a beige thong that accentuated his masculine anatomy. Her eyes traced the thorny lines of his tattoos up and down the slopes of his muscles to his groin before she forced them to his face.

  He smiled. “How’d you sleep?”

  She licked her lips, barely noticing the warning about his pheromones her nasal implants sent to her UI. “All right, thank you. Yourself?”

  “Good. Had pleasant dreams. I’m gonna run down to the corner and get us something to eat, unless you’d rather I cook.”

  “Cook? This is my apartment—”

  “And you’ve done a lot for us in the last couple of days.” He nodded at Sanul slurping up breakfast. “Let me do something for you.”

  She smiled, despite herself, and felt her heart flutter. “Well, if you want to do something for me I could use some company today. I almost don’t want to ask you—”

  “Don’t get all dodgy on me. Just ask it.” He lowered his arms and crossed them before his broad chest.

  “Are you going to see Ila today?” She asked, chickening out.

  He leveled a flat stare at her. “Maybe, but never mind that. What do you need?”

  “Um,” she breathed in. “I’m worried about Shkur. He was going to challenge Ambassador Shef, and he hasn’t returned my messages. I want to check up on him.”

  “No problem. We’ll get breakfast on the way. Let me throw my stuff on.” He vanished from the doorway on silent feet, leaving only his intoxicating pheromones behind before she could say another word.

  She looked back at Sanul.

  “I’ll be fine, boss. I can keep looking for more data on what Rega’s doing,” he said in a cheery voice. “Go get your man back. If I get into trouble I can always call Giselle.”

  Cygni stiffened at her name, but made herself relax. He didn’t know what Giselle did to her, and she didn’t want to upset him. Only Biren knew, and he was sworn to secrecy. She had to work with Giselle, so there was no point in disrupting the group unity. The thought of what could happen if she did something the baroness didn’t like put ice in her blood, too. It was her burden to carry, not theirs.

  “I guess you can,” she said at length. “Take care of yourself. I’ll be back in a while.”

  “Stop worrying.” Sanul flashed his teeth at her.

  “Thanks.” She nodded, told her nasal filters to engage so she could keep a clear hea
d, and grabbed a jumpsuit off the floor on her way to the bathroom.

  Fifteen minutes later she and Biren were on a bus heading across town to the Diplomatic District. She watched the city pass by through the curving windows of the pill-shaped craft with his warm thigh pressed against hers. She let her mind go blank, losing herself in the rise and fall of the hovering autobus and the blur of the thickening crowds outside. She lied to him earlier; she hadn’t slept well since that night on top of AgroWorlds’ tower. It was a strange thing, but deprived of the exhaustion-induced sleep Agent Thuban Vargas’ interrogations provided her, the last two nights were spent reliving what happened with Pawqlan and Sinuthros as she lay paralyzed on the floor.

  “What is it?” Biren whispered to her.

  She looked up at him. “Nothing.”

  “You shivered. Your knuckles are white.” He glanced down into her lap.

  She looked and found her hands clenched. It took a deep breath to make herself unfurl them. “Sorry.”

  “Cygni, if there’s something—”

  “Don’t start, not here.” She shook her head, glancing around at their fellow riders.

  “Just, if you need—”

  “Biren.” She glared at him.

  “Okay, never mind. You know my CPAd if you need it.”

  She nodded, looking back out the window. “Is that why you’re insisting on staying with me?”

  “What?”

  “I mean, because you think I’m broken, or something?”

  His eyes widened. “Broken?”

  “You watched the recording I sent you,” she looked away from him again. Maybe it hadn’t been such a wise idea to send the events of that night to him. She wasn’t sure at the time if she was going to make it out of Thuban’s custody alive, but now she felt ashamed of what happened. Maybe if she hadn’t been so stupid as to rush to the tower Pawqlan might still be alive, and she wouldn’t be on this bus heading to beg Shkur to forgive her. She should have known something was wrong when Pawqlan refused to transmit his image to her in the taxicab. It was a foolish, rookie mistake, and she was ashamed she made it.

  “Hey, hang on a second.” Biren put a finger under her chin and turned her head towards him. “You’re not broken. He didn’t break you. You got him in the end, and we’re all better for it.”

  “But—” she started.

  “No buts here. You did the right thing. You put a monster down. You won. Don’t forget that.”

  She stared into his eyes, wanting to doubt what he said. “I couldn’t save Pawqlan.”

  “You couldn’t have. That’s not your fault.”

  “If you say so,” she brushed his hand away and turned back to the window. He took a deep breath as if to say something, but no words followed.

  They crossed into the Diplomatic District after a few minutes and the tall towers of the city were replaced by a collage of unique architecture from around the Confederation and beyond. The five major species, the Cleebians, the Solans, the Galaeneans, the Relaen, and the Isinari all had their own embassy compounds at the edge of the district. The consulates of the confederate allies were found deeper within, and further afield from those were the embassies of the non-aligned, and outright hostile sovereignties. Their stop was in the middle, where the Nyangari Protectorate shared a run-down, sienna-brown building with the Savorchan Tribal Council. Although presently part of the Sagitarian Republics, the Nyangari were in the process of ending that association. Everyone thought they were attempting to join the Confederation, but from what she gathered from Shkur, Cygni wasn’t so sure that was their endgame.

  The Savorchans were on the other side, and did want membership. They were sponsored by Baron Mitsugawa Yoji almost a decade ago, but still languished in their present, nebulous status as year after year the Barony refused to take the final ratification vote. She supposed it had to do with their politics. They were known to be completely loyal to the Mitsugawa, and as such would probably never see full membership until that changed.

