Bridge Beyond Her World

by Brandon Barr

  “Know this,” said Karience. “The Guardians have many safeguards in place to keep the Shadowmen out. There are deep psychological tests that have to be passed to enter into our order. In order to slip by those, a Shadowman would have to be a master of disguising their emotions and hiding their agenda. The amount of training and mental control they would have had to undergo is frightening. They would have learned to lie as smoothly as if it were the truth. Essentially, they would be two persons, and you and I are seeing only one of them.

  “It is yet unprecedented for a Shadowman to be found in our order. But I believe it is only a matter of time until one of them slips through. And that time may have passed.”

  _____

  PIKE

  Pike sat on the floor of his room and stared out at the stars just beginning to shine, the sun’s glow now only a faint purple in the west.

  He wished his family were alive. Distant memories of his father and mother brought both joy and sadness. And Harvest, his adorable sister, how he wished he could tousle her hair and tease her about her field tunic being too big for her. Those days were gone. But gone in a way that left him feeling empty. What had happened to his family?

  Killed, he knew, but how? The pain of searching for that answer was too much, and he stopped as tears began to fill his eyes. He didn’t need to know. Everything within him told him it was better not to remember, and the moment he turned his mind away from the question, he felt immense relief.

  But something else bothered him. He could barely recall his trip to Zoecara’s world. Only a single image came to mind now as he sat in his room. A bald-headed woman with thin, emotionless lips hovering over him. He was lying flat on his back looking up at her. And beyond her sleek, hairless head was a dim-lit sky with an odd ochre glow. That was all he could retrieve. His memory of the Bridge world was intact, so how come he couldn’t remember Birth?

  Pike closed his eyes. Something felt off in his mind. It was like a barrier blocking his path. He tried to call up other memories, like how he’d become a Guardian.

  Nothing.

  In fact, he couldn’t even remember what he’d been trying to remember. What had he been thinking about?

  He sighed, frustrated. It was something important, he was sure of it. He searched for the thought he’d lost, and found his mind turning to his life before the Guardians. He remembered so little. He had a vague notion of the land baron being cruel, but he couldn’t recall his name. Nor could he remember much of Aven and Winter, except for childhood memories. Laughter and jokes. They had been friends back then, especially him and Aven.

  Pike smiled, recalling some of the jokes they had shared together. But there was a big gap between their childhood and who they were now. Pike thought that the farm work must have taken precedence as they grew older. Yes, lots of field work. That was the memory that filled his mind mostly when he thought of his upbringing.

  Aven had changed a lot. He certainly didn’t seem to appreciate Pike’s sense of humor anymore, and that bothered Pike. He had liked Aven as a child, and he hoped to continue that friendship here, now that they found themselves together again.

  Pike stood, a sense of purpose filling his heart. He needed to talk to Aven. Apologize to him. Try and rekindle that old friendship from their distant past—if even only a little.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  ZOECARA

  “You’re sure the ship will be here?” said Zoecara, her breath frosting in the air as she rubbed her arms against the cold. She stood in one of Dheeg Sar’s many underground cellars. The cellar contained hundreds of ice blocks, on which were piled the carcasses of lambs, hogs, cows, goats.

  And three humans.

  The ice shop was a front, a perfect cover for a mercenary from a world outside the Guardian’s clutches. Sell ice and offer a cold room as a temporary morgue where bodies could be kept. How else could one preserve the three former Emissaries and the valuable VOKKs within their heads on a primitive world?

  A single candle flickered upon a corpse lying on a dissection table with its head splayed open, the brains bulging out like a strange fungus. Zoecara looked distastefully and then turned back to Dheeg Sar.

  “The ship will come,” said Dheeg Sar. “Nightfall, two days from now.” He looked at her intensely. “Do you have the disrupter?”

  Dheeg Sar bore deep lines under his wide-set eyes. A pale crimson glow from the candle lit the mercenary’s face.

  Zoecara took a small, circular device from a pouch slung around her neck. “Picked it up just three days ago. The Empyrean allowed me to accompany one of the new Emissaries on his first portal jump.”

