by Rachel Bach
“Commander Caldswell,” she said crisply. “Well met, sir.”
“I’d hardly call such business well met, Eye Natalia,” Caldswell said. “Do you have what we discussed?”
I winced. The captain’s voice was calm, but I could tell from his posture that he was pissed. The lady, Eye Natalia, must have picked that up too, because she cleared her throat and glanced nervously at her partner, a huge brick of a man in a black suit very similar to the ones the cook always wore. “We do,” she said. “We can begin at any time.”
Caldswell hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his coat and turned his glare to the cook, who’d stayed perfectly still through the whole exchange. “Do it.”
Eye Natalia saluted again, but it was her partner who acted. The huge man let go of his Ren’s hand and turned away, walking through the shadows to a little door at the bunker’s far end. He returned a minute later, dragging something behind him.
The light from the bunker’s single lamp was so bad, I couldn’t actually make out what it was at first. The cook recognized it, though. His whole body had gone stiff the moment the thing came through the door. But as the big man dragged it closer, I stopped worrying about the cook. As they entered the light, I could see that the limp weight Eye Natalia’s partner was dragging across the icy cement was a woman. A petite, young-looking woman with wavy, flyaway brown hair, most of which was drenched in blood from a head wound.
My stomach began to ice over, but I forced myself to keep watching as the man stopped in front of Caldswell and yanked the bloody woman to her knees. This close, I could now see that the bloody rags she was wearing were actually the shredded remains of a suit of Paradoxian underarmor. The woman had clearly put up a fight before being brought here, because her knuckles were bloody, too. That was to be expected, though, because when the big man yanked the woman’s head up, it was my face that appeared, teeth bared in fury and vengeance despite the blood that trickled from my split temple.
By this point, my brain was moving at a snail’s pace. I could see the whole scene frozen like a picture in front of me, Natalia standing hand in hand with her Ren across the room, watching dispassionately while the huge man held the bloody Devi, me, on her knees in front of the cook with Caldswell standing slightly to the side, the captain’s hand resting on his own daughter’s shoulder. I could see every detail in sharp relief, the blood running down her, my legs to pool on the icy ground, the frantic, terrified jerk of my chest as it rose and fell beneath the shredded suit of underarmor, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make sense of it. All I knew was that this was a very bad dream indeed, and I needed to get out, now, before it got any worse.
But when I turned to go, Ren’s fingers tightened on my hand. I looked down to see her staring at me, her eyes dark and deep as space itself. Watch, her voice whispered in my mind.
The word was a command, and I had no choice. I watched.
When the bloody Devi was more or less steady, Caldswell reached under his coat and drew out a huge pearl-handled pistol. I’d never seen this particular gun before, but I recognized the type immediately. It was the old-fashioned gun Rashid carried to kill xith’cal, a disrupter pistol. Caldswell’s was clearly a trusted old gun, personal favorite, I’d bet, which was why I was surprised when he turned the weapon around and held it out to the cook.
The cook hadn’t moved a muscle the whole time. He was staring at the woman on the ground, my bloody self, like he’d seen a ghost, and the longer he stared, the more his perennially icy gaze melted. By the time he spoke, he looked almost human, and almost broken.
“Not this,” he whispered, voice shaking. “I did it for her, Brian. Don’t make me do this.”
The captain’s answer was cold and dry and terrible. “If you’d followed orders in the first place, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”
“No,” the cook said, his breaths coming quicker and quicker. “I was careful. I combed her mind and took everything that could possibly lead back to us. She’s clean, I swear it.”
“She’s nothing of the kind,” Caldswell replied. “Come on, Charkov, don’t be a fool. You know scrubs don’t stick on strong emotions or traumatic memories.”
“They can if you get the victim out,” the cook hissed, looking at the captain for the first time since this began. “If you’d gotten her off the ship when I asked—”
He broke off as the Devi on the floor whispered, “Rupert…”
The cook winced like the name was a blow, and Caldswell’s eyes narrowed. “The mission comes first,” the captain said, pushing the gun at him. “Follow your orders, Eye Charkov.”
