by Eve Langlais
“The latmevilium is more than just metal. When the first prophet found it, he heard a voice,” Zak recited. “And he took unto himself the first gear, curing his injury and receiving the word of our gods.”
She snickered even as her blood chilled. “The metal speaks?”
Ray nudged Zak. “’Course not. That’s crazy.” A rebuttal that she knew as a lie.
The Siyborgh knew about the sentient cogs.
“Tell me more of the temples.”
“Not much to tell.” Zak cast a wary glance at Ray before speaking. “The first one was found on our planet a few generations ago, and since then, we’ve uncovered a few others.”
“And this is where you get your metal?”
“Not just any metal. The gears we take into our flesh are specially formed to achieve a specific upgrade.”
“Like?” she asked.
“Strength.” Ray flexed, and while well-shaped, she saw no real difference between his adapted arm and a non-upgraded one.
“Smarts.” Zak tapped his head.
“Can you imagine if he didn’t have a cog up there?” Ray taunted.
“Are all your parts from ancient temples?”
Zak shook his head. “We have Tinqqers who can create new ones, but only if we bring them the right kind of latmevilium.”
“What’s the right kind?”
“I think we’ve answered enough questions,” Ray interrupted.
“Except the most important one of all. Why?”
“Spoken by someone who obviously doesn’t know about the good gears can do. The discovery that our people could mesh with metal changed the course of history. We cured disease. Improved our abilities. Extended our lifespans.”
“Inserted tainted objects into your body.”
“What makes you think they’re tainted?” Ray asked. “We are better than before.”
“How can you be sure?” she asked. “My planet recently had the misfortune of coming across one of your so-called gears. It tried to adhere itself to an unwilling host.” Even now, she shuddered to recall how it whispered and tried to attach itself to her flesh.
“Do you still have it?” Zak asked, his expression eager.
“We destroyed it as soon as we realized the danger. Just like you should eradicate any of the perverse metal your kind has found.”
“I don’t need a lecture on my choice of lifestyle,” Ray growled. “You don’t approve of mecha upgrades, that’s fine. No one’s offering you any parts.”
“But you expect me to find some and obliquely contribute to the downfall of your species, and perhaps even the annihilation of entire civilizations should the taint proliferate.”
“I thought you couldn’t see the future,” Ray retorted.
“One doesn’t need prescience to realize what you’re doing won’t end well.”
“Our people have been upgrading for several generations now. Your prediction of doom and gloom is unfounded.”
“Is it? You are obsessed with the location of more of the sentient metal parts. Your behavior is reminiscent of an addiction.”
“You can’t compare it to a drug,” Zak exclaimed.
It was Ray who said, his tone quite thoughtful, “She does have a point. It’s like gambling. You do it, despite not needing it. Thrilled with the high, but it never lasts. Before long, you’re craving again.”
“Addiction implies there’s harm involved. Who’s getting hurt?” Zak spread his hands. “I’m happy and healthy. I think of gear hunting more as a hobby.”
“A hobby that kills.”
“How do you figure?” Zak asked.
“Need I remind you a space station exploded? With people on board.”
A wince pulled his lips. “An accident. These things happen in space.”
“And more often around you and your friend, I’ll wager.” Her lips curved into a slight smile.
“Just a bit.” Zak held two fingers close together.
“The Mecha Gods love us and keep us safe,” Ray added. “We should have been dead a few times over, but our gears saved us.”
“Mecha Gods?” she asked with a frown. This wasn’t the first time they’d mentioned them.
Ray explained. “Those who built the mighty temples and left the cogs behind for us to find. Their bodies were found encased in hydrargyrum. But scanning them showed the gears they’d placed in their bodies. We couldn’t access those without destroying them, but the temples luckily had others.”
The explanation continued with Zak. “The first Mecha Temple was discovered by intrepid explorer and archeologist, Jool Ius’verrn. He discovered the holy word of the Mecha Gods and wrote it down, creating a bible with the wisdom to guide us toward upgraded perfection.”
She blinked at them. “Because of some bodies and artifacts found in an abandoned building, your people formed a religion?”
Zak grinned. “When you say it like that—”
“It sounds insane,” Ray grumbled.
Because it was a little crazy. The Siyborgh had literally allowed something utterly alien to guide them. It seemed the High Lady of the Lake was correct in sending Nema to seek out more instances of the oddly imbued metal. It was more prevalent than they’d thought. But what kind of danger did the tainted sentience pose to the Lake?
Turning from their divine belief, she questioned them further. “How many are on this ship?”
“Why do you care?” Ray asked while Zak regarded her through hooded eyes.
He no longer wore the fancy coat with all the pockets, or the goggles atop the hat on his head. Snug britches hugged the strong lines of his thighs and were tucked into heavy looking boots. A billowy shirt with a V-neck was tucked into his pants. He didn’t appear to bear any weapons, but she knew appearances could deceive. She presented as benign, too.
“I’m going to guess at least the pair of you, along with your mates, perhaps?” she tossed casually.
“Not married,” Zak replied.
“You are lovers?” A glance between the men showed them sporting dropped jaws.
“Friends only.” Hotly retorted by Zak.