  “He didn’t suspect anything?”

  Zoecara laughed confidently. “My master runs a tidy civilization. The Guardians suspect nothing; my world has been chartered for nearly a thousand years. Your merchandise is safe with me. You worry about getting the ship here precisely on time and on location. I’ll take care of my part.”

  Dheeg Sar scowled. “As long as we get the additional VOKKs. Three of them.”

  “I said two or three,” said Zoecara. “I can’t guarantee the third.” It was a strategic lie. If her plan went smoothly, he would have seven VOKKs.

  Dheeg Sar’s hand seized her tunic and shoved her up against the cold stone wall. She let him, resisting the urge to twist his unsuspecting neck until it popped. Or drive his nose up into his brain. Or ram her knee in his balls and drive the knife in her sleeve in past his ribs. Or—

  She could have killed him ten different ways but, instead, she merely gasped as if surprised.

  He glared at her, teeth clenched. “I’ve been stuck on this primworld for thirty-one years, waiting for this day. If you want the Guardian Tower here on Loam turned into a molten crater, you will deliver three more VOKKs.”

  “Three,” repeated Zoecara, a slight trembling to her voice. “I promise. Three VOKKs.”

  Dheeg Sar set her on the ground.

  “I need to go,” said Zoecara. “I won’t fail you. Don’t fail me.”

  Outside, Zoecara took off down the alley at a run. The royal streets were nearly deserted. She found the shadowed corner where she’d hidden her pack and slipped out of her street clothes and back into her clean white Guardian attire. Ahead rose the Guardian Tower. Quickly, she passed into the courtyard, where a pair of Royal guards took one look at her and greeted her by name. She winked and flashed them a playful smile.

  Inside, she took the lift to the tenth floor where the living quarters were, and quickly discovered Rueik was not in his room.

  She took the lift up a floor and checked the recreation center. Empty. The kitchen was dark.

  The lift took her to the twelfth floor. Where was everyone? In the training room?

  The lights clicked on as she jogged down the hall. The large glass windows of the training room were already lit. Someone was in there. The door silently opened for her.

  “Zoecara, you’re late to the festivities,” said Rueik. “We have a new Missionary.”

  Zoecara glanced at the faces. All the Missionaries were present, and the three new Emissaries. “What are you talking about?”

  “Winter is joining Arentiss and I,” said Rueik. “Karience is going to let her train for possible Missionary duty.”

  The way Rueik made the pronouncement with such exuberance gave Zoecara pause. Was he developing feelings for the farm girl?

  Zoecara put on a look of happy surprise. “And the Magnus agreed?”

  “It’s pending,” said Hark. “We were just showing her the new vid from Hare 5.”

  “Welcome aboard, Winter,” said Zoecara with a smirk. “Don’t let the boys show you Hare 4. Hare 5 citizens breed like rabbits. Hare 4, they skin you like rabbits.”

  Winter raised her eyebrows. “Turn it on. I can handle it.”

  “Uggh, I can’t,” said Daeymara. “Way to kill the mood, Zoecara.” Daeymara threw something at Zoecara, and she caught it. “Here. You can have these now.”

 
Zoecara looked at the wrapped thing in her hands. “Chocolate Alenuts?” She threw the wrapped delicacy at Rueik. “You eat them. My blood stream is already bubbling with aphrodisiacs.”

  The other Missionaries laughed, while the Emissaries looked confused. Zoecara watched their VOKKs process the interchange. Slowly, all three confused faces turned into forced, accommodating smiles.

  Prudes, she thought, just like Rueik. It was better that way. The prim, moralistic types were so much easier to influence, so much more predictable. For Zoecara, everything was coming together better than expected. It would be easy to get all three to the pickup location. They didn’t suspect a thing. Not even Pike. He was the one she was most concerned about. The Mind Scry on her home world who implanted the controller in his mind swore she’d bypassed the commands of Pike’s VOKK. If the Scry was right, Pike would be a tool in her hands. But if she’d made a mistake…

  Judging by the way Pike’s cheeks flushed at her aphrodisiac joke, he clearly didn’t remember his experiences with his daddy’s whores.

