Covenants: Savant (Hymn of the Multiverse Book 10)

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Covenants: Savant (Hymn of the Multiverse Book 10) Page 10

by Terra Whiteman


  Because I didn’t want to execute the other option. Can’t you… I don’t know, tune the headset?

  Qaira scoffed. Tune the headset to do what?

  I sighed and a ran hand through my hair, feeling the dampness around my temples from the heat. The debris from the mines and the winds across barren terrain had left me perpetually coated in brown dust.

  —Just absorb the samples. Tune your headset to slow the absorption process and upload the diagnostics into attica. I don’t understand why that isn’t your first option.

  The last time I absorbed anything from this place, Pedagogue infiltrated my genetic code and also found my attica resonating signature. These samples will have nano-particles, same as the last. I don’t want to be so transparent.

  —Yeah, I get it. Pariah and I are working on control measures to better encrypt our signatures. Right now, we have no choice but to absorb the samples. If they try anything funny, we’ll come and destroy them, alright?

  … Is this your response to the matter, or the nobles’?

  —Leid wouldn’t hesitate to back me; she has Adrial on a leash, so yeah. Don’t worry about it, kid. Just do your job.

  Do not call me that.

  Qaira severed the connection without a response. I sat alone, staring at Savant’s empty shell. The ports were still glowing, making the room brighter than it’d ever been.

  I don’t know how long I waited, but it seemed Savant would be gone for longer than it’d suggested. I thought of the woman in the street. The shattering glass.

  If Pedagogue was bold enough to pry, then I would be, too.

  No doubt they were watching as I left my seat and began for the entrance—the nanoports were everywhere, aglow, omniscient—but nothing came to stop me as I stepped out into the vacant nerve-center campus. I touched my right temple, activated my headset, flicked my eye upward to change the spectrum of vision. The hybridized metal used to build their structures oddly made it difficult to see through their walls. There were at least two dozen spires and a drone facility that encompassed the campus. It all looked very hive-like. I had to switch through several spectrums until I found one that revealed a very messy scene within a spire, four down from mine.

  The door had been left slightly ajar, the nanoport on its frame blinking red. Curious, I looked around at all the other spires in the vicinity. None of them had doors, except for this one. With a locking mechanism, no less.

  Switching back to the visible spectrum, I cautiously entered the cool, dimly-lit hallway. There were rows of rooms with glass observation panes. Interrogation rooms, seemingly. The first few were vacant, but I definitely could smell the scene before I stumbled upon it. That pungent, damp, metallic scent, bordering on excrement, but not quite.

  And then I stood in front of the shattered pane, gazing over the bloodbath. A dozen people were scattered across the floor in pools of black, congealing fluid. Their bodies were punctured with black spikes, like pin cushions, all made of the metal-hybrid material. One woman in particular had no spikes but a concave and split skull, as if having been crushed by something heavy. Smaller chunks of the hybrid material lay just beyond the doorway. It reminded me of the pre-formation with which Savant had greeted me. I thought again of that woman in the street.

  Perpetrator, or very lucky victim?

  “You are not supposed to be here,” said a voice behind me.

  I turned, facing Savant.

  “You were supposed to wait at the central spire.” Its face was neutral, voice inflectionless. I wondered what mine looked like, just then.

  “You took too long,” I stated, coolly. “And, as I’ve already said, free will tends to generate curiosity.” I looked back toward the room, folding my arms. “It appears you’ve greatly understated both Pedagogue’s situation and its treatment of humans.”

  “We did not do this.”

  “And yet what purpose does this place hold, if not for subjugation?”

  “I was going to tell you. It was important that you know the whole story. I started at the beginning.”

  “I’m no longer interested in your exposition,” I said, waving a hand over the carnage. “Let’s talk about this.”

  9

  MEHRIT

  PEDAGOGUE’S MAIN FACILITY WAS SECLUDED from the rest of Wereda by a seemingly endless stretch of empty row and arid landscape. I had to keep stopping to catch my breath and weather the stabbing pain in my side, terrified I’d collapse from exhaustion before ever reaching a populated sector.

