A sign on the door announced the cancellation of all astronomy classes until further notice. The sloppy, handwritten message offered no explanation.
He sighed. Well, at least I don’t have to worry about the creaky ladder or getting caught. Pheno scrambled up the dome. Four rotations had passed since he died. His strength had returned, but some part of him had not. He wasn’t whole; and he knew it, but the dead part remained hidden.
Pheno stretched his back on the cool, curved surface of the dome and placed his hands under his head. He could distinguish more individual stars in the Gressan sky than he had in the sky of his home world, which spun closer to the core. There the light drowned individual systems in a uniform glow from solar zenith to nadir. Light dropped noticeably during Gressa’s solar nadir. I’m closer to the void.
Sparse space lay beyond this solar system. Out there, vast distances of nothing separated increasingly rare stars. Pheno imagined travelers using up their entire life journeying to another solar system. In between, they ate, drank, and breathed the void. A lifetime of nothing. Even further out, generations would pass in a vacuum to make such a trip. For what? A destination? No. Something else. Gotta be . . . hope maybe. What’s the point? Is there really something better? What’s so great about existence?
Ertryd’s star seemed to shine brighter this nadir. He wondered how Eddientis kept going without a home or loved ones. Even I have family; sure, they sold me, but they’re still my family. Blood creates a connection to others. Eddientis has nothing. Even though they’re—were—such a stoic species . . . I dunno. To take his mind off Eddientis, Pheno looked for the star that shown upon Ti’s home. Her planet’s solar system lay near Ertryd, but the density of stars in the core made separating them a challenge for the naked eye. Pheno sighed. He hadn’t seen her since . . . She must have been the one. Who else possessed the means and interest to rescue a servile? Means and interest. What kind of interest: moral outrage, friendship, or something else? He remembered the disruption of his interrogation. Naked in the observation tube. How much had she . . . Pheno rolled onto his stomach and buried his face in his arms. Tears plinked onto the dome.
He pounded the dome’s metal. This is stupid. Pheno hocked, lifted his head, and spat over the dome’s edge. No way had Ti resurrected me. She may have been suspicious the night of my last game, but that left no time to figure out my involvement, besides resurrecting a player and buying out their play card must have cost a huge pile of credits—more than even Ti could afford, I bet. Even so, I doubt Ti would’ve butted in. When she offered to buy me from Klug, I told her to back off, and she did. I don’t need a savior, which is just another name for master. Anyway, if I can’t free myself, I’m not worth freeing. Ti knows this. That’s part of why she’s cool.
He felt himself blushing at his last thought. Pheno flipped onto his back and stared at the new star. Blushing alone in the dark—totally stupid.
“She’s behaving stranger,” said Eddientis.
“Well, her assignment’s due. I have to deliver it,” said Pheno.
“You are not understanding. She turns blue.”
“What does that mean?” asked Pheno.
Eddientis shrugged all eight tentacles.
“It’s been five rotations since I saw her last. When am I supposed to talk to her? What’s she even mad about?” asked Pheno.
“You must asking her,” said Eddientis.
“Fine.” Pheno strode from Eddientis’s room with his friend rolling close behind.
Regardless of the time, Pheno knew that Ti most likely either coded in her room or reconfigured machines in the Academy’s computing hub. The hub deployed biometric scanners, carbon-alloy locks, and surveillance to prevent unauthorized entry. Ti definitely qualified as unauthorized. Nevertheless, she came and went as she pleased, removing the latest technology and compromising network integrity by adding custom circuits to suit her needs. Pheno decided to try the hub first primarily because he hoped a neutral space would provide less of an advantage to her if he guessed wrong about her ignorance of his Sigma gameplay.
He knocked on the door. “Ti?”
No response. Pheno tried the handle. Locked.
He knocked again. “Ti, open the door.”
Nothing.
“May she not being there,” said Eddientis.
Pheno banged on the door. “I know you’re in there Ti. I’m going to stand out here and yell and draw attention to the hub until you let me in.” He waited longer than he felt comfortable then turned to seek her in the dorm when he heard the lock click and the door slide open a fraction.