  Zoecara had managed to hack into the personnel profiles in Karience’s office. All but Winter’s, which had a higher security profile. She couldn’t understand why. Winter seemed too ordinary and uninteresting to have such a high security profile. It was very strange that she was being allowed to join the Missionaries. On top of that, she and Karience had disappeared for several hours on Bridge. During that time something serious had happened—Zoecara had read it on both their faces. Was it something she needed to worry about?

  Two more days, and the young woman wouldn’t be a problem. Two more days, and the entire facility would be a smoking hole in the ground and Winter’s VOKK would be in Dheeg Sar’s hands.

  Everyone had turned back to watch a new vid. Mother 11, a favorite because of its beautiful landscape and welcoming people. It was a simple, ideal mission.

  Zoecara put her hand warmly on Rueik’s shoulder. “We need to talk,” she whispered.

  As soon as the door slid shut, and they were alone, Rueik leaned back against the hallway. “Cara, I think we’re wrong about them.”

  “You have no basis for that conclusion.”

  “Listen to me. They seem completely normal.”

  “Of course they do!” said Zoecara, “What do you expect Shadowmen to act like? Drooling? Mumbling death threats to those who oppose the Beast?”

  “Cara, I’m not convinced they are Shadowmen. And I have the means to prove it.”

  He held out his hand. In it was a small ring with a smooth silvery device no larger than a child’s fingernail.

  “It’s the mind probe,” he said. “I borrowed it from Alael.”

  Zoecara forced herself to put on a pleased face, but inside she was furious. He had never taken a risk like that before. Was he that confident she was wrong? How did the documents she’d artfully doctored have so little effect on him?

  She took a step and closed the space between them. “Wonderful, darling,” she said sweetly. “We can get Pike alone—look into his past and see if Aven and Winter are who they claim to be, if they are there at all. I’ll slip something in a drink that will put him out. Then you look into his memory and see for yourself. We can be sure that way.”

  When she had taken Pike to her world, the Mind Scry had sectioned his memories and created a third history. There now lived inside him three alternate selves. One Pike was the original, the one that Alael had locked away. The second was the Pike that Alael created. The one whose childhood remained intact but whose adolescence was erased and replaced so that he would not hate Aven and Winter. The third Pike was the Mind Scry’s creation. It was designated as the true but hidden self. It was a Pike who would do anything and everything she told him to, even kill. If Rueik looked inside, he would see all three of these. He would then know that she was a Shadowman herself.

  This, she could not allow. She had to stay in control. Get him to agree to do it with her. She could buy time then.

  Rueik’s eyes avoided hers.

  “If I’m wrong, then I’m wrong,” said Zoecara, successfully bringing his gaze up to her face. Her eyes were sullen, as if saying, don’t be cross with me, and she pouted her lips to give her face a bit of playfulness. Normally, it would have had a softening effect on him. It didn’t.

  She pressed her body against his, tenderly placing her hands on his chest. “Together, we can find out if I’m mistaken.”

  Rueik gently pushed her away. “We’ll do it. But right now, I need a little space, all right? I’ll prove to you they’re innocent, and then we can put this behind us.”

  “All right,” she said. “Then we’ll know.”

  He turned and went back through the door without another word.

  Something had changed in him. He didn’t kiss her. Didn’t want her close. She looked through the observation window into the training room. Rueik had found a seat across from Aven and Winter. As he sat, he kept looking in their direction, as if to watch their expressions as they took in the vid for the first time.

  She was quite certain she knew what was happening. It wasn’t Aven’s face his eyes returned to again and again.

  Damn. Now she knew why he was so sure Aven and Winter were innocent. He was drawn to them. Their simple morals and untainted minds were attractive to him. And Winter. She was so very unlike the persona Zoecara had chosen to pursue Rueik with.