The next few moments seemed to take forever. The bunker was utterly silent except for the howl of the snow outside and the soft drip of blood on cement. And then, slowly, the cook’s hand reached out. The moment his shaking fingers curled around the pistol’s pearl grip, the Devi on the floor began to thrash.
“No!” she shrieked, and I winced at the sound. I cannot begin to describe how unsettling it is to hear your own voice screaming in desperate terror. The bloody Devi was throwing her weight around now, trying to wrench herself out of the other man’s hold. It was a good effort, but she was too badly injured, and the man was so much bigger. He held her down easily, and all her thrashing managed to do was lose her more blood. When it was clear she wasn’t getting out that way, she turned back to the cook. Her tanned face was nearly white from blood loss now. I wasn’t sure actually how she hadn’t passed out yet, but she was still up, and she was staring up at the cook with such desperate hope that my heart nearly broke.
“Rupert!” she cried. “Don’t do it! Get me out, we can take them!”
Her words were frantic, and they did no good. Above her, Rupert lifted the gun. His hand was shaking so badly the barrel trembled in the air, but it stilled as he pressed it against her bloody forehead.
“No!” she cried, or she tried to. The Devi on the floor was too weak to shout now, but her brown eyes were wide and bright with tears and pain. “I love you, Rupert, don’t do this. Please, Rupert!”
Her voice broke after that, collapsing into a pleading gibberish of Universal and King’s Tongue that made me want to weep. I didn’t know how the cook could bear it. Maybe he couldn’t, because though the pistol was pressed into Devi’s forehead, his finger still hadn’t moved on the trigger, and with each second that ticked by, Caldswell’s scowl deepened.
And then, just when the captain’s patience seemed to be running out, an explosion split the air.
Devi’s pleading, my pleading, cut off like a switch. For one breathless moment, she seemed to hang, and then her body toppled over. She hit the bloody cement with a dull thud, a thin line of smoke rising from the perfectly circular blackened hole the disrupter pistol’s blast had burned through her head. Through my head.
Then, like a mirage, the body flickered and vanished. The blood vanished as well, just disappeared like it had never been. In the blink of an eye, all signs of my other self were gone completely, leaving nothing but a fist-sized smoking crater in the bunker’s cement floor.
For one long moment, I thought Rupert was going to fall, too. He was staring at the place where my body had been like the world no longer made sense. Finally, his eyes went to the two Rens he could see, flicking between Caldswell’s and the one clutching Natalia’s hand. He swallowed once, then again, and in a small, throaty voice, he whispered, “An illusion?”
“Your punishment,” Caldswell replied, plucking the gun from Rupert’s limp fingers. “And your test. After your disobedience on Falcon Thirty-Four, we had to be sure we could count on you to do the right thing when the time came, and you did. You passed.” He put his hand on Rupert’s shoulder as he said this. The move was probably supposed to be congratulatory, but as the captain’s fingers tightened, all I could think was this was the closest to an apology Caldswell would ever come. “Welcome back to the fold, Eye Charkov.”
Natalia and her partner stepped forward to offer their
congratulations as well. Rupert stood cold and straight, accepting their words with murmured thanks, but his blue eyes were still fixed on the crater his shot had blasted in the floor, and his jaw was clenching tighter and tighter, like he was about to shatter. I didn’t wait around to see if he would. I was already marching out of the building.
I fully expected Ren to stop me as she had every other time, but to my surprise, the girl followed meekly, her fingers soft on mine as we walked right through the bunker’s wall and into the snow outside. It was only when we’d gotten far enough away that the blizzard hid the mountain completely that I turned around. “Why did you show me this?”
I screamed the words so hard my throat ached, but even as they left my mouth, I knew it was pointless. This was a dream. Yelling at Ren was about as useful as yelling into the void, but I couldn’t help it. I was confused, scared, and terrifyingly angry. So angry my body would burst if something didn’t come out.
