Deep Hydra

by Michael Formichelli

  “Of course,” he responded. “We have two ex-Abyssians. He’ll be fine. Like Athame said before, nothing will happen.”

  That’s not exactly what she said, Prospero stated, and that’s not necessarily true.

  Nero rolled his eyes. “By the Will, the two of you… Let’s get moving. I’m eager to stretch my legs in some gravity.”

  Her ears kept twitching as she left the cockpit.

  He looked up to Athame’s amaranthine eyes.

  “As you surmise, we will be fine,” she stated.

  He folded his arms before his chest and nodded.

  Chapter Three

  Solahab Tower, Ikuzlu City, Kosfanter

  J2400:3226

  “What the hell were you thinking?” Cygni ground her teeth, staring at Biren while she fought to contain her anger. “You’re a wanted fugitive. Do you realize what you did?”

  He hooked his thumbs into his belt and leaned back against the cloud-gray wall of her office.

  The gesture infuriated her. “I told you to stay in the back room until he was gone.”

  She watched his eyes drift up from her out across the cityscape beyond. The outer walls were transparent from the inside and afforded them a spectacular view of the Business District, though she doubted that it was the scenery that kept his attention from her. Exasperated, she looked to Giselle for support.

  The woman’s black eyes flickered between them. As a metaqua, a half-VoQuana, Giselle could sense moods and hear the thoughts of those around her through something she called a “bio-magnetic induction.” She could also project thoughts, which was fortunate since she was now limited to that form of communication. Seventeen days ago, during the Abyssian attack on the Gaian Biodome, Praetor-Prime Augusta blew off most of the bottom of Giselle’s face and part of her neck. Modern nanomeds could do a lot, but they couldn’t totally replace obliterated tissue without time spent in reconstructive surgery. After a week in a coma, Giselle was still recovering. She wore a mask to hide the new, blotchy-pink flesh covering the prosthetic bone. A slight hiss from the vented apparatus preceded her coughing several times before she shook her head.

  “Are you sure you want me to intrude on him?” Giselle projected into her mind. She used her fingertips to hook a lock of her platinum-blond hair behind her ear. People were deathly afraid of the VoQuana ability to receive and transmit thoughts, so much so that they had Daedalus confine the VoQuana to their colony planets in indefinite detention. The involuntary nature of telepathy did put a creepy edge on Giselle’s abilities, but Cygni found it wasn’t all that different from the ubiquitous practice of linking cerebral computers to send messages. The longer she spent with her the more comfortable she found herself.

  Don’t intrude, Cygni thought with a sigh. I suppose I can guess at what he’s thinking like everyone else.

  “Don’t be childish.”

  She gave her friend a flat stare.

  “You’re talking about me.” Biren’s voice startled her.

  “I asked you a question.”

  He folded his arms before his chest. “No, you didn’t. It sounded like a question, but it was you berating me.”

  Her mouth hung open for a moment. “Biren, you exposed yourself to an enemy baron. Baron Keltan knows Dorsky’s sheltering fugitive Gaians thanks to you. Do you have any idea of what could happen? How he could use that against us?”

  “He used to be friendly to us. Maybe he still is.”

  “What the hell is this? Have you forgotten everything? He’s been tainted by the VoQuana. For all we know he’s already reported your presence to them and Baron Revenant. You’ve compromised us and Premier Dorsky.”

  “Since when do you care about the Premier?”

  “Since Dorsky’s the only one who can shelter us from both the VoQuana and the Abyssians.” She threw up her hands in frustration. He was right, Baron Keltan’s House used to be allied with the Gaians, but he was attacked during his engagement cruise by Sinuthros—the same VoQuana monster who attacked her in AgroWorlds tower. She had spy-grains in the room when it happened and recorded the whole thing. They still weren’t sure exactly what the VoQuana did to him but taking into account his attitude toward Biren in the audience chamber, she felt the baron made his position clear concerning Gaians.

  Biren waved his hand in the air between them. “We can take care of ourselves, especially now that you’ve got that thing.”