“If you say so,” she replied dismissively. “I am going to assume neither of you is a parent?” They had much too casual an attitude.
“Not that I know of. Do you have a husband or any children?” Zak questioned back.
“No, to my mother’s chagrin.”
“And she’ll probably worry if she hears about the explosion at the Obsidian Market. Give me a signal frequency and we’ll contact her.”
At that, she snorted. “I am not dense. You’re trying to discern my origin.”
“You already admitted you’re not Siyborgh, and you’re too knowledgeable to be a barbarian from Earth.”
“I’m an Avhallonnian.”
Ray frowned. “I don’t think I’ve heard of your people.”
“Because we prefer to stay out of the politics of others. Our galaxy has the Murlyn Asteroid Belt to keep us safe from unneeded attention.”
“Is your world nice?” Ray asked.
“Very. Unlike some of the planets I’ve been learning about, which are overrun with pollution, my world is lush and beautiful. My people have found a way to live in harmony with nature and each other.” Mostly true. A handmaiden’s job was to ensure that peace.
“If it’s so awesome, why did you leave?”
“There’s a threat to my world.”
“What kind of threat?”
How much could she admit? The realization that the tainted metal gears weren’t just flukes but part of a religion, and one with active followers, meant she didn’t know if she could trust Zak and Ray.
She’d read too many histories as they related to religious fanatics. They all had one common thread: Wars started over the smallest insult to belief.
What would Ray or Zak say if they knew she was hunting the sentient metal, latmevilium as they called it, with intent to destroy it?
“It’s a virus,” she said, keepin
g somewhat to the truth. “We don’t know how contagious it is, but if it spreads to our world, it could destroy everything. I need to find a way to stop it before it reaches our planet.”
“If it hasn’t infected yet, then how do you know about it?” Zak asked.
Ray waved his hands and shook his head. “Hold on, I think the more important question should be, is she a carrier?”
Both Zak and Ray eyed her.
“I’m not the one infected.” She glared at them.
“Says you.”
“This is useless,” Ray snapped. “We should dump her on the nearest planet or space station. She can’t read the future, not to mention she might be carrying the plague.”
“She’s not sick,” Zak muttered. “And neither are we.”
Oddly enough, they did seem fine. Perhaps only some of the gears they collected held the taint she’d felt. If that were true, then it might not be as big a problem as she’d feared.
But how to get close enough to some of their mecha parts without giving herself away? Glancing between the men, their virility too much for the small room, she could easily think of a way to test some theories. Which one, though, would prove most receptive?
“What if I were to agree with Zak’s request?” She rose from her seat and stepped toward him slowly, noting how Ray’s hand dropped to the grip of his gun.
“What request?” Zak asked, sounding startled, which perhaps had to do with the finger she drew down his arm once she got within reach. She stood close to him and stared up at his square chin before she met his gaze.
Such lovely eyes he had. “You said something about working together.” She practically purred the words. “Help me, and I’ll help you.”
Ray shattered the moment. “How? Because I’m still trying to figure out exactly what you can offer. We’re not the ones without a ship.”
“Very true, which is why I accept the offer of transportation in return for my aid.”
“You’ll find us a temple?” Zak asked.
“I’ll try.” After all, in this they shared common purpose. They wanted more gears. She needed to inspect some of them. Find out more about the sentience in the metal. Trace it to its origin and then…
Save us.
She could hear the phantom demand of the Lake, but this far from the source, it wasn’t a driving imperative. A good thing or she might have had to do something about Zak and his friend Ray.
“How are you going to locate a temple?” the skeptical Ray asked. “You’ve admitted to not being able to see the past or future. And if we’ve not managed to find one, I don’t see how you can.”
“By communicating with the source.” As distasteful as she found it. “Do you have a spare cog that I might touch? Or something from one of those temples you’re looking for? Not a copy. I need something that links to its past.”
“I don’t see how a gear is supposed to help you. There are no maps or coordinates etched on them.”
“I have other ways.”
“Like?”
“It’s complicated to explain.”
“Try,” Ray growled.
She knew one answer that would shut him up. So, sounding much aggrieved, she huffed, “It talks to me.”
“Talks?” Ray said with a snort.
Nema shrugged. “The one I encountered before did. They are sentient, correct?”
“Yes. Although I never knew they could communicate.” Zak rubbed his chin.
Interesting. Did they not hear the metal? He’d claimed their first prophet had. Could be only a chosen few could understand it clearly.
“This is crazy,” Ray muttered. “She runs into one cog and now claims she can talk to them in spite of the fact we actually wear them and have never heard a peep.”
Zak laughed. “Crazy is par for the course. And she wouldn’t be the first to claim they speak.”
“Yeah, and those people are locked away for their own safety,” Ray reminded.
“Make up your mind. You ask me to help you. I say yes, and now you’re arguing about the method. Do you want me to find a temple or not?” Nema snapped.
“Yes.”
“No.”
Opposing replies that resulted in the males eying each other. Despite not hearing a thing, Nema would have sworn they had a conversation. It ended when Zak nodded while Ray sighed.
