Wait here, she sent to Iapetus.
“Affirmative, Meia.” He froze, facing the doorway. The tens of sensor-dots beneath his translucent skull flashed red before returning to shimmering blue. It was a challenge, a sign of his own defiance to their host’s manservant. Iapetus would not allow another AI to order him around.
“Lead on.” Meia smiled.
Ben nodded and headed for the lift at the end of the hallway.
“Baron Keltan is about to be the most powerful being in the Confederation,” the artificial said once the lift doors closed.
“That might be open to debate.” She raised an eyebrow.
“It is a mathematical fact, along with the scale of the enemies he will have,” Ben continued in a neutral tone. “You are his bodyguard. You must be prepared.”
She frowned. The lift dropped down a level, but the doors did not open. Crossing her arms she turned to face Ben.
“You must be upgraded.”
“I’m fine, thank you,” she said.
“Negative. This is not open to debate.”
“I’ve got Iapetus.” An uncomfortable feeling formed in the pit of her stomach. What the hell was he talking about?
“Every Premier since the Quae-Sol War has had at least one capable protector upgraded with the latest technology. I would see my master succeed.”
“What exactly are you talking about?” She scowled.
“I will show you after you tend to Baron Keltan.” He paused, staring at her with his creepy pinhole eyes. “If you are to continue in your present capacity it must be done.”
“You’re not doing anything to me without telling me what the hell you are talking about.”
“I will, after you tend to Baron Keltan.”
The doors opened.
The hallway lights were dimmed to a quarter of their intensity. Ben lead the way down the long corridor and stood in front of the library door with arms folded before his waist. She moved with feigned confidence down the hallway with her heart racing.
“Baron Keltan is still distraught, but against my advice he wishes to see you urgently. Please take care, he is in a fragile state,” Ben stepped out of her way.
Her back stiffened. What was going on?
She entered the library. It was so dark inside that her cybernetic corneas’ light-enhancement function kicked in. Moving slowly past the racks of books arrayed into neat columns, she found the baron seated on the old wooden table beneath a large Gothic window. He was facing her, his clothing half-undone, and his long, copper locks in a chaotic wiry halo around his head. He seemed to be involved in an intense study of his knees for several long moments before looking up and taking note of her with puffy, reddened eyes.
“You came.” His vocal cords popped more than usual.
Of course, you called me and I work for you, she thought but kept it to herself.
Baron Keltan took several ragged breaths before continuing.
“I can’t believe she’s gone, Meia. My Lina… I never meant for this to happen. She wasn’t supposed to—to die.”
She grimaced, feeling a pang of sympathy in her chest.
“I’m sorry, sir.”
His eyes dropped and he shuddered as tears streamed down his face.
“I loved her. We were supposed to be married and happy. I shouldn’t have let that Gaian come between us like that. Now, I’ll never have the chance to make it up to her.” He moaned and buried his head in his hands.
Meia bit her bottom lip and looked away from his pain. She was never much good and comforting people, but she recognized that no matter what the VoQuana did to him he was as much a victim of all of this as she. In that, she could find common ground.
“I’m alone now, just like you were on Calemni.” He shook his head as though trying to throw something off. His eyes snapped up to meet hers without warning. “You know what I mean? Yes, you do. We both know what it’s like to truly be alone.”
“I—” she hesitated, reminding herself that she was both exquisitely dependent on this man for her survival and her revenge. She needed to watch him to determine if he was involved with those producing Siren, but it was hard not to rush forward and give him a shoulder to cry on. He was right, though, and there was really no reason she couldn’t do both. “I do.”
“Oh goddess!” Cylus fell into another fit of tears.
Watching him was giving her a lump in her throat. He seemed so small at that moment, so vulnerable. She knew he’d been put through the ringer by the Baroness Cronus and everything that happened. From Cygni and Sanul’s files she had access to the baroness’ private communications. It was truly incredible how the Gaians managed to pull that off. Meia knew that more blows to Cylus’ fragile ego were on the way.
