“You feel this despair too, yes?”
“Why?” Sarrin whispered, unable to pull her eyes away.
“Everything is connected,” Roelle answered, hoping down from the grassy ledge and picking her way down the ashy hillside.
Sarrin followed even though every instinct in her told her to run.
“You see we have differences, and yet we are the same?” Roelle asked. “You see this, yes?”
“I don’t know.”
“You do. You are too smart not to know.”
Sarrin frowned.
“You are different from your captain.” Roelle turned back to face her. “He seeks to help us by removing us, but you see we are connected here. The birds and the goral and the trees speak in our bones. The death of this forest is, in a way, our death. But if we leave, we will lose our connection to the world itself, and we will die. Perhaps more slowly than if we are hunted down, but we will die all the same. It is as the humans do, now that their home is lost.”
“What?”
Roelle stared into the sky, her young face hardened with determination. Her skin picked up the greyness of death from the ruined forest around them, contrasting with her wild eyes, the vivid blue and white shining like a beacon in the dead landscape.
“I don’t underst—.”
The Agada snapped her fingers, and Sarrin stared at her hand, confused, until she noted the hovering cloud of ash and debris behind her. The cloud swirled, clumping itself into a sphere. And then into the shape of a goral. And finally to a person walking between the burned trees.
Roelle let the fragments go, and they fell, the shapes dissolving into nothing.
Sarrin stared until the last clot of ash had floated to the ground.
“You can do this too, yes.”
Her heart thrummed, muscles twitching, but she was rooted in place. “Uh.”
“It is not a question. Urubane saw you smash a drone in their city. I made the offer to train you, but I see now with the attacks on our village that it can no longer be optional. Galiant and Urubane are right, our time is running out here. I will teach you now. The knowledge is yours, to do with as you wish, if that makes a difference for you. Come.” Roelle started again down the slope.
“When did this happen?” Sarrin said. “The war, I mean.”
“Before my time,” said Roelle. She judged Sarrin. “Before your time too, I suspect. Forty-nine of our cycles.”
Sarrin did the math. “That’s one-hundred-sixty years-standard.”
Roelle nodded.
“It hasn’t grown at all?”
“Only on the very edges. The trees are afraid of this place. Such destruction terrifies life, sends it into hiding. Two hundred of your years ago, the Humans came to this planet to colonize it. It was warm, well oxygenated, and the soil was fertile. It was ready to support life. Only life was already here when the first settlers came.” She said ‘human’ like it was something else, something other.
“I still don’t understand,” said Sarrin.
“But you do. We are not Human. We are Uruhu.”
Sarrin stumbled.
“There were many more tribes, many more villages then. When the Humans came, all the Agada went to meet the settlers. It seemed a peaceful agreement was made — all life is connected, we are all the same, even when we are different; we were not opposed to sharing our home. The Humans went away, back to Earth. We thought all was well. We thought they had lost interest and gone elsewhere, so we continued with our existence. The Human need for exploration is not ours. But the Humans did return, nearly a full cycle later. And with them they brought war.” Roelle looked to Sarrin. “Yes?”
Soundlessly, Sarrin nodded, her mind reeling.
“Their army attacked, but our warriors were stronger, faster. We fought them off, sent them running for their starships. They returned again, bringing with them firepower and machinery that was more than we could hope to match. The forest burned. Our warriors were strong, but the singular mind of the Humans was bent on our destruction, and that carried them. We lost hundreds of villages, thousands of our population. We thought surely it was over, surely that was it.”
Roelle stopped, staring into the black skeleton forest that now towered around them. After a moment, she turned to Sarrin. “And yet we knew they had not killed all the warriors that we lost. Some of them were captured, taken for experiments. We didn’t understand why. This is not our way, to prolong the killing. It should be swift, precise, merciful.” Her hooded eyes stared at Sarrin, waiting to see if she understood the implication.
She nodded in response, though it was truly too overwhelming to say whether she understood or not.