  “Thing?” Her eyes narrowed.

  “That silver-skin thing you have, and with Giselle’s freakish powers—”

  She smacked him across the face hard enough to send spittle flying through the air.

  “We don’t need Premier Dorsky.” He stared at her with fierce eyes.

  “Apologize,” she said in a stern voice.

  “Cygni, it’s all right. He’s upset—”

  “Apologize.” She glared at him.

  “You first.” He stared back with hard, dark eyes. “If it helps any, Giselle, I’m not one to talk. My genetic modifications count as making me freakish, too.”

  “No offense was taken,” she responded.

  “You done?” He licked his lips, breathing hard.

  Cygni ground her teeth before responding. “What’s so special about the heiress? Why did you risk that?”

  The muscles in his face tightened. He looked over her head at the cityscape again. “That’s personal.”

  “You think something that risks all of our lives is personal?” She glared.

  He rolled his eyes again. The gesture only served to stoke the fire of her anger. After everything she did for him both on Minlea IV and at the Biodome…

  “Wake up, Biren. We’re all in this together and everything we do affects everyone else. If Dorsky repeals his promise of protection it’s over for you, me, Giselle, your sister, everyone. Get it? We have a Praetor after us. We won’t survive this by keeping secrets. We won’t survive this by acting on impulse. Your mother acted on impulse and look what that got her.”

  “Cygni!” Giselle shouted in her mind.

  She flinched, the admonishment causing her anger to subside like a tide going out to sea.

  Biren’s expression hardened. He looked about to say something, but shook his head, sending the shells in his dreadlocks clicking.

  “I—that was out of line,” she said in a more sedate tone. “I’m sorry.”

  He stared at her for a long moment, then turned and left her office.

  “Biren—” She watched the door slide shut behind him. The smell of his musk was heavy in the air. “Shit. We needed to talk about what to do.”

  Giselle moved over to the south window and stared out across the city.

  “Don’t you start with this too. I need you.”

  “He loves the Heiress.”

  She frowned. “What?”

  “Not in quite the way you’re thinking, more like the way you love him.”

  “I don’t love him.” She felt her hands shake and clenched them shut at her sides.

  “Yes, you do. It’s a sad sort of love—”

  “Excuse me?” She glared at the woman’s back.

  “—in some ways returned. You both know it wouldn’t work, yet are too scared to let go enough to let it change into something else. You both cling to your old, faded history like a cracked glass you keep hoping will one day miraculously be able to hold water again. You both do it because you can both say that the glass may be cracked, but at least you cracked it together.”

  She licked her lips. “Who are you talking about? He and the Heiress, or—”

  Giselle continued on. “Neither of you can see that the glass is the thing holding you back from something better, from getting something to replace it that could make you both happier.”

  Cygni scoffed. “I don’t know where you’re getting this from, but I think you’re a bit off-base here if you’re talking about Biren and me.”

  Giselle shrugged and put her hands on her hips.

  “So, what you’re
saying is that he and the Heiress still love each other but it’s broken or something? Is that why he came out of my office and interrupted the meeting?” she shrugged. “I guess that explains the Heiress’ reaction. It didn’t look much like Baron Keltan appreciated her affection for him.”

  Giselle gave her a pointed look and drummed her fingers against her hips. Cygni didn’t like it so she decided to change the subject.

  “What did you sense about Baron Keltan?”

  “He’s jealous, irrationally so—Cygni, do you understand what I mean about the glass?”

  “Yes, of course. What do you mean by irrationally?”

  Giselle shifted her weight from one leg to the other.

  “What?”

  She was quiet for a moment, then seemed to make up her mind about something. “As your record from the Queen Gaia proved, the VoQuana did something to him. I can feel it working as he thinks.”

  “Like mind control?”

  “It is more subtle than that. It’s more like something that pushes him in a specific direction, like a voice in his head that convinces him to do things—and it’s strong. My kind call it a ‘motivator.’”