  She and Biren walked from the bus stop to the steps of the consulate building. She put her foot on the first of them and turned to him.

  “You don’t have to come inside.”

  “Why am I here then? Come on, Cygni, just lead the way.” He frowned at her.

  “Biren, thank you for the company but—”

  He brushed past her and headed up to the door with bold steps. She frowned at his back and hurried after him.

  The lobby of the building was tall but narrow, with a wide staircase leading up to the second floor offices, and a spattering of doors in the walls around its base. Two podiums rested at either side of the entrance. Behind one stood a three-meter tall Savorchan wearing a sash tied around the cracked, ivory plates of his exoskeleton. His eyeless, pear-shaped skull swept back and forth in their direction as they entered, causing her auditory implants to screech with the ultrasound the Savorchans used to see. The faint smell of sulfur drifted up to her nose as she stared at the pulsing yellow veins visible beneath his plates. Savorchans, she remembered, breathed a sulfurous, acidic atmosphere, and without the metallic-breather bonnet over their cranial nostrils, would suffocate rapidly in Solan-habitable environments. She gave the hulking receptionist a quick smile and turned to the second podium where a female Nyangari sat on a tall stool with her red eyes staring out at nothing.

  Cygni moved up to her and waved her hand in front of the receptionist’s face. “Haela?”

  Haela shuddered, sending waves through the low-hanging neck pouch resting over her blue and gold dress. Her drooping ears twitched, and the petals of her rose-like olfactory organ vibrated.

  “Cygni Lau Aragón, it has been a while since you dropped by.” Her small eyes focused on Biren and her nose fluttered again. “And who is this young human?”

  “The name’s Biren,” he responded with an amused smile. He leaned forward and grabbed her hand, planting a kiss on the back of it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Haela.”

  Her black tongue flopped out of the side of her mouth in a Nyangari gesture akin to a wide grin. “My mother told me to be wary of charmers like you.”

  “And did you ever listen?” he asked.

  “Never.” Her tongue extended further out of her three lips. With apparent reluctance, she turned her attention back to Cygni. “He’s a dangerous one, isn’t he? Exciting, yes?”

  She felt herself blush. “Ah, do you have good health, Haela?”

  “I do, and yourself?”

  “Yes,” she nodded, completing the traditional Nyangari greeting. “I’m here to see Shkur.”

  Haela’s tongue withdrew into her mouth and a serious expression formed on her face. “Shkur Ithros is no longer with the consulate.”

  She felt her body go cold. “What?”

  “I am sorry to be the one to tell you. I know how close you two were.” She looked down and off to the side—Nyangari shame.

  Cygni’s eyes darted to Biren. Her mouth opened but she couldn’t think of anything for several moments. Did Shkur challenge Ambassador Shef and lose? Was he still alive? Her whole body went numb.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “We aren’t supposed to be talking about it,” Haela responded without lifting her eyes. “But considering who you are, I’ll tell you. Mister Ithros withdrew his challenge to the ambassador. Shef fired him and got him exiled from the Protectorate. He has one week to clear out of our diplomatic housing and find other arrangements.”

  “Did you say exiled?” Cygni wasn’t sure if she whispered the question or not.

  “Yes. He can never go home.” Haela’s ears wilted.

  “It’s all my fault.” She looked down at the marble floor. She couldn’t believe this was happening. First she lost Boa, then her independence, and now she destroyed Shkur’s life. She expected to be attacked by Revenant and his people as she went after him, but she hadn’t expected her actions to cause this much suffering. How could this be?

  She felt Biren put an a
rm around her. “Where is he?”

  “You know,” Haela said.

  She nodded. “Wait, I want to see the ambassador.”

  “Cygni—” Haela began.

  She shook off Biren’s arm and fixed Haela in her gaze. “I want to see Shef, right now.”

  Haela’s tongue licked all three of her lips in succession.

  “Now, Haela.” She glared.

  “Okay, I’ll ask if he’ll see you.” Her eyes lost focus.

  “Wait for me outside,” Cygni said to Biren. Without waiting for him to reply, she started up the staircase taking the steps two at a time. She reached the top and Haela shouted something at her. She didn’t bother to look back.

  The double doors leading into the main hallway parted. Twelve guards in black and red lined the corridor. Her eyes noted the chromium shine of the pistols on their hips, but she didn’t let that stop her. She knew them all from her trip to the Queen Gaia, and some of them from before that. She remembered how uncomfortable they looked while the ambassador was extracting his price in the limo, and though she doubted they would shoot her, she wasn’t sure that she cared if they did.

  The petals of their noses twitched as she stormed by them. Her eyes stayed on the wide, green door at the end of the hallway. No one moved to block her way.

  The door to the ambassador’s office split and opened before her. The click of Cygni’s shoes vanished when she crossed the threshold onto the thick, gold carpet in the antechamber. His personal secretary sat by an inner door at a low desk appropriate to Nyangari height. She looked up from its surface when Cygni entered and her ears pointed upward in alarm.

  “Excuse me, human. You cannot be in here,” she said in accented Solan.

  “Stay out of my way, cub,” she replied in Nyangari. The insult combined with her mastery of the language had the desired effect. The female was unable to react until she reached the wood panels of the ambassador’s inner door.

  “Who are you? Security!” the secretary shouted.

  “Open the doors.”

  “Security!” she cried out again.