Starsight

by Brandon Sanderson

  I pulled my pack closer, sweating as I trailed behind Vapor’s sharp lemon scent. We approached a sleek-looking shuttle. The door opened.

  Cuna, shrouded in dark robes, sat inside.

  “Alanik,” they said. “I believe we have some matters to discuss.”

  I glanced back at the rest of my flight. They were all getting in line to be searched. Morriumur had turned toward me, head cocked. Other guards were approaching me, one pointing.

  I only had one option. I climbed into the shuttle with Cuna.

  I clutched the pack to my chest as the door closed, and I was struck again by the overwhelming scent of lemons, which then shifted slowly to cinnamon. The two guards made it to the door, and one rapped on the shuttle window. Cuna pressed a button on a control panel, and the window descended.

  “Minister Cuna?” one asked. “We’re supposed to search everyone.”

  “I doubt those orders include heads of departments, soldier,” Cuna said, then hit the button again, closing the window. They gestured to the pilot.

  The shuttle took off, then left the bay, flying toward the city proper. The moment we got outside of the Weights and Measures, a chipper voice spoke in my ear.

  “Spensa?” M-Bot said. “How did it go? Did the drone work? I can sense its signal with you. You recovered it?”

  I tapped out on my bracelet, Not now.

  Cuna laced their fingers, then finally made a relieved gesture with two of them. “No call to return,” they said. “We’re in luck. My authority was enough to not be questioned.” Then they held out their hand, waving for me to surrender the pack.

  I refused, pulling it closer.

  “Vapor?” Cuna asked.

  “It’s a drone,” said the familiar disembodied voice. “She was actually quite clever in how she retrieved it, as she shot off its weapon first. It will be days before anyone puts together that the remaining debris only includes pieces of a destructor pistol.”

  I tried glaring at Vapor, which was hard because I didn’t exactly know where she was.

  Cuna reached into their pocket and unfolded a sheet of paper. They held it out to me—and I narrowed my eyes, regarding it with suspicion. Finally, I took one careful hand off my pack and accepted the paper.

  “What does it say?” M-Bot asked. “Spensa, I’m having trouble following this conversation.”

  I didn’t dare respond to him as I pulled off my pin and held it to the paper, getting a translation. It was…a list of communications? The short messages were dated in order, starting about a week ago.

  1001.17: Minister Cuna, while we respect your willingness to communicate—and acknowledge the relative strength of the Superiority—we cannot release private information about our messenger.

  1001.23: After continued analysis of the brief messages sent to us via our emissary, Alanik, we of the Unity of UrDail are concerned for her safety. We have no plans to send further pilots to you.

  1001.28: After continued suspicion concerning our messenger’s safety, we must cut off communication with you and the Superiority until such time as she returns to us.

  A cold chill ran down my spine. Cuna was in communication with the people on Alanik’s home planet. M-Bot and I had talked to them a few times after our first message, trying to play for time. It looked like they’d decided to step away from the problem entirely by ignoring us both.

  “Your people are obviously stalling for you,” Cuna said. “I can see it clearly now. The UrDail never intended to join the Superiority, did they? You are a spy, sent here exclusively to steal hyperdrive technology.”

  It took a moment for that to sink in.

  Cuna didn’t know I was human.

  They thought I was a spy for Alanik’s people. And scud, it sure did look like that, from Cuna’s perspective.

  “What I can’t figure out,” Cuna said, “is why you would risk so much, considering that you already obviously know the secret. Clearly, your people know not just how to use a cytonic like you as a hyperdrive, but have created a secondary method. The same one we use.”

  What? I opened my mouth to say I had no idea what Cuna was talking about, but then—for once in my life—thought before I spoke. For some reason, Cuna thought I already had the secret. So…why not play along? I might not have trained for this, but I was the one who was here. And my people needed me to be more than I’d been before.

  “We couldn’t be sure that your methods were the same as ours,” I said. “We thought it worth the risk, particularly once we realized I would have a chance to infiltrate Superiority warships and secret projects.”

  “You have been playing me all along,” Cuna said. “You now know about the weapon, the location of our training maze…the infighting among our departments. I would be impressed if I weren’t so angry.”

  The wisest choice on my part seemed to be silence. Outside the window, we passed into a part of town with grand buildings, built with domes and large gardens. The government quarter? I was pretty sure that was where we were.

  The shuttle landed beside a large rectangular building—one with few windows. More austere and grim than the others nearby.

  Cuna held out their hand again toward my pack. I realized that I didn’t have much choice. I was unarmed and in their power. The only thing I had going for me was the fact that Cuna, remarkably, thought that I knew what I was doing.

  I held up the pack. “I don’t need it anymore,” I said. “This conversation was confirmation enough.”

  Cuna took it anyway, then fished out the drone and looked it over. “One of our own,” they said. “A modified cleaning drone? These are impressive security devices attached to it. I didn’t know your people had access to this kind of technology.”

  Cuna looked toward the place where Vapor hung.

  “That looks like figment technology,” Vapor said softly. “The kind that was forbidden us after the war. I’ve…seen old ships with those markings on them.”