  But that didn’t happen. I reached Oscent as the sky turned dark.

  I’d never been to this sector before, inhabited by those who’d once belonged to a different tribe. Even the dwellings looked different. The place was shoddier than Nascent or Reascent, its people appearing less friendly. I was obviously an outsider, and as I meandered down row after row in a quick gait, any and every pair of Oscentian eyes found me. Followed me.

  It was when I reached the edge of the sector that I learned Oscent had their own Eyes. One of them came out into the middle of the row, blocking my path. I stopped, and we stared at each other from a several pace distance. She was younger than me, but not by much, cloaked and sandaled, a satchel around her waist. Her hair was short—barely even there—and she wore the Oscent tribal markings on her cheeks. I felt a tug on the back of my head as she tried to access my identity. Who I was. Why I was here.

  I let her. I let her see everything, even the part where I’d smashed the Vestal’s head against the table. It was the only way I was going to get past her.

  As she saw all of my sins, I clenched my bionic fist. An unspoken language occurred between us.

  Get out of my way, said my expression. Or I will go through you.

  Her face remained neutral, but she stepped aside and kept to the edge of the row. As I passed her, she said, “You are covered in blood. Clean up if you are trying to hide.” Her Dyova was thickly accented, not her native tongue, but I understood well enough.

  I nodded thanks and moved onto the next sector, looking for a concealed place to do as she’d said. I wondered why she helped me.

  Behind a split-family dwelling was a tap used to fill buckets of water. I cleaned my face and hands, staring numbly at the pink water that trickled from my skin. My shawl had to go. I wadded it up and hid it beneath a gap in the dwelling’s foundation. This sector wasn’t much better than Oscent.

  When voices within the dwelling grew too near for comfort, I moved on, hoping I’d cleaned up enough. I walked along the side-rows, head down, the shroud no longer concealing my head or bionic arm, but the night did a good enough job.

  I wanted to go home, but couldn’t. That would put Ema and Biri in danger.

  Abel, I thought. He had said there were people who rebelled against Pedagogue that he knew. Maybe they could hide me, until I figured out what to do next.

  I headed in the direction of Reascent. It was still a long way from where I was.

  Why hadn’t I seen any drones?

  Was no one chasing me?

  Was no one tracking me?

  Of course they were. I just didn’t know how yet.

  It was very late when I reached Reascent. It had taken hours, but I’d saved some time by cutting a diagonal path across Wereda’s map with alleys and yards, rather than main rows. I was tired, hungry, and hadn’t a clue where Abel lived or how I might find him. Ema was probably worried to death.

  The streets were vacant. Things in Reascent were eerily quiet. Most residents weren’t about after dark, but there were always at least one or two nearby.

  Abel, where are you? I need to speak to you. I am in trouble.

  These were panicked thoughts only meant to motivate me into thinking of a solution, but then I felt a wave of chills across my head, as if my skull itself had just shivered. The sensation confused me and I remained still for a while. Until my stomach growled.

  There were no food vendors around, either. That was unusual.

  Prickled by c
aution, my only course of action was to hide somewhere with a clear view of Reascent’s main row for the night, and hope to see Abel waiting for a transporter in the morning. I drank as much water as I could from a rusty tap in the backyard of someone’s dwelling, to trick my stomach into thinking it was full. Then I sat behind a well-concealed cluster of rubbish bins near the entrance of a narrow alley. I kept my eyes on the main row, vowing not to sleep.

  *

  “Mehrit?”

  Someone touched my shoulder, and I started awake. I’d fallen asleep, tucked away against the alley wall and rubbish bins, knees curled to my chest, head on my arms. At first there was some confusion over where I was, but it came back swiftly. Abel was standing over me, eyes gleaming beneath the night sky.

  It was still night. Why was he here?

  “How… did you find me?” I slurred, still drunk from sleep.

  He didn’t answer that question. “What are you doing here? Are you hiding?”