“We did not understand it until the day that you arrived and the guard read your memories. We knew then that you had been made to destroy the Uruhu. You are part Uruhu and part Human, yes. You have our strength and speed — Urubane has seen it in you. Through some trickery, our blood flows in your veins. Human and Uruhu. Our strength. Their destruction. You, Sarrin, have the ability to destroy us all, to be rid of the Uruhu forever. Yes?”
Sarrin’s blood — Uruhu or Human — ran cold. No, no, no, she wanted to scream. But she could see that she could destroy them, the same as she could see the picture of war Roelle painted for her, the same as she could see that what Roelle spoke was truth: their blood, her veins; the same and yet different. Connected.
The edges of her vision grew dark. She was a monster. Well and truly. Designed of destruction, born of destruction, and ripe to wreak destruction. Hours spent in training simulators, Guitteriez’s maniacal push to understand, to see how far her abilities extended, it all started to come together. Her Path.
The Central Army and its Speakers had a problem: an alien race — professed to never have existed at all — slept on their doorstep. The stories of the Gods would all be found false. And the Army would crumble.
A growl started deep in Sarrin’s chest, a deep seated reflex to make Omega all of her target points. She had been made for destruction.
She saw herself in the city. Watched as the monster destroyed the Uruhu on the rooftop, throwing Urubane’s lifeless corpse to the ground. But the monster didn't stop there, it killed the folk in the central square, their flashes of blue marred by red. Even the colourful woman from the cafe died by her hands, eyes wide with fear. She saw herself climb the tall Speakers’ Tower, saw herself leap inside it, a rabid, snarling monster.
She was both Human and Uruhu, and at the same time, neither. She would destroy them both.
People don’t always need to become what they are told to be, Roelle’s crystal clear voice cut through the violent machinations of her mind.
The darkness cleared. Roelle’s hand pressed against her forehead, soothing. “You are powerful, yes, but these thoughts are not yours. Your gifts are untrained, and this is dangerous to you moreso than it is to anyone else. You lack the control even our young children are capable of, and you get swept away in the slightest current. There is much work to do.”
Before Sarrin could object, Roelle took her hand, filling her with warm images and a sensation she hadn't felt in years: hope. "You are still Human. You are still Uruhu. Let yourself take the best of both. You have the power to destroy, but also the power to save. Yes?"
Sarrin stared, speechless.
With a reassuring squeeze, Roelle led her by the hand to a nearby boulder, making her sit, and began to show her how to control all the gifts of her mind.
FIFTEEN
KIERAN RUBBED THE DRY, CRACKED skin on his arm gingerly, buying himself a minute of relief. According to the message he’d received from the Observer ship, the return pod that would give him his ride home would appear in three hours. Three hours to break his dependence on the gel tank.
It wouldn't be pleasant, but if he missed the pod, it would be another hundred-and-fifty years, Earth-time, before they came back through the system. He needed to find some kind of painkiller he could take with him.
; The doors to the Infirmary opened, and he found the tall doctor hunched in the corner, head bent over a series of lab samples. “Hey, Hoepe.”
Hoepe glanced grimly at the timepiece built into the display without looking at Kieran. “You’re early.”
“By a few minutes.”
Hoepe grunted again. “Find a bed. I have to finish this.”
“Bedside manner’s improvin’, hey?” Kieran flashed a grin, though the doctor didn’t turn back.
Kieran picked his way through the maze of occupied hospital beds. They had rescued over two hundred Augments, but nearly half of them were still unconscious. A dark shudder rolled across his shoulders, the dry skin pinching. Three of the Augments had died, despite the doctors and Cordelia doing all they could.
The Central Army had just left them to die, tortured and trapped and abandoned them to rot. Thrown away like garbage.
It could have been Sarrin.
He swung himself onto an empty cot, his too dry skin stinging as he stretched and shifted, and he let out an involuntary gasp.