  Figment technology? M-Bot? I said nothing—though my heart skipped a beat when Cuna fished in the shuttle armrest for a cord, then connected the drone’s memory to a monitor on the back of the seat in front of us.

  Trying to keep my voice calm, I spoke. “Drone, authorize playback of video starting from the moment I turned you on.”

  “Confirmed,” the drone said.

  “AI?” Cuna asked, baring their teeth in a look of shock.

  “Not self-aware AI,” I said quickly. “Just a basic program that can follow orders.”

  “Still! So dangerous.”

  The screen turned on, displaying a view of me, wearing Alanik’s face, in the stall of the bathroom.

  “Fast forward,” I said, “until two minutes before the hyperjump back to Starsight.”

  “Confirmed.”

  I waited, hands clenching, as the view changed to what had to be the engine room. It looked surprisingly like an office—no hyperdrive apparatus that I could spot, only chairs and monitors with diones in uniforms working them.

  I eyed Cuna. Were they really just going to let this play? My heartbeat increased as audio sounded from the recording.

  “All pilots are on board and personnel secured,” Winzik’s voice said over the room’s PA. “Engineering, you may proceed with the hyperjump back to Starsight regional space.”

  “Understood,” said one of the diones on the screen. A crimson, somewhat chubby individual. “Preparing for hyperjump.”

  They hit a button. Nothing happened. Elsewhere, at that moment, I had been straining to use my cytonic senses to interfere. It was surreal, watching what had been happening a few rooms over from where I’d been waiting.

  Several of the diones looked agitated, speaking softly to one another. The chubby one hit the comm button. “Bridge, we have another hyperdrive malfunction. It’s those cytonics on board. They’re c
reating an unconscious interference with the hyperdrives.”

  Another dione got up and walked to the wall. They opened a hatch there and pulled something out. I leaned forward, my breath catching as I saw what they removed.

  A metal cage, and inside of it, a bright yellow slug with blue spines.

  A slug. Scud. SCUD.

  It made so much sense. The entry about Doomslug’s species on the datanet…it had said they were dangerous. That was a lie—the Superiority just wanted to make certain that if anyone saw one, they’d think it venomous and stay away.

  Report any sightings to authorities immediately.

  “Try a replacement?” a voice said on the recording.

  “Spensa?” M-Bot said in my ear. “What is going on?”

  “Loading one now. Can we do something about this? It causes so much paperwork.”

  The diones removed the “hyperdrive” from a unit beside the wall. It was another slug, just like Doomslug. They slid the new one in and activated the hyperdrive. This time it worked.

  I could almost hear that scream in my mind again. The high-pitched wail…The scream of the hyperdrive. Made by the creatures they were using to teleport.

  “Drone, end video,” I whispered. I’d been expecting something horrific, like the surgically removed brains of cytonics. But…why should sapient beings be the only ones to have these powers? Didn’t it make sense that some other creatures might develop a means of teleporting through the nowhere?

  I thought of all the times I’d found Doomslug in places where I didn’t expect her—all the times I’d noted in passing that I rarely saw her move, but that she always seemed to be able to go places quickly when I wasn’t looking.

  Then, one final understanding came crashing down on me. A seemingly simple phrase from the datanet entry. Often found near species of fungi.

  M-Bot. When he had awoken, one of the only things he’d had in his data banks was an open table for cataloging local types of mushrooms. He’d fixated on it, knowing it was important, but not why.

  His pilot had been looking for hyperdrive slugs.

  “How?” I asked Cuna, trying to cover up my shock at all this. “How did you know I had a hyperdrive slug?”

  “I followed you,” Vapor said, making me jump. I still sometimes forgot she was around. “When you went out with Morriumur that day in the water garden.”

  Doomslug had met me at the door that day. Scud, she’d been acting so strange and lethargic since we’d arrived. Was that because Starsight’s cytonic inhibitors interfered with her powers?

  Cuna unplugged the drone, then placed it back into my pack. Then they laced their fingers, watching me with a thoughtful alien expression. “This causes problems,” they said. “Beyond anything you likely understand. I had hopes…” They made a dismissive gesture, then opened the door to the shuttle. “Come.”

  “Where?” I said, suspicious.

  “I want to show you exactly what the Superiority is, Alanik,” Cuna said, taking my backpack and climbing out.

  I didn’t trust that dark expression, marked by a creepy smile. I waited behind, smelling cinnamon.

  “You can trust them, Alanik,” Vapor told me.

  “Of course you’d say that,” I replied. “But can I trust you?”

  “I haven’t told anyone what you really are, have I?” she whispered.

  I looked sharply toward the empty space where she resided. Finally, feeling overwhelmed, I climbed out.

  “Cuna,” Vapor said loudly from behind me, “do you need me any longer?”

  “No. You can return to your main mission.”

  “Affirmative,” she said, and the shuttle door closed.

  Cuna started toward the building without waiting to see if I’d follow. Why turn their back on me? What if I were dangerous? I hurried up beside them.

  “I wasn’t Vapor’s main mission?” I asked, nodding back toward the shuttle as it took off.