  “I…” I began, but then repeated, “How did you find me?”

  Abel winced, looked around. “I… heard you.”

  “Heard me?”

  “In my head. I was asleep, thought it was a dream. You said you were in trouble. I could not shake the feeling that it might be real, so I came to look.”

  I hesitated, baffled. “You sleep with your eye activated?”

  “No.”

  Silence. We looked at each other.

  “But it seems that you are in trouble,” he went on, frowning with deep concern. “Or else you would not be hiding in rubbish.”

  “So astute,” I muttered, getting to my feet. “No wonder you are an Eye.”

  Abel smiled, but it was brief. “Come to my dwelling. It’s safer than the streets. Who is searching for you?”

  “Pedagogue, maybe. I don’t know.”

  There was some hesitation in Abel’s expression; he was working through his own risk among all this. Then he said, “Come, hurry. I live just down the row.”

  His dwelling was two rows over. Closer to the Artifact than I cared to be. The dwelling was modest; a single, circular room with a hammock and very sparse kitchen area. There were backpacks and linens in a corner, but no furniture. Sacks of protein flakes rested against the kitchen bar and dirty cooking pans littered the table-top. There was no indication that anyone lived with him. That was strange for Wereda.

  “You live alone?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Where is your family?”

  “They were alive when I was sent to the mines. My mother and sisters lived here,” said Abel, quietly. He poured me a glass of water from the filtering canister. “When I lost my leg and was sent home, they were not here anymore. The neighbors say different things. Some of them say they moved out, others say they were taken by a transport drone.”

  I took the water that he offered. “How long ago?”

  “It looked like no one had lived here for years. I’ve been trying to find them, but nothing so far.” He shrugged, pretending the matter didn’t bother him much. “It happens, sometimes.”

  “What does?”

  “People go missing. Suddenly dwellings are empty, as if they never existed at all.”

  That had never happened in Nascent. All I could do was frown with sympathy. “Can I have something to eat?” I felt ashamed to ask; it was custom to be offered, but the hunger was too painful to ignore.

  “Of course,” said Abel, his eyes flashing with both concern and relief that we had changed the subject. “I am not a good cook, though.”

  “I would eat anything right now.”

  He fixed me a spot in the center of the room to rest, atop a blanket that he’d lain. “Wait here, then.”

  I finished the water and set the cup on the floor, huddling into a ball on the blanket. I wanted to go back to sleep. I wanted to wake up in my own house, realizing all of this had just been a nightmare. I felt the strength of my bionic grip on my knee, thought of the sound the Vestal’s head had made when it hit the table. I never knew I was so strong. I’d never had to find out.

  The sounds of clattering ware eventually faded, as did my thoughts. The next thing I knew, Abel was nudging me awake, a bowl of boiled flakes with red spices in his hand. I shot up at the sight, trying to spoon at the food before I’d even fully received the bowl. It was mushy and bland. I ignored the shiny particles that contaminated it.

  Abel sat in the hammock, swinging gently, watching me devour the food. There was pity on his face, but my eye also sensed caution, curiosity. He wanted to know why I was here—why I’d been out on the streets. He wanted to know if sheltering me put him in danger, too. My heart sank as my stomach filled. Abel would not be the ally I had thought, but I understood. I would not have been so generous if the tables were turned, either.

  For the first time, I was thankful for my ever-sensing eye. It told me to be careful with what I shared.

  “Tell me what has happened,” insisted Abel, clasping his hands together. His anxiety hummed like a broken instrument.

  I would, but not yet. “Let me sleep first. I’m too exhausted. I will tell you everything then.”

  Abel hesitated. I watched his fingers twitch.

  “Please.”

  “Okay. There are a few hours left until morning.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

  He said no more, and I gave him my empty bowl and mug, curling back onto the floor. A moment later, Abel placed another blanket atop me. I felt guilty for resting; I should have been planning my next move. But my body was leaden and my mind was too bleary for me to stay guilty for long.