“Why did you do this?” I demanded, dragging up the hand Ren was still clutching until I was shaking it in her face. “Why am I here?”
“To see the truth,” Ren whispered.
My rage sputtered to a stop. Ren’s voice sounded just like before, but now the sound came from her lips. She was staring up at me, and for the first time ever, her face was not a blank mask. She was looking at me in earnest, her eyes fever bright and her cheeks wet with tears. “I know what you’ve become,” she said over the wind. “Maat is sending help. When you get it, come and find me.”
“Find you?” I snapped. “You’re Caldswell’s daughter, we live on the same ship.”
“I am Ren,” Ren said, shaking her head. “But Ren is not me. None of them are. You have to find me, Deviana Morris. It’s the only way to set us free.”
“Free from what?” I cried. “What does any of that even mean? And why me?”
Ren released my hand only to grab my face. She was a small girl, but she wrenched me down with no problem, putting us nose to nose. This close, I could see my face reflected in her wild too-bright eyes, and what I saw made me recoil in horror. There was something on my skin, crawling up my neck and over my cheeks.
Black soot. Black soot just like the stuff that had been on my fingers at Caldswell’s door was spreading over my face like an ink stain spreading through cloth. It was so horrible I couldn’t do anything but stare for several seconds, but when the scream finally rose in my throat, Ren’s hand covered my mouth, locking it in.
“It must be you,” she whispered as the black stuff started seeping from my skin into her fingers. “Because you are the only one who can.”
I screamed against her hand, a wordless demand for understanding, for answers. But as she finished speaking, Ren shoved me away, and I slammed back into my body so hard it knocked my breath out.
“Miss Morris!”
I blinked as the world spun and settled into a familiar setting. I was back in the cargo bay, standing in my suit with the mop still in my hands and Rashid and Hyrek in my face.
“Miss Morris!” Rashid shouted again, waving his hand back and forth in front of my face.
I dropped the mop and yanked my helmet off, making Rashid jump away with a startled yelp. I ignored him, turning my helmet around. But when I looked in my mirrored visor, all I saw was my own panicked reflection staring back at me.
If I hadn’t been wearing my suit, I would have collapsed. There was no black stuff on my skin, no spreading darkness. It had been a dream. My relief was so intense I actually started to laugh. I was trying to stifle my giggles when Hyrek shoved his handset into my face.
What is going on?
“A dream,” I panted.
I knew from Hyrek’s scowl that was not the right answer, but my brain was too scrambled to lie. The fear of the dream was still clinging to me, so much so that I still wasn’t sure if I was really awake yet. I looked away from the xith’cal doctor and bent over, resting my hands on my knees as I tried to clear my head. “What happened?”
I’d asked Hyrek, but Rashid answered. “I asked you a question over the com and you didn’t respond. After several tries, I came down and found you standing still as a statue. You didn’t react to words or touch, so I called for the doctor. He’d just arrived when you woke up.”
I blanched. It sounded pretty bad when he put it that way. Hyrek saw my reaction, and his claws flew over his handset. Medbay, it read when he turned it back to me. Now.
The order sparked a mini panic. Thanks to my earlier mistake, letting him know I could see the glowing bugs, Hyrek thought I was half insane already. If I wanted to finish out my tour on the Fool, I couldn’t give him more ammunition.
That thought was enough to kick the last of the dream away, and I straightened up immediately, snapping back into professional merc mode. “No need for that,” I said with a smile. “I’m perfectly…”
My voice trailed off as my eyes caught sight of the soft blue-white glow behind Hyrek’s head. I’d been so wrapped up in the dream and fending off my shipmates, I hadn’t even noticed the creatures.
The cargo bay was resplendent with tiny glowing bugs. They carpeted the floor and walls, dangled from the ceiling and floated in the air. There must have been thousands of them, and their combined blue-white radiance was so bright it hurt my eyes. But though the glowing creatures had crowded themselves into every nook and cranny in the cargo bay, the space around me was clear. The glowing carpet stopped three feet from my boots, and not a single one of the floating bugs was within arm’s reach. It was like I was standing in a bubble, surrounded by some kind of invisible boundary the creatures would not cross.