One of the rescued settlers — looking much more sane now that Hoepe's vitamin and mineral cocktail had started to take effect — looked up from the bed opposite his, acknowledging him with a quick, close-lipped smile to hide the gaps where some of her teeth had fallen out. The settlers too had been tossed onto barely habitable planets, like the scrap that littered Junk, no longer useful and hidden away.
His heart pounded as he recalled the savage woman lunging at him across the shuttle bay, but he forced a smile, just like his mama always told him to do. “You’re lookin’ better.”
She dropped her gaze to the floor, and ran a hand through her patchy hair.
He should ask her more, question her about her experience, gather data for the Observers, but it seemed so much harder now. When he’d first arrived, he’d hoped for something interesting to happen, eager for adventure and to have an exciting report when he returned to the Observer ship. But now… God, it was just all too real.
Leove arrived, flashing Kieran a quick smile before turning his attention to the woman. The air around her shimmered as an invisible barrier was dropped and he stepped inside. Apparently Cordelia still felt it prudent to fix a wall around them in case of violent outbursts. He checked her reflexes and drew a sample of blood from the crook of her elbow, disappearing to the lab at the far end of the room. The invisible barrier sealed once more with an audible pop, and she sighed, dropping her head into her hands.
“Hey,” he said, “Leove’s a good doc, he’ll have you fixed up in no time.”
Her eyes lifted for the briefest moment, her mouth open ready to speak, before her gaze fell to the floor once more.
Hoepe appeared at Kieran’s side, his expression dour as always. “Your skin looks dry. When was the last time you were in the regen-tank?”
Kieran shook his head. “Cordelia is busy,” he lied. “I’m fine.”
Hoepe frowned at him, raising a single, displeased eyebrow.
“I can’t sit in that tank all day. I’m goin’ cray-cray.”
Hoepe quirked an eyebrow at his choice of words, but otherwise silently ran a handheld scanner over his torso. “Avoiding the regen-tank is delaying your healing.”
“Cordelia won’t be here forever.” Kieran squirmed, more like he wasn’t going to be here forever. “I won’t always have access to the tank whenever I need it. I have to build up my tolerance to the real world again.” In the next three hours.
The perpetual frown on Hoepe’s face seemed to lighten as he gauged Kieran. “I concur.” He typed something into his data tablet. “Your cardiovascular and musculoskeletal systems are looking improved. It is time to start weaning yourself from medical supports.”
“Really?”
“You expected me to say something different?”
“No, but…. Well, yeah, I did, Doc.”
A hint of a smile softened Hoepe’s features, and he reached a hand out to Kieran’s shoulder. “We anticipate returning to Etar within a week. I expect you will demand to go to the surface.”
Etar. Right.
Kieran swallowed heavily. “We’re still on our way to Hation 6, right?”
“Yes. And Selousa. However, we don’t have any leads on additional facilities or any way to know if these are the only ones.” The doctor sighed, his massive shoulders caving in. “I fear we may leave some behind.”
“Me too.” He felt a pang of guilt for not knowing. But in three hours, he’d be leaving. There was nothing he could do about the rest. He’d have to find out what happened through newsfeeds and broken up communiques. Maybe Cordelia could send him a message to let him know how it all turned out.
“I need to test a sample of your dermis,” Hoepe said.
“My what!” Kieran yelped as Hoepe pressed a tool into his shoulder, taking a bite of his fragile skin.
“A skin sample.” Hoepe held up a chunk of tissue. “I wish to determine how fragile your skin is.”
“Well it sure hurts,” Kieran said, reaching up to hold the gauze. Jesus. The biopsy site hurt, but it left a cascade of pain shooting across his skin, the nerve endings buzzing like they were still on fire. “Can you give me some meds or something?” Something he could take with him, hopefully.
“An analgesic? I thought you wished to wean yourself completely from the medical supports.”
“You just took a chunk out of me!” Kieran started, but he noticed the faint smirk in Hoepe’s eyes and the doctor lifted an auto-injector to his neck and pressed, the warm sensation of the drug soothing his pain all at once. “Your sense of humour isn’t getting any better, Doc.”
Hoepe flashed an actual smile. “Wait here while I examine the sample.”