“I’ll grab the cog in the safe for you to fondle, but while I’m gone, she needs to sit in that chair.” He pointed. “And you need to stand by the door.”
She bit her lip lest she giggle as Ray yanked his friend away. She returned to the chair and sat with her legs crossed.
“I can handle her,” Zak grumbled.
A challenge. How kind.
“I’ll be right back.” Ray exited, leaving her alone with Zak.
She uncrossed her legs, and spread them a bit, drawing his gaze. “Exactly how would you handle me?”
“Uh.” He blinked and looked as if he’d speak, but nothing came out.
She stood quickly, and still he didn’t move. She drew close and stared at him. His mouth.
“You’re supposed to sit in the chair,” he said.
Instead she raised her gaze to lock with his. “Are you afraid of me?”
“Yes.” He chuckled, a touch nervous. “I shouldn’t be. You’re unarmed.”
“And much smaller than you, too. Surely you can handle me.” She gave it an inflection.
“You’re a troublemaker,” he declared.
“And here I thought I was the model prisoner.”
“Guest.”
“If I am a guest, what will you do to make me feel welcome?” She leaned up on tiptoe to brush the heat of her last words over his jaw.
“Why, baby, are you trying to seduce me?”
“Can you be seduced?” She ran a finger down the middle of his chest, dragging it over the fabric, the movement only hesitating a moment as she felt an odd outline under his flesh. More metal.
“Kiss me and find out.”
She moved closer and put her arms around him, knowing she had little time. “What if I want more than a kiss?”
He angled enough to bring his mouth a hairsbreadth from hers. “Are you angling for a spanking? Because that’s what would have happened if you’d actually taken my knife.” Before he stopped speaking, he grabbed her wrist and held it.
Her lips quirked. “What makes you think I wasn’t grabbing for something else?”
“Because my butt isn’t by my hip, and neither is my rod.”
“What the frukx did I tell you about letting her get close?” Ray’s annoyance hit them as he returned.
Zak didn’t move. “Your timing blows asteroids.”
“On the contrary, I think I’m just in time.” Ray shoved them apart and stalked to the wall, slapping on it to pop out a suspended table. He slammed a box down on it.
“You wanted an old cog. Here is one.”
She eyed the box, the size of a fist, made of wood. She approached and fingered the lid, feeling nothing, not even a tingle. She slid it open and noticed a bed of fabric inside. Nestled in the softness, a gear. With a great big crack running through it.
“It’s broken.”
“Yes, unfortunately. We bought it at the market before it blew up.” Ray plucked it from the box, showing no qualms about handling it. “It’s worthless as an upgrade now, but a Tinqqer might pay a decent price if it’s etched with something new. Or we can recycle it and hope it wakes.”
“Recycle? Once it’s dead, doesn’t it remain that way?”
“Not always. It’s some kind of science thing. They make a new gear and then place it with some old ones. Sometimes, if they’re lucky, the gears wake.”
“And if they don’t?”
“Then they become something else.”
“Is cracking it enough to ruin the sentience within?” she asked, reaching for it.
She didn’t hear his reply because, as her hand closed around the cog, she was hit by a series of images.
So many all at once. Mostly symbols, spheres with different markings. Then star systems, the glistening points branding themselves on her brain.
And through it all a warble that increased in intensity until it was practically a scream that rang the inside of her skull. She snapped open her eyes to see Ray staring at her.
“Are you okay?”
She stared down at the metal, the warmth of it heating her skin. Unlike the one she’d found on her planet, it didn’t make her nauseous or afraid. More, sad. “It’s not dead.” But not truly alive either. It felt more trapped than anything else.
“How can you tell?” Zak held out his hand, and she felt a reluctance to hand it over. Her fingers almost closed over it, startling her enough that she practically threw it at him.
“Can’t you feel it? Its frustration and—"
“Despair?” The word left Zak’s lips on a note of surprise.
“What are you talking about?” Ray barked. He snared the cog and fisted it. “Feels like a lump of regular metal to me.”
“On account you’re not sensitive like me.” Zak winked at her as he taunted Ray. “Hand it back to someone who understands it.”
“Do you see images when you hold it?”
“No. Do you?” Zak countered.
How much to admit? Ray claimed he couldn’t feel it. Zak did, but was that a lie to get her to reveal more? She might need to give a little to gain. “I see images when I’m touching it.”
“What kind?” Zak asked.
“Places mostly.”
That drew even Ray’s attention.
“Do you know those places? Would it help if you held it again?” He offered it, and she waved her hands in the negative.
“Not right now.” Maybe never again. There was something familiar and yet completely alien about its touch.
“Can you find a temple with it?” Zak asked.
She rubbed her temple. It throbbed, and her ears rang still with that ghostly scream. “Maybe. I saw a bunch of things. But it’s murky. Hard to pinpoint.” She said more than she meant to, and while Zak appeared open, Ray remained skeptical.
“Would a crystal ball help? Maybe a bit of colored smoke. Some chains or recordings of moans. Perhaps some foam you can drool out to simulate possession.”
She eyed Ray. “You think I’m lying.”
“I think you’re spinning a tale in order to get Zak to give you what you want.”