Starsight (US)

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Starsight (US) Page 32

by Brandon Sanderson


  “Unfortunately, Alanik, the game takes no care for your interest. It plays you either way.”

  “Did you know about the weapon?” I asked. “Did you know its real purpose? To send the delvers out to attack other planets?”

  “I suspected,” Cuna said. “Now I have confirmation. There are…things I must tell you, but we can’t talk here. I will send for you back on Starsight. For once, kindly respond to me. There is little time remaining.”

  They gave me one of their evil smiles—the ones that made me shiver all the way through. Hadn’t it been Cuna who told me that the humans had fallen because they tried to weaponize the delvers? What did they think about Winzik and the Superiority trying basically the same thing?

  Cuna turned to leave, and I reached for them—intending to demand answers now. Unfortunately, I was interrupted by shouting from the side of the room.

  “I will not,” Brade snapped, her voice carrying. “You shouldn’t want a picture with a monster anyway.” She threw her cup of something colorful at the wall, splashing liquid all over, then stalked out of the room.

  Scud! I darted after her, leaving the party behind. Belatedly, the drone that had led us there followed.

  I caught up to Brade at the first intersection, where she paused, obviously not knowing which way to go. Several guards nearby eyed us distrustfully—there seemed to be even more security in the hallways than usual, probably because of all the visiting dignitaries.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked her.

  “I’m wrong,” she snapped. “And they’re all wrong. I’m not some freak to gawk at.”

  I grimaced. Though I could understand the sentiment, she probably hadn’t done much to improve the reputation of humans among that crowd.

  “If you’ll come this way,” the drone operator said. “I’ve been given permission to lead you to your transport room to wait for the rest of the pilots.”

  It started off down the hallway and we followed, passing a few windows that looked out at the stars. At times, it was hard for me to remember we were on board a ship, silly as that sounded. The DDF didn’t have anything larger than a small troop transport. Ships of this size—with entire ballrooms in them—were completely outside my experience.

  I hurried alongside Brade, searching for something to say. “I know of a place,” I whispered to her, “where nobody would look at you like a freak. Where nobody would stare.”

  “Where?” she snapped. “Your homeworld? Alanik, I know about your people. Mine conquered them. I wouldn’t just be a freak there—I’d be hated.”

  “No,” I said, taking her by the arm—stopping her in the empty hallway. There seemed to be fewer patrols in this section of the ship than there normally were. Some of the guards had been moved up by the ballroom. And our guide drone was pretty far ahead.

  “Brade,” I whispered. “I can tell you have reservations about this plan.”

  She didn’t respond, but she met my eyes.

  “There are…things I can’t tell you right now,” I said. “But I promise you, I can take you somewhere you’ll be appreciated. Not hated, not feared. Celebrated. I’ll explain soon. I just want you to listen when I do, all right?”

  Brade frowned in a very human way. She might have picked up some Krell and dione mannerisms, but she’d been raised—at least as a child—by human parents.

  The guide drone called to us, and so I let go of Brade and we hurried to catch up. We passed the hallway leading to Engineering—there was still a guard posted at the intersection, unfortunately—and continued to our jump room.

  I stewed for what felt like hours but was probably about half of one—then smelled a distinctive cinnamon scent. “Are you two well?” Vapor asked. “Flight Command said they’d called you back, but wouldn’t tell me why. To them, I don’t have any real authority.”

  “We’re fine,” I said, glancing toward Brade—who had taken her customary seat in the last row, where she sat staring at the wall. “Winzik just wanted to show off some of his pilots.”

  The kitsen and Morriumur entered a short time later. “Alanik!” Kauri said, flying the platform to me, “you reached the heart!”

  “What was it like?” Hesho asked from his throne. “Bright, like a thousand sunrises experienced all at once? Dark, like the gloom of a cavern that has never seen the sky?”

  “Neither,” I said. “It was an empty room, Hesho. They don’t know what’s at the center of a real maze, so they couldn’t imitate it.”