  “Why would that monster have done that to him?” She held up her finger to forestall a response. “The VoQuana have plans for him. They need him to do something, but what? What direction are they pushing him in?”

  “The voice seems to be putting him on edge, pushing him towards reckless decisions. That’s all I could tell. I can’t say to what end they intend him to go without probing him deeper.”

  Cygni tilted her head to the side. “It’s worth thinking about. Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s linked to their plans for the Confederation.”

  Giselle nodded.

  “And speaking of which, I have to go check on Boa and the others. Biren may be foregoing his responsibilities, but I won’t.” She commanded her armacorium to shift into her everyday clothing. The black, Umbral uniform she wore turned silver, and flowing like mercury, became a yellow jacket with a blue jumper-skirt. She shivered as the sensation of the polymorphic armor sliding over her skin.

  “What about Dorsky’s orders?”

  “I’ll have Sanul get started on it when I get there. Are you coming?” She frowned at her feet for a moment, then decided on knee-high yellow boots with blue stripes.

  “No, I think I’ll work on helping Sanul find out how Baron Keltan was able to block the treasury loan for Dorsky. Maybe some of my government contacts can help. I’ll reach out to you after I have something.”

  She nodded. “We’ll meet up when I get back. I’ll say hello to everyone for you.”

  “Be careful, Cygni. Dorsky can only protect us to a certain degree. He won’t stick his neck out for us if it endangers him.”

  There was a heaviness to Giselle’s tone, an emotional undercurrent of sadness and pain that she wasn’t quite sure the woman was aware she projected. She was sure it came from Baroness Sophiathena Cronus’ betrayal. The two of them had been friends from college up until the baroness traded her to Dorsky for an entry fee to his conspiracy. Though the move had put Giselle and Cygni on the same side, it wounded her. Even now, half a month later, the woman was still hurting.

  Cygni moved over and gave her a tight hug. “I’ll watch myself. You do the same—and if you run into Biren please try to talk some sense into him.”

  The tunnels that ran under the Biodome were part of the same network that was used to construct the city’s various utility conduits centuries ago. When Ikuzlu was founded by the Cleebians they were trying to break the will of the newly conquered Akinoi people; prisoners of war were used instead of robots. Cygni was sure many of them must have died in the darkness of these tunnels. Most of them were on city maps that one could download from the Ikuzlu public servers, but access was restricted to city personnel. In practice the utility tunnels made up an endless web of crisscrossing pathways that were too numerous and extensive to police.

  Her nasal filters detected elevated levels of mind-altering pheromones and engaged in a response before she entered the chamber where her companions waited. The sound of grating metal on fastcrete vibrated in the air when she closed the door behind her using a rusty hand-crank protruding from the rock wall. Lit by a handful of portable glow-orbs, the space was just big enough for four people to sleep plus the portable vensynth they crammed against one wall. With Boa, Sanul, and Ila present it was a little cozy.

  “Hey,” she said with a cautious smile. “How are you doing?”

  She looked at Biren’s sister, Boadicea, her best friend until she screwed up by using her to spy on the Biodome. Boa returned the look with a flat stare. Her black dreadlocks hung from her head like dead snakes, and her face was drawn by long days of suffering. She had dark skin, like her brother, and high cheekbones streaked with dust and tears. Cygni could just make out the faint lines of the vine-like tattoos on the left side of her face through the dirt. The green and blue-beaded halter that symbolized Boa’s clan affiliation was filthier than she had seen it before. Though the tunnels were far from clean, there was a working sanitation booth close by. It was obvious that of the three fugitives, only Boa was foregoing its use.

  “Never mind, I can see how you’re doing.” Cygni frowned.

  Boa snorted and turned her head. “What do you want?”

  She winced. “I’m sorry, but you have to tend to yourself.”

  Boa turned her eyes and looked Cygni up and down. They gleamed with sharp intelligence despite the wretched state of her body.

  “I’m here to check up on you, and to talk.”

  “I think you’ve done enough of the latter, and we don’t need the former. Nothing has worked out since you decided to get involved with us. I told you to stay away, didn’t I? Now look at what you’ve done.” Boa spat on the floor and glared at her.