She walked away from him as Pheno entered the hub. Tools foreign to him stuck out of pockets on her thighs and arms. Ti moved with purpose and pulse music followed her. Pheno stopped and sucked in his breath through clenched teeth. Ti’s typically emerald-colored skin now looked cyan and rapidly transitioned to indigo.
It can’t be that bad; I mean she’s listening to music.
Pheno caught up to her in a corridor walled on both sides by rows of circuit blades stabbed into computing cores. She crouched and pulled one out; the light in it died when the connection broke. “Ti . . . Ti—can you turn the music down?”
Ti pressed the interface on her wrist a couple of times and the music grew louder.
“Aren’t you worried someone will hear you in here?” asked Pheno.
“What? I can’t hear you,” said Ti.
Yep, she’s definitely indigo now. “I said—”
Ti tapped her wrist again. The music swelled. She jammed a new circuit blade into the gap she had made.
“Fine, here’s your homework.” He tossed a memory ball onto the floor next to Ti. The pebble-sized ball bounced once and rolled to her foot. She paid no attention to it. Pheno turned and walked away.
The music stopped. “Wait.”
Pheno turned around to see Ti pocket the memory ball and transition to aquamarine. “What?” He half-yelled the question. No one controls me. Never. Not with a whip or a tear or a scowl. She can shove her attitude—
“I’m sorry,” said Ti. Her eyes bore into him as she rose to her full height.
“You don’t look sorry,” said Pheno.
Ti crossed her arms. “I’m not, really. I’m just . . . I need your help; where’ve you been?”
“I’m a servile. I work, eat, and sleep.”
She laughed. “Of course, sorry, I spaced.”
The hardness in her laugh and the smirk that followed triggered something in him—something intent on surviving, a part of him that understood serviles have no friends, only people who choose not to hurt them at that moment. Remember that. “How can I help you, Ti?”
“I need you to figure out what’s happening,” said Ti. “I’m no good with people; I know numbers and logic, not crazy reasons and stupid choices; but what’s going on out there—they’ve locked me out.”
“Locked you out from where? Who?” asked Pheno.
“Everywhere that matters, and I have no clue who; that’s part of the prob,” said Ti. “The galactic grid has been dark since the destruction of Ertryd; it’s like the quantum gateways, all of them, blew up, which I know they didn’t ‘cause I jacked a weather satellite and pointed it’s observer right at two of the three gateways orbiting this rock; and they’re still there all lit up, but I can’t get in.” Ti stuck a fingernail in the side of her mouth and bit. “Someone with serious, mil-grade hardware wants us blind.”
“Ti, I know nothing ‘bout—”
“There’s more.” Ti looked over my shoulder. “Tell him, Eddientis.”
“Is no being big deal. The off-world streams taste stale, only Gressan streams fresh, very boring,” said Eddientis.
“No off-world coms in any form. Plus, the gov’s computing hubs booted me out,” Ti shook her head, “which is wacked ‘cause they’re everyone’s bitch. Even some private hubs, like the space port, locked down, so I went over there to see what’s up.”
“And?”
>
“And everything looks normal ‘cept the arrival and departures. All the incomings are cargo drones, no passengers. There aren’t any departures. Sure you can see passenger ships launching if you watch long enough, but those’re private yacht-types—nothin’ public, and all outbound—some of the rich appear to be running. Tell’em ‘bout the Chancetaker, Eddientis.”
“I taste nothing spoiled with Chancetaker,” said Eddientis.
“Because you refuse to see or taste or whatever. The Chancetaker shows odds for only a couple of dozen really large off-world sports and updates them once a rotation,” said Ti.
“So?” asked Pheno.
“Hello? Before Ertryd, the Chancetaker continuously updated odds on thousands of events.” Ti stared at Pheno and Eddientis. Awkward silence. “Duh, the Chancetaker switched to manual updates. At first, I thought the blackout came from someone finally securing the Grid, but whoever ratcheted the gateways censored everyone, even legit traffic.”