  “How disappointing,” he said. “That’s not poetic at all.”

  “I heard,” Morriumur said, “that the high minister of the Superiority was here today, in person. Did you see them?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I wouldn’t recognize them if I did.”

  Aya, one of the kitsen gunners, launched into a story about how she’d caught a glimpse of the high minister when touring Starsight. Hesho looked pointedly unimpressed—but, well, he had been a king, so maybe high ministers were boring to him.

  I was content to let the others talk, settling down in my seat and tapping covertly on my bracelet. Status?

  Waiting and observing, the drone sent. There is movement of personnel. Based on dialogue, I believe we will soon hyperjump.

  Right. It was time, then. I just had to hope that the drone would be able to record something. I sank down into myself, pretended I was flying. I immediately saw the path home, but turned away from that. Not now. Not yet.

  I tried to reach toward this ship, the Weights and Measures. I tried to “hear” what was being said on board…It shouldn’t work. There was no reason for them to use cytonic communication to talk to other places on board the ship. And yet, voices from Engineering popped into my head.

  It felt like…someone was relaying them to me? Like someone was hearing them, then projecting them.

  All pilots are on board and personnel secured, Winzik’s voice said. Engineering, you may proceed with the hyperjump back to Starsight regional space.

  Understood, an engineer said back. I could even hear the dione accent. Preparing for hyperjump.

  Near them. Near them was a mind. Not a person though, something else. It was relaying these words. Maybe…maybe I could help make certain the drone had something to record. My presence here on the ship had interfered before with the hyperjumps. Could I make that happen on purpose? Force the crew to swap hyperdrives?

  I pressed softly against the mind I’d found. I heard a sharp cry.

  Hyperdrive malfunction, Engineering said. Bridge, we have another hyperdrive malfunction. It’s those cytonics on board. They’re creating an unconscious interference with the hyperdrives.

  Try a replacement? the bridge said.

  Loading one now. Can we do something about this? It causes so much paperwork…

  I snapped back to myself. Whatever they did worked, for we soon entered the nowhere again. Another scream. Another lurch as I was cast into that place of darkness punctured by the delver eyes. As usual, they had turned from us, and were looking toward the sound of the scream.

  Was this how the diversionary bomb worked? Superiority hyperdrives could distract the delvers, divert their attention. Perhaps the Superiority had advanced this technology to create the device that Brade had activated.

  I studied the delvers—who, more and more, were looking like tunnels of white light.

  A prickling sensation washed through me. I knew, without needing to look, that I’d been seen. One of the delvers, perhaps the same one as last time, wasn’t distracted by the scream.

  I turned and found it right beside me. I could feel its emotions. Hateful, dismissive, angry. Sensations washed through me, and I gasped. To the delver, life in my universe was nothing more than a bunch of angry gnats. Somehow, it knew I was more. It loomed over me, surrounding me, overwhelming me.

  I was going
to die. I was going to—

  I slammed back into my seat on the Weights and Measures. Aya was still telling her story to a rapt audience.

  I curled up on my seat, sweating, rattled. I’d never felt so small. So alone.

  I trembled, trying to banish the unexpected emotion. I couldn’t tell if it belonged to me or was a side effect of having seen that delver. But loneliness swallowed me.

  It was even worse than when I’d been on Detritus, training. Living in my little cave, sleeping in a cockpit while the rest of my flight ate and laughed together. Then, at least, I’d had an enemy to fight. Then, I’d had the support and friendship of the others, even if I was forced to scavenge for food.

  Here I sat in an enemy battleship, surrounded by people I’d been lying to. I thought of Hesho and Morriumur as my friends, but they would kill me in a heartbeat if they knew what I was.

  Status update, the drone suddenly sent, the words tapping out on my wrist. It is probable I have been detected.

  A set of warning alarms suddenly rang through the ship. Aya the kitsen cut off, and the rest of my flight stood up, shocked by the sudden sound.