  Ila angled niur head down. Once as green as the leaves of an Earth tree, niur eyes and skin were fading after so much time underground. The fractal tattoos covering niur skin glowed bright-red down Ila’s bare arms and through the slits in niur knee-length skirt. Aratiach’Ila’Anaeriae was the tallest among them, standing twenty-centimeters above the top of Cygni’s head, and had to hunch over to prevent the split-crest rising from the top of niur nose to the edges of Ila’s nautilus-like ears from scraping the roof.

  “How are you holding up?” she asked.

  “As well as can be expected,” Ila responded. “I am tired, though. I guess I did not realize how much of my energy came from my skin. I have been photosynthetic since I was a child.”

  “Sorry about all this. I hope we can get you back in the sunlight soon.” She wasn’t sure why she apologized.

  “It’s bad enough you caused this. Any word on when we’ll see the sun, or will you keep us down here until Ila dies?” Boa snapped.

  She sighed.

  “Please, do not worry about it, Haem Cygni,” Ila said. “I have absorbed enough human DNA recently that I think I will survive.”

  A member of the Isinari species, Ila absorbed DNA from whatever compatible biological material was in prolonged contact with niur mucous membranes. It could be from food, other Isinari, or, as Cygni suspected from the pheromones and the increased brawn, from Biren.

  “Ah,” Sanul said, raising a four-fingered hand up in the air by his hircine head. The light of the glow orbs in the ceiling played in rainbow colors on his twisting, bio-crystal horns. “It still would be good to get out of here soon.”

  “I’m sorry. I know. Please be patient and trust that we’re working toward that. Once this is all over, we can all get out into the light,” she said.

  “Where is Biren?” Ila asked in a quiet voice.

  “Yes, where’s my foolhardy brother?” Boa echoed.

  Her lips twitched. “He left the tower angry with me. I don’t know where he went.”

  A tension formed around niur eyes. “If the Praetor catches him…”

  “I know,” she nodded. “He’s stubborn, and alw
ays has been, but this time it could get him—well, you know. Maybe he’ll show up once he’s cooled off.”

  “I hope.” Ila rubbed niur eyes.

  Boa snorted. “I swear, Cygni, if you’ve caused another of my family to be harmed… Bad enough your meddling lead to the death of my mother—”

  “I’m not the one who killed her, the Praetor is. I came to help you, remember? I got you out of there.”

  “Too late, though, wasn’t it? And if you hadn’t gotten involved at all you wouldn’t have exposed us.” Boa raised her hand to her dirt-encrusted necklace. “So much harm from that little spy-grain, right Cygni?”

  She sighed. “I can’t fix that.”

  “You can’t fix anything.” Boa shook her head.

  “What happened?” Sanul’s geode-like eyes focused on her. “Last time Biren disappeared it was to go to the dome, but—”

  She held up her hand. The Biodome was gone. Talking about it could only serve as the source of pain for them.

  “I don’t know where he went, but he knows how to take care of himself.”

  “But the Praetor is after us.” Ila leaned back against the curved wall. “She will catch him.”

  “We have to hope that he’ll come to his senses before that,” Cygni responded.

  “Do you know why he blew up at you this time?” Sanul’s long nostrils flared. “And where is Giselle?”

  His first question brought Pasqualina Olivaar and her blond ringlets to mind. Biren told her the heiress was Baroness Altair’s daughter and a Gaian agent. She hadn’t known what the woman actually meant to him until she saw them together in Dorsky’s office. Giselle’s theory seemed right. Goddess-dammit, the man had to grow up and be an adult. They couldn’t afford for him to act so childish—and what did his emotions towards the heiress mean for Ila? Could he really be emotionally present for nium until the old flame was extinguished?

  “Giselle is getting started on an assignment for our boss. She’s going to need to coordinate with you, Sanul. I’ll fill you in on what. Any progress with our own project?”

  He and Ila shifted their weight.