Staring at his shuddering, hunched form she felt the sudden need to tell him. Would it do any good, though? Would it help fortify him for what was to come or break him in this vulnerable moment? Guilt at her indecision tugged at her heart. Before she knew it she found herself moving across the carpeted floor and standing before the poor man despite herself.
“It’s a tough thing to be alone. If I hadn’t had Iapetus I would have died,” she whispered to him.
“Yes, you understand,” he whined. “How am I going to do this without her?”
She touched his shoulder. “You’ll manage. You’re Baron Keltan. Believe it or not, you’re strong. You survived Calemni and you took on the Premier of the Confederation and won. You can do this.”
For several minutes the only sound in the air was his sobbing. Without warning he lunged forward and wrapped his arms around her. She jerked in place.
“You’re right, I did.” He blinked, his cheeks slick and damp. “Dorsky must pay for plotting to kill my aunts. If he hadn’t done that Lina would still be alive.”
She resisted the urge to cock an eyebrow. It was Sophi that pushed the Premier to it, though he still bore the responsibility of listening to the moronic idea.
“I suppose you’re right,” she said at length.
“Yes, you understand.” Cylus sat up, releasing her. “Him and all who conspired with him. The are all guilty of taking her from me!”
He slammed his fist into the side of the table. She pulled back, but as suddenly as the anger had come it left. He hunched forward, putting his head in his hands.
“If they’d only said something sooner about what he was planning she’d still be alive,” he whispered. “Oh goddess…”
“There there, you’ll have your revenge.” Meia gritted her teeth and patted the back of his head.
“Yes, I will.” He sat up again. “You’ll do it, won’t you?”
“What?”
“You’ll be my Hand of Vengeance? I can’t trust anyone else, and you are uniquely qualified.”
She licked her lips, wondering what he was really asking. Was this all grief-babel, or was he asking her to be his assassin? She realized that it might not matter. More authority from him, the future Premier of the Confederation, would give her access to the places she would need to go if she was going to stop Siren.
“I will.”
“And Sophi… She’s going to try and control me. I need you to keep me on an even keel. You’ll do that, right?”
“I will,” she said.
“Yes, of course. You will have your revenge, too. We both will. We must. I need you, Meia. You’re an honest person like Lina was. I need you to be a counterweight to what Sophi will try to do to me. Please, I need you.”
“I’m here for you,” she said, trying not to frown at the awkwardness of the situation. This was way out of her comfort zone but she knew now she couldn’t walk away from what she had to do.
“Cylus, I think it’s fair to say that we need each other. I’ll support you. I’ll do what I can for you and what you need if you promise to do the same for me. I’m talking past our original deal, okay? Can you do that for me?”
“Yes, of course. Anything,” he whispered. “Just don’t leave
me.”
“Um, okay. I won’t.” She blinked, wondering what the hell she had gotten herself into.
Part II
Chapter Fifteen
Ol’Lekhura World-Ship
J2400:3293
[::ALERT:: TOXINS DETECTED. ATTEMPTING PURGE ::ALERT::]
Fire. Her world was on fire. The missile streaked for the back of the car. There was a flash, and then… fire.
[::ALERT:: TOXINS DETECTED. LEVELS RISING. PURGE FAILED. ::ALERT::]
She tried to raise her arms but they felt like lead weights. She had the sense that a voice was talking for a long time but the words didn’t register. There was something wrong. It happened after the explosion knocked her through the car’s windshield. She remembered hitting the pavement. Her armacorium protected her, but she was hurt bad. She couldn’t move, and then someone big was standing over her laughing with a sound that was like tearing metal and rocks.
A jolt passed through her body. There was a sound like distant thunder, and something crunching—
“Don’t touch it!” someone rumbled from far away. She felt the sensation of turning, floating, then heard thunder again.
What was that?