  What? I typed to the drone. Explain!

  Before I could exit the engine room, I tripped some sort of alarm, the drone sent. Multiple engineers search. I have not escaped into the hallway. I will soon be discovered.

  Scud! Though we’d tried to remove any identifying features on the drone parts, M-Bot had little doubt that the device—if detected—could be traced back to Alanik.

  Scudscudscudscudscud.

  Orders? the drone sent to me.

  A plan popped into my mind. A terrible plan, but it was the only thing I could come up with while under so much pressure.

  Able to reach destructor pistol strapped to you?

  Yes. Service arms can reach weapon.

  Turn off safety, I sent. Remove tape. Hold pistol in front of you. Start pulling trigger.

  I expected an argument. M-Bot would have argued, but this drone wasn’t him. It wasn’t a true AI, and so could follow my instructions without thinking of the implications.

  We felt the series of blasts, small though they were, from our room. The other pilots began to murmur nervously.

  Keep shooting, I sent to the drone. Avoid being destroyed.

  Affirmative.

  The warning sirens turned frantic, and a voice piped over the PA, reverberating outside our jump room as well. “There are hostile forces in Engineering! Number unknown, but they’re firing!”

  Another set of blasts sounded from nearby. Here we go, I thought. “We’re under attack!” I shouted to the other pilots. I leaped from my seat, swinging my pack onto my shoulder. “We need to go help!” I said, throwing open the door, and scrambled out into the hallway.

  Though Morriumur sat stunned in their seat, Hesho needed no other confirmation. He shouted, “Kitsen! To arms!”

  A swarm of furry little warriors on hoverplatforms zipped out into the hallway to join me.

  “Wait!” Vapor’s voice said from the room. “I’m sure that the local guards can handle this!”

  I ignored her, barreling down the hallway. As I’d hoped, the solitary guard at the intersection to Engineering had taken cover by the wall, and was calling on her comm for backup. The Krell talked tough, but the truth was, this ship’s crew had probably never been in combat before.

  “I can help,” I said to the guard. “But I’ll need a gun.”

  Another series of blasts sounded from down the hallway. The Krell guard looked toward them, then back at me. “I can’t…I mean…”

  A part of me was really satisfied to see how her tough persona fell away once the shooting started. I waved my hand impatiently, and the guard took out her sidearm—a small destructor pistol—and handed it to me. Then she raised her larger rifle and nodded.

  “Hesho, guard this hallway,” I said. “Don’t let anything suspicious escape through it!”

  “Order confirmed!” Hesho said, and the kitsen platforms formed up like a wall behind us.

  The Krell guard, to her credit, stood up and started down the hallway. She made a sharp cutting motion with her fingers—a kind of Krell version of Here we go. Then we passed beneath the large sign on the wall proclaiming that we’d entered Engineering.

  I’d spent weeks trying to figure out a way to get down here, and I followed the guard with a rising sense of excitement. We turned down another hallway, and I was hit with the scent of lemons. Maybe a cleaning crew had been through recently? On the wall was a sign: NO NONESSENTIAL PERSONNEL ALLOWED. SECURITY CLEARANCE 1-B REQUIRED.

  The blasts were coming from a door a little farther down, but the guard stopped and turned to me.

  “You aren’t allowed in the room,” she told me. “It’s against clearance rules.”

  “Is that more important than protecting the engineering crew?”

  The guard actually gave it some thought, then said, “We should wait. Security details are up on deck four for special duty, but they should be here soon. All we need to do is make sure that whoever is in there doesn’t escape.”

  I tried to go ahead, but the guard gave me a firm gesture of forbiddance, palm out, so I settled down by the wall, holding my pistol. I set my pack on the ground. My mind was racing. How did I get the drone out of this? Any second now, this hall would flood with security guards.

  Status? I asked the drone, tapping covertly on my bracelet.

  Scientists hide, the drone said. None return fire.

  I scanned the hallway. On my mark, fly out into hall. Fire two shots up high, and don’t hit anyone. Then drop gun.

