Dreams of the Damned

by Lindsey Sparks

  Hades caught my eye. “I assume you're heading down to the mainframe?”

  I nodded. Assuming this settlement’s power core was still in place—and still functioning—I could run a search of the settlement’s inventory from down there and find out definitively if there was an ark ship here. Plus, it wouldn’t hurt to get our hands on another power core.

  Hades and Raiden headed for the door that would lead them into the central tower, where they could descend to sand level before crossing over to the Genetec building.

  I turned and climbed back up the steps to check on Fiona, who was still sitting on a stair at the base of the gephyra. “How are you doing?”

  “Bleh . . .” She raised her head, laughing miserably. “Motion sickness is the worst. All I did was walk through a big silver blob to another planet. I didn’t even get in a flying freaking saucer. I just”—she walked her fingers over her knee—“walked.”

  I patted her shoulder. “It should get easier,” I said, crossing my index and middle fingers, just for a second.

  Fiona blew out a breath. “Something to look forward to . . .”

  I flashed her a conciliatory smile and held out my hand to help her to her feet. Once she was up and seemed stable, I started toward the door Hades and Raiden had used. The interior of the building was nearly identical to the central tower in the Alpha site, down to the endless administrative floors and the staircase spiraling around the glass-encased lift at the heart of the building. When we approached the lift, the door slid open, and I grinned. If the lift worked, the city had power—either a functioning power core or an actual chaos stone. The latter, I doubted, considering Hades had likely already scanned for all traces of chaos energy. But a power core was still a great prize.

  We rode the lift down to the sublevel and made our way into the mainframe chamber. I held my breath as we approached the column in the center of the space, a part of me still hoping to find another chaos stone. I slid the panel in the column open and exhaled my disappointment. No chaos stone. Just a power core.

  Hands on my hips, I stared at the humming power core and chewed on the inside of my cheek. Any chaos stone that may have been here was long gone, probably stolen by the Tsakali or used to power a ship carrying the people fleeing from this planet.

  Eyes narrowed, I scanned the area around us, then turned to face my mom and Fiona. “Look around, check every nook and cranny—there might be a containment box hidden down here, like the one we used to hold the chaos stone back on Earth.”

  While they searched, I activated the master control console nearby. A large holoscreen popped up above the console, and I raised a hand to swipe across the floating screen to move through several menus and submenus until I reached the inventory section. I narrowed it down to the transportation sector and scrolled through the types of ships assigned to this planet. The name of this colony’s ark ship, the Asphodel, was grayed out, indicating that it was currently off-world. Disappointing, but not necessarily surprising. I checked the logs to find out how long ago the ship had left, and why—purely for curiosity’s sake. That knowledge wouldn’t help us with our current predicament, but it would tell me more about why the settlers had abandoned this colony.

  According to the logs, the Asphodel had departed nearly fifteen thousand Olympian years ago, translating to a little over twelve thousand Earth years. It matched up with the timeline of when we lost contact with the other colonies. Apparently, the settlers here had left after detecting Tsakali scouts within their star system. A note from the colony’s Imperial scion, Aphrodite, to any Olympians who ventured here after their departure let me know that volunteers had remained behind to destroy all information and tech relating to the creation of chaos stones.

  I glanced at the humming power core tucked away in its little recess in the column nearby. It was in good shape, unlike the power core in the Alpha site back on Earth. I supposed that was due to the arid conditions here.

  With a sigh, I shut down the holoscreen and headed back over to the column. I placed a hand on my hip and stared at the power core. “I ran a search. No ship, but the power core is in decent shape,” I said over the comms patch. “Hades, how about you?”

  “I've taken the storage drive containing all of their research and a few replacement parts for the Omega site,” Hades informed me, “but a few things are missing.”

  “Probably taken on the ark ship when they fled,” I grumbled.

  “Ah. Yes, that is likely,” he said. “A preliminary scan of their research suggests they made some headway with preventing cloning disease, though they made no discernable headway regarding the nano-virus.”