  “You were a stroke of luck,” Cuna said. “She’s actually there to watch Winzik.” Cuna reached the door, which had a window and a security guard inside. They nodded to Cuna, but then bared their teeth in a dione scowl at me.

  “I bring this one with me, by my authority,” Cuna said.

  “I’ll need to note it, Minister. It’s very unusual.”

  Cuna waited for them to do some paperwork. I took the chance to tap a short message on my bracelet. M-Bot. Still read me?

  “Yes,” he said in my ear. “But I’m very confused.”

  Doomslug is hyperdrive. If I die, get to Detritus. Tell them.

  “What?” M-Bot said. “Spensa, I can’t do that!”

  Heroes don’t choose their trials.

  “I can’t even fly myself, let alone hyperjump!”

  Slug is hyperdrive.

  “But…”

  The guard finally opened the door. I stepped into the building after Cuna, and—as I’d worried from its fortresslike exterior—it had shielding to prevent spying, so M-Bot’s voice vanished.

  The hallway inside was empty of people, and Cuna’s footwear clicked on the floor as we walked to a door marked OBSERVATION ROOM. Inside was a small chamber with a glass wall overlooking a larger room, two stories tall, with metal walls. I stepped up to the window, noting the markings on several of the walls.

  That strange language, I thought. The same one I saw in the delver maze—and in the tunnels back on Detritus.

  Cuna settled down in a chair near the glass window, placing my backpack beside the seat. I remained standing.

  “You have the power to destroy us,” Cuna said softly. “Winzik worries about delvers, politicians argue about pockets of aggressive aliens, but I have always worried about a danger more nefarious. Our own shortsightedness.”

  I frowned, looking at them.

  “We couldn’t keep the secret of the hyperdrive forever,” Cuna said. “In truth, it shouldn’t have outlasted the human wars. We endured a dozen close calls when the secret started to leak. Our stranglehold on interstellar communication was always enough, just barely, to keep the truth contained.”

  “You won’t keep this secret much longer,” I said. “It’s going to get out.”

  “I know,” Cuna said. “Haven’t you been listening?” They nodded toward the window.

  A set of doors down below opened, and a pair of diones entered, pulling someone by the arms. I…I recognized them. It was Gul’zah the burl—the gorilla alien who had been kicked out of the pilot program way back after the test, then had been protesting against the Superiority.

  “I heard that the Superiority made a deal with the protesters!” I said.

  “Winzik was called in to handle the issue,” Cuna replied. “His department has been gaining too much authority. He claims to have negotiated a deal where the dissidents turned over their leader. I can’t track any longer how much of what he says is true and how much is false.”

  Those diones, I thought, noting the brown-striped clothing they wore. I saw some like them cleaning up after the protesters vanished.

  “This burl has been in custody since then,” Cuna said, nodding to Gul’zah. “Some fear that the incident on the Weights and Measures today was caused by revolutionaries. So the exile has been moved up. And I have little doubt that Winzik will seek other ways to use your attack on us to further his goals.”

  Below, one of the dione technicians typed on a console at the side of the room. The center of the room shimmered, and then something appeared—a black sphere the size of a person’s head. It seemed to suck all light into it as it floated there. It was pure darkness. An absolute blackness that I knew intimately.

  The nowhere. Somehow, they had opened up a hole into the nowhere.

  The kitsen had mentioned to me that the Superiority—and the human empires as well—had mined acclivity stone from th
e nowhere. I knew they had portals into the place. But still, seeing that dark sphere affected me on a primal level. That was a darkness that should not exist, a darkness beyond the mere lack of light. A wrongness.

  They lived in there.

  I suspected what would come next, but was still horrified when it happened. The guards took the struggling prisoner and forced their face to touch the dark sphere. The protester began to stretch, then was absorbed into the darkness.

  The technician collapsed the sphere. As everyone left, I spun on Cuna. “Why?” I demanded. “Why show me this?”

  “Because,” Cuna said, “before your stunt today, you were my best hope at stopping this abomination.”

  “You seriously expect me to believe that a Superiority official cares what happens to ‘lesser species’?” I spat the words, perhaps too fervently. I should have been political, kept my emotions in check, tried to get Cuna to talk.

  But I was mad. Furious. I’d just been forced to watch an exile, maybe even an execution. I was mad at myself for getting caught, frustrated to finally know the secret to hyperdrives—to be so close to bringing the secret back to my people—only to be threatened by Cuna. That was why they’d brought me here, of course. To warn me what awaited me if I didn’t obey.

  Cuna stood up. I was short compared to average humans, so Cuna towered over me as they walked to the glass, then rested a blue hand against it. “You think of us as being of one mind,” they said. “Which is the exact flaw held by many in the Superiority itself. Presumption.

  “You may choose not to believe it, Alanik, but my entire purpose has been to change the way my people view other species. Once the secret of hyperdrives escapes our grasp, we will need something new to keep us together. We won’t be able to rely on our monopoly on travel. We need to be able to offer something else.”

  Cuna turned toward me and smiled. That same creepy, off-putting smile. This time it struck me, and I realized something.