  Affirmative.

  Backpack is by wall. Quickly hide inside after dropping gun.

  Instructions understood.

  Right. I took a deep breath, then sent, Go.

  Immediately, the drone—visible only as a shimmer in the air—floated out into the hallway. It fired the destructor overhead, sending the guard to the ground with a cry of fear.

  “It’s coming for us!” I shouted. Then—right as the drone dropped the gun—I fired.

  I’d done some time in the firing ranges, but had never thought that so much would ride on being able to hit a moving target with a pistol. My first three shots missed, but I managed to hit the gun right before it hit the ground.

  The subsequent explosion was impressively large, sending out sparks and molten bits of metal. My shot detonated the pistol’s power supply. As the loud explosion washed over us, light flashing and blinding me, I dove for the Krell guard as if to shield her from the blast.

  The two of us ended up in a pile on the floor. I blinked, trying to dispel the spots the bright flash had caused in my vision. Judging by how stunned the guard looked, she had suffered something similar.

  Eventually, she shoved me off and scrambled to her feet. “What happened!”

  “A drone,” I said, pointing toward a scorched portion of the carpet. “I shot it down.”

  There was no sign of the drone itself, but the destroyed pistol had left scattered debris. Klaxons continued to go off, but the absence of further shots made the guard cautiously creep forward and inspect the burned ground.

  “Get back to your transport room,” she said.

  I was all too happy to do so, snatching up my backpack—which I was relieved to find heavy with the weight of the drone.

  The guard peeked into the engine room to check on those inside, then thought to call to me, “Leave the gun!”

  I dropped the pistol by the wall, then met up with Hesho right as a troop of six guards tromped past. One of them, a dione, hollered for us to get back into our room—but fortunately, we didn’t look too suspicious. Other pilots had gathered out in the hallway, confused by the warnings.

  We scrambled into our seats, me clutching the backpack with my contrab
and drone inside. I peeked into it, and was shocked to see the drone. Shouldn’t it be invisible?

  I quickly zipped the pack up and tapped to it: Engage lunch hologram. Version two, empty container.

  Holographic unit offline, it tapped back. Explosion damaged system.

  Sweat trickled down the sides of my face. I was exposed. If guards demanded to inspect my bag…

  Eventually, the warning klaxons turned off, and I felt the Weights and Measures dock at Starsight. My trepidation only grew. Could I find a way to stow the drone, for now, on the ship? Come back for it later?

  There wasn’t even a chance—we were ordered to make our way to the shuttle bay. I walked among a huddle of nervous pilots, noting the numerous guards in the hallways. I searched frantically for a way out, and remembered the second identity that M-Bot had programmed into my bracelet. The nondescript dione hologram.

  Could I use that now, somehow? It seemed unlikely. A mysterious dione appearing in my place would be just as suspicious. So, I slunk along, sure each step of the way that the hammer was going to fall on me. I was so focused on that, I didn’t notice the irregularity until I was almost at the shuttle bay.

  Vapor. I couldn’t smell her, and the other pilots didn’t leave an opening for her like they normally did. I entered the docking bay and waited, trying to see if I could smell her.

  A second later, she wafted across me. A sharp smell of…lemons. The same scent I’d smelled earlier, in the hallway outside of Engineering.

  She was there. In the hallway. I pulled my pack closer.

  “Vapor?” I asked.

  “Come with me,” her voice snapped. “Now.”

  I winced, and—in a panic—reached out with my mind. Maybe I could hyperjump away, then find some way to come back for…

  No, the directions to Detritus in my mind would end up with me floating out in orbit with no space suit, I was suddenly sure. I was trapped.

  “Vapor,” I said. “I—”

  “Now, Alanik.”

  I followed her scent through the room, which was actually easier than it might sound. Just as I’d worried, the guards were searching each pilot before they got onto their shuttles. An obvious precaution when a drone had been found spying here.

 

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