“Sure thing.”
But Hoepe paused, the muscles in his broad back clenching as he stared at the lab bench. “On second thought, I’ll wait here a moment.”
“Why?” Kieran leaned over to peer around the doctor. He caught sight of the problem immediately: Leove had his arms wrapped around Isuma, both of them smiling as he murmured something into her ear. “Oh.”
“I fail to understand the purpose of their closeness,” Hoepe said. His back was still turned to him, but Kieran saw the droop in his shoulders.
He sighed in sympathy. “Beats me, Doc. People don’t do that where I come from.”
Together, they watched Hoepe and Isuma. “I will admit she has proven to be a helpful assistant for him, their communication concise and efficient — she had been an excellent asset in our recent medical crises.”
“Ah,” agreed Kieran. There was something about their intimacy, the happy glint in Leove’s eyes, that stirred something in him, and made him think, inexplicably, of Sarrin. “I saw a couple’a older kids do something like that once, on the shi— the place where I’m from. Mom told me no to worry ‘bout it, it could only complicate matters.”
“Agreed.” Hoepe grunted. “I have occasionally found Leove distracted. Primarily when her safety status is unknown.”
“Yeah.” But Kieran found it difficult to take his eyes away. Sarrin’s safety status was unknown.
Leove turned, pressing his lips to Isuma’s hairline, and started towards them. Hoepe jerked his scanner up, pretending to run it down Kieran’s arm, as Leove rejoined the settler-woman. He spoke quietly with her, showing her rest results on his data-tablet.
Kieran watched him curiously. What was it Leove knew that he and Hoepe didn’t? Despite their identical features, Leove always seemed lighter, happier than his twin.
“Kieran?” Leove interrupted his thoughts, and he was surprised the doctor was standing in front of him. Hoepe had retreated to the lab.
“Yeah, doc?”
“Are there still high density protein rations?”
“Yep. We picked up some new stores from the last planet.”
“Would you mind taking Adeina to retrieve some for her and the other settlers? I believe their digestive systems are ready to handle something mor
e substantial.”
“Is she okay?” Kieran asked the doctor, the woman’s gaze dancing between him and the floor. He couldn't shake the memory of the woman lunging at him in the shuttle hangar, banging against the barrier Cordelia hastily constructed between them.
Leove shrugged. “She is much improved. And Cordelia seems to have perfected the protective barriers, should the need arise."
He plastered a grin on his face, jumping down from the bed. “Sure thing, Doc.” He was still on a mission of observation, for the next few days anyway.
“Thanks, Kieran.”
Leove turned to the girl, tapping her on the arm. “Adeina, this is Kieran, he’s going to take you for some food.”
She folded her hands in close and nodded — a gesture that reminded him terribly of Sarrin and made something in his chest ache.
Leove flashed him a thankful smile before moving to another patient on another bed.
“Hi," said Kieran, turning on his friendliest smile. The barrier shimmered away between them. “Well, come on. Leove wants you to have some protein rations.”
Keeping her gaze cast down, she shuffled off the bed and followed him from the infirmary.
“Are you going to tell me the story?” she asked.
Surprised to hear her speak, he looked back. She gestured at his skin, and he grimaced. “Our last ship exploded. We were trying to get it far away enough from everyone, and I stayed too long.” In hindsight, it had been a terribly stupid thing to do. A good Observer wouldn’t have interfered, would have let the rest of the crew deal with it, but in the moment, it hadn’t even crossed his mind.
She was quiet a moment, nodding and running her tongue over the gaps in her teeth. “I know a thing or two about sacrifice.”
Reaching the storage room where they kept the rations and medicine they had raided from the abandoned facilities, Kieran pressed the control to open the doors. He waited for Adeina to follow him through the open door before letting it shut.
He opened a small crate and pulled out the standard-issue ration bars. “What do you like? Lychee or Strawberry? Frankly, none of them taste like the real thing. Or there’s something called Landenfruit — I don’t even know what that is.”
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