  I fell asleep to the soft, distant sounds of ruffling paper.

  *

  I awoke to racket outside. Light bled through the cracks of Abel’s dwelling entrance, the exterior separated by only a thin, tattered curtain with intricate patterns.

  Someone was banging pans together on the row. Others were shouting. Amidst the angry noise, a few wailed sorrowfully. I sat up, blinking in confusion, and looked across the room. Abel was not here.

  Prickles of fear afflicted my skin and I quickly got to my feet, darting behind the kitchen bar. Was that crowd out there for me? Had Abel actually told Pedagogue where I was? Tears of betrayal blurred my vision. I wiped them away, scanning the dwelling for another way out.

  And then the curtain was pushed aside, and Abel stepped in. He stopped, puzzled when I wasn’t where he’d left me. “Mehrit?” Before I could respond, his eyes moved to the shadowy kitchen. “What are you doing?”

  My eye said he hadn’t betrayed me. I was embarrassed. “What… what is going on outside?”

  “A baby was found in one of the bins in the alley. A boy.”

  “What?” I gasped.

  “The neighborhood is rallying together to find out who put him there. There were two pregnant women on the row. It is possible someone from another sector came here to dump him.” He said all this with such… regularity, while my stomach twisted at the news.

  “How are you not upset?” Even my eye didn’t sense any sympathy from him.

  “Because his mother did him a favor,” Abel said quietly, looking away. “I wish my mother had done the same. You don’t want to live if you are a boy.”

  “He could have gotten lucky,” I said. “Like you.”

  Abel smiled. “Yes, lucky. So lucky, in fact, that I have been tasked by Pedagogue to find the murderess and bring her to processing. Most of Reascent’s Eyes will be busy today.”

  “Have you heard anything else?” I asked.

  “About you?” He shook his head. “No. But if you are in as much trouble as you say, it won’t be safe for you here much longer.”

  I didn’t understand. Why hadn’t anything happened yet? There had to be some repercussions for what I’d done. Unless….

  Pedagogue is trying to keep it secret.

  Somehow, that was more frightening than the thought of patrol drones crawling the rows in search of me.
<
br />   “We have an hour before I must leave,” Abel went on. “You should have something to eat before you go.”

  I moved away from the kitchen bar as he shifted by me. “You mentioned there were other people, like you.” I thought better. “Like us.”

  Abel didn’t look at me, focusing on scooping flakes into two bowls atop the counter. “Yes.”

  “I was wondering if they…” I felt very uncomfortable asking. I didn’t want to. I’d gone through life owing no one anything, up until now. “They might be able to find somewhere safe for me.”

  “That depends, Mehrit,” he said, eyes slowly rising to mine. “You haven’t told me what you’ve done.”

  I hesitated, and Abel continued to stare.

  More pans crashed together from outside the dwelling, making both of us jump. We looked toward the noise, uneasily.

  “You don’t trust me?” he asked. I was surprised to sense some hurt from him.

  “My Eye tells me not to,” I confessed, stalwart.

  Abel laughed, but it wasn’t happy. “If you can’t trust me with your business, then I can’t trust you with mine.”

  “Telling you might put you in danger, Abel. It’s better not to know. I just need to hide.”

  “If what you’ve done is so horrible that you can’t tell me, I’m already in danger by harboring you here. If you want me to expose the members of our resistance, you have to expose yourself. For all I know, you were appointed by Pedagogue to infiltrate us.”

  I felt myself flinch. “That isn’t true.”

  “And how do I know? You said you didn’t trust me.”

  I cast my gaze to the ground, defeated.

  Abel poured steaming water into our bowls. “I’m not forcing you to tell me. You will, or you won’t. You can eat breakfast and then leave with your secrets intact. But if you want any further help from me, I need you to be honest.”

  Damn you, I thought. But it wasn’t fair to think that. He was only looking after himself, as was I. A cruel world this was. “I can’t bear to tell you. It’s too…” I closed my eyes. “I don’t want you to—,”

 

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