  I tilted my head to the side, considering the new information. “That’s better than nothing, I suppose.”

  “Indeed, it is,” he agreed. “We're heading back to the gephyra now.”

  “Sounds good,” I said, eyeing the power core. “Do you want the power core?”

  “If it's not too much trouble . . .”

  I groaned inwardly, thinking about climbing all those stairs to the top of the tower carrying the power core. Those things weren’t light. “No trouble at all,” I told him, sheathing my doru and reaching into the column. I gripped either side of the power core and said, “Removing the power core now.” With a grunt, I yanked the core free and lifted it out of the column. “Sorry guys, looks like we’ll all be taking the stairs back up.”

  Fiona groaned through the comms patch, and the sound became audible to my ears as she trudged back into view. “You couldn’t have let us ride the lift up first?”

  I snorted and shook my head, tucking the power core under my arm like a lead football. “Misery loves company,” I told her, then led the way back to the lift—and the stairway that spiraled around it.

  My mom, Fiona, and I traded off carrying the power core up the first fifteen floors, at which point Hades and Raiden caught up to us. The guys took their turns, but eventually, the power core ended up back in my arms. I was carrying it when we emerged onto the roof of the central tower and quickly delivered it through the gephyra to Earth.

  As soon as I returned, Hades shut down the active bridge and input the coordinates to our next destination. The gephyra hummed, the rings spun, and the quicksilver orb that marked the opening of a new bridge formed. But it winked out before Hades could even guide the scouting drone across the gleaming barrier.

  I looked at him, my eyes narrowing. “What the hell was that?”

  “I’m not sure,” Hades said before ducking his head back into the bowels of the gephyra. He established the bridge again, but the same thing happened almost immediately.

  I moved closer to him, crouching down to peer into the sheltered recess housing the gephyra’s manual controls. “What's the problem?”

  Hades fiddled with the controls. “I'm not sure,” he repeated. “The connection is unstable for some reason.”

  I straightened and planted my hands on my hips, my stare fixing on the gephyra’s rings as they resettled in the platform. “What could cause an unstable connection?”

  Hades stilled for a moment and glanced at me over his shoulder. “Celestial drift, if unaccounted for, but the system's internal programming should self-correct the moment the bridge is established.” He returned to adjusting the gephyra’s complex settings. “It's almost like we're tripping an auto disconnect sequence set up on the other side,” he went on, his voice slightly muffled.

  I frowned, my spidey sense tingling. “Should we move on to the next colony?”

  “I can manually override the other gephyra's ability to control the bridge,” Hades said. “I just need to . . . there. Done.” He emerged from the gephyra’s underbelly and remained on his knees as the golden rings started to spin.

  When the quicksilver orb appeared, I counted to ten, not expecting to make it past seven. When I hit twenty and the bridge was still active, I looked at Hades sidelong. “Is it safe to cross?”

  Hades rose to his feet and used his holoband t
o guide the scouting drone across the bridge. Once the drone vanished, Hades fixed his gaze on me, a faint smirk twisting his lips. “Is traveling through the gephyra ever completely safe?”

  I held his stare for a long moment. “Well, how does it look?” I asked, pointing to the quicksilver orb with my chin.

  Hades checked the readings on the screen of his holoband. “It’s dark—no visual, all the environmental readings fall within the range of acceptable.”

  I climbed the first step, then the second, and drew my doru. I paused to look back at the others. “Wait for my signal,” I reminded them, and then I stepped onto the bridge.

  The world was engulfed in darkness, with periodic flashes of light, and it felt like I was falling. Drowning. Being torn apart. But then I was through to the other side. I jogged down the steps and froze.

  A shimmering yellow energy barrier enclosed the platform, encircled by a dozen Amazon warriors, their dorus charged, the focus crystals aimed at me.

  18

  I was an ice sculpture, frozen by the stares of my spearsisters. Other Amazon warriors. Part of me—most of me—had believed I would never see another Amazon again. Not in the flesh, at least.