[::ALERT:: TOXINS DETECTED. LEVELS FALLING. ATTEMPTING PURGE. ::ALERT::]
She tried to open her eyes, but it was like they were fused together. Where was she? She felt her body trying to panic, but she kept hitting a wall like her nervous system was being restrained.
She blacked out… and woke again feeling more exhausted than she had in her life.
[::ALERT:: TOXINS DETECTED. LEVELS FALLING. PURGING. ::ALERT::]
Toxins? She was poisoned?
Her body felt like needles were stabbing into her every pore. She tried to scream but no sound came. There was something flowing in and out of her lungs. It tickled and the sound of her cough was like an explosion underwater. She gritted her teeth and managed to pry apart her eyelids through sheer force of will. They focused so slowly she wasn’t sure she succeeded in opening them until a glowing, yellow-green blur appeared before her.
[::ALERT:: TOXINS… PURGED. ::ALERT::]
Is that you, PLIA?
[PLIA standing by. Oxygenated fluid contaminant detected. Location: Respiratory tract. Risk assessment: Non-fatal hazard. ::ALERT:: Puncture wound detected, left arm. Analysis: syringe intrusion. ::ALERT::]
Her eyes focused in and out. Her head was pounding so hard she had splotches of color in her vision, but through it she could see the yellow-green glow was a touch screen centimeters from her face. The script looked backward, but there seemed to be a message blinking in its center. It gave off just enough light for her to see she was floating in a fluid-filled capsule with nothing but darkness beyond its transparent walls.
Interface with the terminal, she told her PLIA. A window opened in her UI showing the connection status. It changed a moment later to reflect the menu on the surface of the capsule. The writing was alien, something with jagged edges, like the thorny vines the Gaians liked to tattoo on their skin.
Her heart skipped a beat. She recognized the script; it was Orgnan.
Fuck, she thought. She was in one of the suspended animation capsules they used to transport captives between planets. A shiver passed through her. She was caught, but how? How did she go from dying on a Kosfantari street to this?
Goddess, Biren is dead.
The hard truth rolled over her like a wave, shaking her to her core. Her Biri was gone forever. The Praetor killed him, crushed him under her heel like a bug, like he was nothing. The pain in her throat was sharp and intense. Tears welled up in her eyes.
No! Not now. Mourn later, you’re in danger. Dammit, Cygni, get a grip! She clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palms until the pain brought her back to herself. She had to figure out what was going on, how she got here, and how she was going to get out.
After she passed out in the street the Orgnan must have come along and scooped her up. It was the only explanation for her present circumstance. Had the baroness betrayed them? Had Dorsky? They were going to string her up and torture her while they laughed. They were going to cut her open and—and—
She was breathing hard, causing the fluid to cavitate in her lungs. She convulsed and slammed her head against the capsule.
Goddess-dammit, Cygni. Get a hold of yourself. She was still in transit. The capsule must be malfunctioning, or she wouldn’t be awake. As far as she knew the subjects never woke up unless the capsule opened, but it didn’t matter what freed her. She had a chance to escape and she wasn’t going to waste it.
She took in another breath of the fluid and made herself stay calm. She was on her back so there must be gravity. Was she on a planet? If so she was fucked, but since she hadn’t been unpacked maybe that meant she was in a spaceport terminal. Maybe she could call the authorities for help.
She told her PLIA to translate the terminal readout and the jagged script changed to the block letters of Solan writing. She almost smiled, then winced as her headache swelled. The capsule was damaged. Its log showed that it suffered a significant impact about twenty-minutes ago. That was why she was awake. The somniatic regulator was broken and she was willing to bet that she wasn’t where the Orgnan wanted her.
Armacorium: Armor Mode, she told her PLIA. A tingle spread across her skin as the silver polymer flowed from her pours, encapsulating every millimeter of her body like a warm blanket.
She ordered the capsule to drain and open. It hissed and pumps replaced the fluid with air. The mix was wrong for a Solan but it wasn’t so far off that her molecular nasal filters couldn’t compensate. She would be okay. Once the process completed she coughed the last of the fluid from her lungs and breathed in the cold air.