“You’re freaking out about a bunch of coincidences. There must be a logical explanation for all of these things,” said Pheno.
Ti scoffed. “Like what?”
Pheno shrugged. “I dunno . . . like an invasion or something.”
“And . . . I shouldn’t freak out about an invasion,” said Ti.
“I am now sinking into this freaking out,” said Eddientis.
“No one’s invading, Eddientis,” said Pheno.
Ti poked Pheno in the chest. “How do you know?”
“Because I just made that up as a possible explanation for all the weird stuff goin’ on.”
“So you admit there’s weird things happening,” said Ti.
“I didn’t say that,” said Pheno.
“Yes, you did,” said Ti. “Tell’em Eddientis.”
“I am tasting this,” said Eddientis.
“Ok, whatev—what do you want from me?” asked Pheno.
Ti stepped close to Pheno, so close he could feel her breath on his neck. She whispered into his ear, “I want Lab Boy, with his big brainy thing, to figure out what’s happening.” Then she pivoted and strode off, chirping over her shoulder, “Eddientis will help.”
So . . . so close. Pheno blinked and wobbled. Then he remembered to breathe.
Pheno opened the side door to the lab office that served as Klug’s temporarily permanent sleeping quarters. The side street was empty and dark except for the faint bluish glow of Eddientis’s containment field. “He’s passed out,” whispered Pheno.
“Why then your sound soft?” asked Eddientis.
“I don’t know,” said Pheno.
Eddientis reached out and touched a tentacle to the darkened and swollen side of Pheno’s neck. Pheno winced.
“What this? You have illness?” asked Eddientis.
“No,” said Pheno.
“Falling down?”
Pheno avoided Eddientis’s gaze. “It makes no difference; think what you want.”
“I am thinking Klug hit you. Why he do this?”
“I don’t know.” Pheno shrugged and winced again. “How can you even see in the dark?”
“Open eyes see many things,” said Eddientis.
“So how are we supposed to uncover this super-secret conspiracy that’s everywhere?” asked Pheno.
“I’m having no taste for these things,” said Eddientis.
“And I’m a servile. Nobody tells serviles anything; we only see what . . . hey, what time is it?” asked Pheno.
“Four and fifty until mid-nadir”
“Come on, I know someone who may have seen something, but we have to hurry.”
Pheno and Eddientis raced through the city’s service alleys. Pheno dared not use primary roads even after his Sigma banishment. People paid little attention to a servile running to satisfy their master. A free citizen running after a servile; however, made the servile look like a thief, and Gressan law exacted cruel punishments for criminals too incompetent to avoid capture and too poor to bribe the arresting officer.
Pheno rounded the sixth turn into the city’s intestines and smacked into a nagbot. The floating orb punched deep into his gut, knocking him back. Only Eddientis’s quick swerve and eight tentacles kept Pheno from splaying out in the gutter.
“The end is here!” The bot sounded almost joyful. “Repent! Pray for salvation.”
Pheno, doubled over, wheezed and sucked in air. Sucked and wheezed. “Wh . . . wha . . . tha . . . that blow . . . blown . . . circuit . . . doing here?”
“Repent now!” said the nagbot.
“They being above head level always,” said Eddientis.
“Why haven’t you repented?” asked the bot.
“No kidding.” Pheno straightened with a grimace.
A voice rose from the darkness ahead. “All time is passed. All will be undone.” Another nagbot bobbed erratically toward them. “Do you hear me? Are you listening?”
Eddientis wagged a tentacle at the wayward bot. “Yeah, and where people walk, not a desert—”
“They did this.” A third nagbot bumped along the alley wall toward them. A fourth, fifth, and sixth bot emerged from the shadows. “The Prefects betrayed us!” “They’re lying!” “Rise up!” “They want this to happen!” More voices, hundreds of them cried out, “Flee—pray—fight—repent—” The swarm bounded and rebounded, staggered, halted, and surged at them.
Pheno yelled over the clamor, “We have to get through there! Harden your field, Eddientis. I’ll push us through.” He slipped past Eddientis and pushed hard against the now rigid containment field. His feet ground and slipped on cobblestone. The giant ball teetered forward a smidge. Pheno looked up, panting. “Well, don’t just float there; help me!”