  Grappling with shock, my mind slogged through a series of semi-related thoughts. I wasn’t the last of my kind. Hades and I weren’t the last Olympians. We could ask these Amazons for help. Why weren’t they lowering their dorus? Couldn’t they see that I wasn’t their enemy? That I was one of them?

  Slowly, cautiously, I crouched down, setting my doru on the smooth, polished floor. It was some kind of marble, from the looks of it. Just as slowly, I straightened, raising my empty hands in surrender.

  I scanned the sharp, angled Olympian features of the Amazons, searching for familiar faces. I found none.

  “Hades,” I said, keeping my voice low as I spoke to him through the comms patch. “Cross over. The rest of you, stay put.”

  “On my way,” Hades said, not hesitating for a moment.

  Raiden’s voice came immediately after Hades finished speaking. “What is it, Cora?”

  Hades emerged from the gephyra, his presence a comfort in this crazy situation. I felt his mind draw closer as he descended the steps.

  “Olympians,” I told the others. “And not necessarily friendly ones.”

  Hades stopped beside me, and in my peripheral vision, I watched him raise his hands over his head, mimicking my pose of surrender. “Have they said anything?” he asked me, his voice hushed.

  I shook my head the barest amount.

  Without warning, the golden energy barrier vanished, and one of the Amazon warriors surrounding us stepped forward, her doru still trained on me. Her mind was blocked by an impenetrable psychic wall. There was something familiar about her features, though I didn’t recognize her. With her dark hair and hawkish stare, she reminded me a bit of Demeter, which was more than a little unsettling.

  The Amazon’s steps faltered as her focus shifted from me to Hades, and her eyes widened dramatically. “Hades?”

  “Artemis!” Hades exclaimed.

  My mouth fell open.

  I knew of Artemis, if only by reputation. She was Hades’ younger sister and a renowned warrior. Demeter had held the highest rank of Mother among the Order of Amazons on Earth, but Artemis had been the true Amazon leader back on Olympus. She had left years before the Tsakali attacked to establish a secondary homeworld for our people. Hers was the first colony ever settled by Olympians, but it had been lost shortly after the war began. Destroyed by the Tsakali, or so we had thought.

  I dropped to one knee and bowed my head, watching her in my peripheral vision.

  Hades took a step forward but stopped when Artemis shifted her aim from me to him. “Don't move,” she ordered. “I can't let you get too close to me. The risk of infection is too great.”

  At first, I thought she meant that she and her people were infected by something contagious. But Hades connected the dots faster than I did, realizing the opposite was true.

  “You are not infected by the nano-virus?” He said, equal parts statement and question.

  My head snapped up, and I gaped at Artemis. It wasn’t possible. All Olympians were infected by the nano-virus. Period.

  Artemis shook her head. “No, we’re not,” she said gravely. “And we'd like to keep it that way.”

  “The Olympians of this world can truly still reproduce naturally?” Hades clarified.

  Artemis confirmed with a nod.

  “But how?” Bafflement wafted off Hades in waves. “After so long . . .” Hades shook his head. “The Tsakali infected all Olympian worlds. How is this possible?”

  Artemis narrowed her eyes. “How long, exactly?”

  “Sixteen millennia,” Hades told her, speaking in Olympian years. “But surely you would know that, unless . . .” He tilted his head to the side, studying her. “Why is it you are still alive if your people can reproduce naturally? You would have no need of cloning.”

  The corner of Artemis’s mouth lifted in the faintest of smiles. “Ah, but I think you already know the answer to your own question, brother.”

  Hades nodded to himself, and I could feel his astonishment. “You erected a time dilation field around this planet,” he said, his voice filled with awe. “You knew you couldn’t hide from the Tsakali, so instead, you slowed time, hoping the rest of us would find a way to defeat them while you hid away in your little bubble.” There was a sharp edge to his final words, and I felt anger simmering within him, growing stronger the more he thought through the implications of his theory.