Before I could think better of it, I took a step to test the theory. The movement nearly caused a stampede as all the bugs skittered frantically to keep away from me. It was pretty funny to watch, actually. Grinning, I lifted my boot to send them scrambling again, but before I could take a step, I realized that Hyrek and Rashid were looking at me like I’d lost my mind.
For one long second, we stared at one another, and then Hyrek’s hand shot out, his claws hooking into the open neck of my suit. Medbay, his handset read. Or you’re relieved from duty.
There was no point in fighting after that little display. I let the lizard drag me away, calling for Rashid to take care of things until I got back. He promised he would, waving at me with the weak half smile used for appeasing crazy people. Behind him, the glowing bugs began to drift away, scattering like blown snow through the Fool’s hull and out into the blizzard beyond.
I had to do a lot more pleading to get Hyrek to let me out of the medbay this time.
“For the love of the Sacred King, Hyrek,” I moaned after the fifth round of inconclusive tests. “Just let me go.”
The doctor snapped his fangs at me and clicked his claws furiously across his handset. No. There’s something wrong with you, and until I figure out what that is, you go nowhere.
“You didn’t find anything the last four times you checked,” I pointed out. Again. “You’re not going to now. I just fell asleep.”
On your feet, in the cargo bay, in midmop, Hyrek typed with a snort. You want to try a new one?
“No, because that’s what happened,” I said, keeping my voice calm and reasonable. “The stress of living with a xith’cal has given me narcolepsy.”
Narcolepsy is genetic, Hyrek wrote. And I don’t think you get stressed. Stress implies an instinct against danger. You have no such thing.
I sighed and flopped back on the medical bunk that was starting to feel like home. “Well, poke away, then,” I said. “But you can’t keep me here forever.”
Hyrek responded by jabbing the needle back into my arm with a vindictiveness that was not medically necessary.
It would probably have been easier to convince him to let me go if the floating bug things weren’t still hanging around. I was no longer seeing huge hordes of them like back in the cargo bay, but ever since Hyrek had dragged me away, they seemed to be staying close. Sometimes it was just
one dancing along the ceiling. Other times there were dozens floating lazily in the air like tiny glowing jellyfish. No matter how many there were, though, none of them ever got closer to me than arm’s length. For my part, I was trying my best to ignore them, but it’s really hard not to look at things that glow and move.
Every time my eyes darted to something that wasn’t there, Hyrek would glare at me like I’d just proved him right, but he was overruled in the end. The captain had wrapped up his business in Io5, which meant we were back in flight, and since our only other security guard had been on the job for less than a day, there was no choice but to put me back to work, though not before Caldswell himself came down to look me over.
He talked with Hyrek while I got back into my armor. The little glowing bugs must have liked the captain, because he’d gathered a fine swarm of them by the time he sent the lizard away. Once Hyrek was out of the room, the captain took a seat on the examining table and leaned back, resting his weight on his palms. “You’re not cracking on us, are you, Morris?”
I’d been so busy watching what looked like a little glowing puffball float back and forth through the captain’s chest that I almost missed the question. “No sir,” I said, putting my helmet on with less grace than usual. When my cameras kicked on, the glowing bugs vanished, and I breathed a silent sigh of relief.
“No sir,” I said again. “I am perfectly capable of doing my job.”
The captain leaned forward again, rubbing his hands over his face. Now that the bugs were gone, or at least hidden by my cameras, I could look at the captain without distraction. What I saw was disconcerting. I was the one who’d fallen asleep randomly, but Caldswell seemed like he needed to be in the medbay more than I did. The man looked ready to fall over from exhaustion.
“There’s no shame in admitting you have a problem,” Caldswell said quietly when he finally dropped his hands. “If you want to tell me anything off the record, now would be the time.”