  She had misjudged him. Most men would have been eating out of her hands. But not Rueik. The bastard wouldn’t even grope her breasts.

  He really did have her by the balls now. If he used the mind probe, he would know the truth. He’d come to realize the lies she’d told him. Without his devotion, everything she said to him could unravel.

  Two days, she consoled herself. Two days, then Rueik would be dead.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  AVEN

  The vid screen was showing an upworld called Breath 12. Its city spires reached up into the clouds and ships hovered in the sky like bees. It was their fourth clip of the night.

  There were so many worlds. Seeing the videos made what the Missionaries did so much more real. How was it possible for the Guardians to maintain control of such a vast number of worlds? Either their power was as complete—and perhaps as brutal—as he feared, or else they were more fragile than he’d first guessed.

  Either way, he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open.

  I’m tired, tapped Aven.

  I’m staying, tapped Winter.

  A part of Aven was happy for her. This was what she wanted. To go off on her god-quest…or whatever it was. Perhaps they could both be happy. Her living out there somewhere, breathing the foreign air on some dangerous errand of the Makers. And him living here, at peace, working the land on his farm when he had the time.

  He hadn’t told her about the farm yet. He hadn’t had a chance. And the way she was absorbed in the images on the screen, now was not the time. Nor was it the time to tell her about Arentiss’ friendly hand-holding. Maybe that wouldn’t matter as much as he had earlier feared.

  Aven stood from the cushioned sofa. “Goodnight, everyone.”

  A chorus of goodnights came back at him. Daeymara caught up to him as he was leaving.

  “Would you walk me back to my room?” she asked, her eyes soft and inviting.

  “Certainly,” said Aven. He glanced back at his sister, at the vid screen she was watching, then followed Daeymara through the oval doorway.

  As soon as the door shut, Daeymara grabbed his hand. A tingling heat rushed through her fingertips into his body. Then Daeymara spun with a laugh. She took her hand from his and placed it lightly on his chest.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, giggling. “I just couldn’t help myself. Arentiss is so awkward sometimes. I just wanted to see your reaction if I tried one of her hand grabs on you.”

  “Well,” said Aven, feeling flushed. “I hope I didn’t disappoint you.”

  Daeymara looked at him with one eye, the other obscured by the stra
ight-cut hair that stopped at the side of her mouth. Her eye was full of vigorous light. “No! It was perfect.”

  “So do the others know about her hand-holding?” asked Aven.

  “Virtually nothing is unknown about Arentiss. The woman says exactly what she thinks. She tried to hold Rueik’s hand when she first arrived. Rueik had to tell her he was taken already. Poor woman is desperate, and now you’re the only single guy close to her age to go after. Has she tried anything else on you?”

  “No,” said Aven. “What do you mean, ‘try anything else?’”

  “I’ll leave that up to your imagination,” said Daeymara with a stilted laugh. “Trust me, that girl’s as sexually pent-up as a corked bottle of wine. Vintage and unopened, if you know what I mean.”

  A picture of Arentiss appeared Aven’s his mind. Her petite nose and mouth. Her sharp eyes, always so serious. But her face changed when she held his hand, the sharp edges dropping off. The thought of it made him smile.

  Daeymara pressed the button for the lift, and the door swooshed open. He followed her inside. She stepped close to him, her shoulder touching his arm slightly. Her fingers brushed against the side of his hand, then lingered so close he felt their warmth on his skin.

  Was Daeymara enticing him to hold her hand? No, that didn’t make sense. She had just been making light of Arentiss for this…or was her laughter only at Arentiss’ awkwardness?

  The lift door opened, and Daeymara’s finger brushed against his as she exited. Aven felt desire well up inside him, but accompanying it was a cacophony of conflicting emotions. This was not how girls behaved where he came from. Daeymara barely knew him. How could she be so…confident about him? Was this how her culture initiated interest? By this physical touch? Perhaps she intended to talk to him about her feelings, now that she had him alone.

  “So,” said Aven. “Which way to your room?”