  I looked up at him, finding a sneer curling his lips.

  “I never knew you to be a coward, little sister,” Hades said, his stare hardening to a glare.

  “It’s not cowardice to know when to fight, and when to run,” Artemis snapped.

  Tension mounted, causing a rapid unraveling of the situation. If I didn’t grab onto a string of sanity now, I feared there might not be any left to salvage what was left of this miraculous encounter.

  I cleared my throat and stood, drawing the attention of the Amazon warriors encircling us back to me. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mother,” I said, offering Artemis a deep bow. When I straightened, her hawkish stare was fixed on me.

  “Aren't you quite the curiosity,” she said, scrutinizing me from head to toe. “An Amazon, but not an Olympian.”

  I flushed, equal parts offended and ashamed. I couldn’t help the way I looked, but it was clear from the way Artemis was studying me that she found me somehow deficient.

  “She is as Olympian as you or me,” Hades said, coming to my defense.

  Artemis glanced at Hades, but her focus quickly returned to me. “Is she now?” She cocked her head to the side.

  I fought the urge to squirm under her scrutiny.

  “Engineered?” Artemis asked.

  “We altered the appearance of the workers created on board the Tartarus to blend in better with the people of our destination planet,” Hades explained.

  Artemis raised her eyebrows. “And raised one to full-powered Amazon. I had no idea our dear sister was so progressive.”

  I gritted my teeth, quickly tiring of being discussed like I wasn’t even there. Or worse, like I wasn’t a person. Like I was a thing.

  Hades cleared his throat. “Someone may have planted a seed of the idea in her mind . . .”

  I looked at him, stunned by the revelation. But now was not the time to be distracted by the past, and I tucked the matter away in my mind for later and returned my attention to Artemis. “We've come here because the Tsakali are on their way to our world—to Atlantis,” I said, using the Olympian name for Earth. “Our only hope to save our people is to find an ark ship to evacuate those who remain before the Tsakali arrive.” I left out the part where those who remain weren’t actually currently living.

  Artemis stared at me for a long moment, then looked at Hades. “Will you issue a self-destruct on the world?”

  Hades was
quiet for a long moment, but I could feel his commitment to protecting the universe, so I knew his answer before he spoke. “If we must,” he finally said.

  I felt sick to my stomach even considering the possibility of turning Earth into something resembling the first colony we had visited. I wasn’t sure if I could let him do it. The rational part of my mind knew it might have to be done—for the greater good—but the emotional part of me loved that planet and the people who inhabited it, and I couldn’t imagine a single situation where I wouldn’t fight to save Earth.

  “Well then,” Artemis said, “I wish you luck, but I am sorry to tell you that we cannot help you. Our own ark ship must remain here as our last resort, should the Tsakali find us. Now, you must go. Your bridge has shattered the time dilation field, and we cannot reestablish it until the bridge is closed.”

  Hades bowed his head. “We will leave and close the bridge.” He raised his head part of the way, spearing Artemis with his icy stare. “So long as you promise me one thing.”

  Artemis eyed her brother skeptically, “What one thing?”

  “Do you have the ability to create clones here?” Hades asked.

  Artemis nodded.

  “Then we require cloned embryos in individual cryopods,” Hades said. “I will return to pick them up once we've secured an ark ship.”

  I stared at him with widened eyes. This could be our people’s fresh start—new, uninfected bodies. I had no idea how Hades would pull off transferring our people into the new bodies without infecting them with the nano-virus, but clearly, he thought there was a way.

  Artemis considered the request for a long moment. “How many?”

  “As many as you can create in the time between now and when I return,” Hades told her.

  Artemis turned partway, addressing the other Amazons through a psychic link. I could sense the link, if not the information being conveyed upon it. A moment later, one of the warriors spun around and ran off, presumably delivering a message for Artemis.

  Artemis returned her attention to Hades. “You will have your clones. But for now, you must leave.”