Radar.
Her PLIA activated her internal radar and a wire-frame diagram overlay of the box around the capsule appeared in her vision. She altered its wavelength and a room materialized beyond it. There were other boxes in it. Might Giselle and Lina be among them? It seemed likely if the Orgnan grabbed all of them together. Pushing the thought from her mind she focused on her surroundings.
There was no one in the room; that was her second stroke of good luck.
She rolled up into a crouch and shoved herself through the crate’s lid using her armacorium enhanced strength. It flew off with a metallic pop and slammed against the ceiling before floating toward the ground like a feather. Her body continued to move up after the lid but she managed to grab the edge of the crate to stop herself. It jumped, but fell back to the deck a moment later pulling her with it.
Motion-activated lights triggered brightening the room to daylight levels.
Shit, she thought, realizing she was in a low-gravity environment. The noise must have been heard throughout the area, and she wouldn’t have long before someone showed up.
[Magnetizing armacorium. Recommend armament.] Her PLIA flashed a crate in her vision as she felt herself anchor to the deck.
She moved to it and tore the crate open. Inside a rack of oiled gauss carbines gleamed. Her PLIA displayed their statistics in her vision and activated the necessary Umbral engrams. The knowledge of a commando flowed into her brain. She grabbed one of the carbines and let her fingers check that all of its parts were working before reaching back into the box and snapping a charge and ammo clip into the weapon.
[Vibration detected] her PLIA announced. [Incoming contacts.]
A circular display opened in her UI showing a red dot heading for her position. She raised the carbine to her shoulder and pointed it at the cargo room’s door while she moved to tear open the other crates. They came free with barely a tug from her strength-enhanced arms. She felt a rush of adrenaline at the thought of how strong she was with the armacorium deployed but it faded as crate after crate revealed nothing but rations, supplies, and more weapons.
She was alone. Did that mean Giselle and Lina were dead? Not necessarily, they could have escaped while she was unconscious or been shipped to other destinations o
n different ships. The thought send a shudder of revulsion through her.
Her UI flashed when the red dot reached the room’s door.
She was out of time.
The door slid open. The Orgnan standing in the matte-gray hallway ducked his potato-shaped head in and squinted with small, yellow eyes. The two saber-teeth on either side of his white beard gleamed in the light as his mouth gaped. His thick, four-fingered hands flexed beside his thighs and drew her attention to the handle-like remote strapped to one of them. The sight of it sent a bolt of ice down her back. For a brief moment she could taste the mix of fear and blood on her tongue from the last time she experienced its effects. The muscles of her body twitched at the memory of what those devices did to her when she had one of their control chips embedded in her spine.
Her reflexes took over before her mind could catch up. She swung the rifle into firing position and squeezed the trigger. The weapon hummed and bullets crackled through the air, tearing their way through the soft flesh of her target. The Orgnan’s eyes glazed over as he dropped with slow-motion fountains of blood spurting into the air from half a dozen holes. His body seemed to take forever to reach the metal deck. The wasp-like abdomen convulsed several times and he lay still as pink foam seeped from his lips.
Cygni raised a hand to her neck, feeling only smooth skin beneath the pad of her finger. She shuddered, this time with relief. They must not have had time to operate on Kosfanter. The Orgnan’s most devastating weapon was useless.
[More contacts detected. Recommend evasion.]
Engrams in Cygni’s head fired and she moved forward on swift, silent feet. She paused by the body, hesitating to step over him. Even though she knew he was dead she could almost feel the touch of the Orgnan’s hand around her neck.
Tearing her eyes away she looked up and down the corridor with her carbine held diagonally across her chest.
Bars and grates covered the pipes and wiring of the ship around her. The corridor extended for about five meters to her right and then made a sharp turn. It went on for about twelve meters to her left before meeting a T-intersection with a faded, bent ”Y” symbol of the Orgnan Empire painted onto a plate bolted to the grate.
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