Eddientis jerked upward. “Oh yes, my water will fall.” Eddientis flattened the tips of its tentacles and sucked onto the forward half of the sphere. “We go now, yes.” One tentacle after another pulled down and back.
Pheno heaved. The ball moved forward, gaining speed. The first nagbot to hit made a dull thud, bounced over the top, and nearly brained Pheno. The second cracked against Eddientis’s shield, fell, and crunched underneath. Faster and faster they came as Eddientis and Pheno plowed through them. Hundreds of bots nagging them to save themselves. The machines ping-ponged and bounced and pancaked and the two stealthy navigators of back allies pushed through.
When no more bots clanged against Eddientis’s field, Pheno looked back. A hundred or more mangled bots littered the gutter. The rest moved off in random directions as if nothing had happened.
“Freaky,” said Pheno.
“I am tasting this freaky,” said Eddientis.
They moved on. Noises, distant and undefined, impressed on Pheno a sense of restlessness and danger. He took extra care to avoid being spotted, waiting in the shadows for passersby to clear the few open crossings on their path. The few people they saw hastened with quickened steps and nervous glances. Pheno stopped Eddientis in an alley with a single overhead light illuminating a fire-grade metal door. He pulled the Ertryd behind a derelict transit pod with a crushed roof and graffiti curses splattered randomly on its sides.
“We’re here,” said Pheno. “What times is it?”
“Three and twenty until mid-nadir. Where are we being?” asked Eddientis.
“Good, we’ll wait here for her.”
“Who?”
“Shhh, someone’s coming,” said Pheno.
A young boy, wearing a torn and dirty tunic with no pants, approached the door. He faced a black square to the right of the door, a red light pulsed then a bolt clanged and the door opened. The boy stepped through quickly and the door shut.
“Huh, I didn’t think he’d make it,” said Pheno.
“Not making what?” asked Eddientis.
“Passed level one . . .” Pheno swallowed. “He’s a Sigma player.”
Eddientis froze, an eerie spectacle for a species with eight tentacles. “Do you playing Sigma?”
That’s easy. “No.”
> “Then how you taste players?” asked Eddientis.
Pheno turned away, grimaced, and shrugged.
“I am tasting sorry; my translator unworking gestures,” said Eddientis.
“Serviles make up most of the players. We talk to each other; word gets around,” said Pheno.
“I am tasting falseness; Ti saying most serviles keep Sigma play secret because masters hate serviles tasting death.”
This is not going well. “Ti isn’t a servile. She knows what she knows and nothin’ more. Serviles tell each other things they never tell their masters.”
The two watched a trickle of serviles pass through the door. Eddientis remained silent and still.
Why’s it frozen? I wish it’d stop staring at me with those glassy, dinner plate eyes. It’s like a stalker or dead or a dead stalker. At least it’s not asking more questions. The last thing I want is open acknowledgement of my Sigma play to Ti and Eddientis. They act as if they’ve got a claim to me, a stake in my future, like my parents or something . . . no, not like my parents—like someone else’s parents might. Pheno started when Eddientis spoke.
“How you knowing Sigma Game location? Ti saying game locations kept secret to guard from hackers.”
“Ti’s got a big mouth; she’s always talkin’ ‘bout stuff as if she knows it instead of just read ‘bout it,” muttered Pheno. “Shhh. Someone’s coming.”
After the servile entered the door, Eddientis asked, “How you knowing this place?”
Pheno faced Eddientis’s closest eye. “Life’s different for me, Eddientis. You and Ti act like I’m your equal, but I’m not, not really. I know what I know because I have to survive. Neither of you understand what that means.” Sorry for this Eddientis. “Just like I’ve got no idea how you handle your life since . . . I want to know—I mean I want to help, but I figured asking something simple like ‘how are you’ might be a bad thing. Most people don’t care; they ask because it makes’em feel caring when they aren’t. Personally, I’d like to know.”
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