Awen’s door chimed, and the speaker emitted a thin voice. “It’s Ezo.”
Awen sighed, reached for the towel, and pressed the open button with her elbow.
“How you feeling?” he asked.
“I’d rather not answer that right now, Ezo. But thank you for asking.”
“Fair enough, fair enough. So, where do you want to go, Star Queen?”
Awen massaged her eyelids, wishing someone else would answer the question for her. The truth was, she had no idea. And somehow, she felt Magnus might know where to go next.
“I really just want to go to bed,” she said, to which Ezo raised an eyebrow. “By myself.” She wasn’t sure how much more of this character she could take. I know where I want to go: as far away from him as possible. But seeing that Ezo was her only viable means of transportation, ditching him didn’t seem like the most prudent option.
Awen took a deep breath and threw the towel into the sink. “You said we’re headed to deep space, right? So let’s start there.”
“The farthest sector of the Omodon quadrant,” Ezo said. “There shouldn’t be any traffic to speak of, so we’ll be able to spot a tail if anyone is following us.”
“You think someone is following us?”
“No, but we try to take precautions.”
Awen nodded. “Smart. And if someone is following us?”
“Well, outer Omodon is home to some fairly unsavory systems that may or may not be easily stirred up if a reputable bounty hunter were to advertise that a certain vessel had a very high price on its hull.”
“That’s convenient,” she replied. “Too bad we don’t know any reputable bounty hunters.”
“Hey, you don’t know Ezo,” the man said, pressing a hand to his chest. “You just give him a bad rap because he got mixed in with the likes of Abimbola over a bad poker-chip flip. Ezo’s a really nice guy, though.”
“I’m sure he is,” Awen said. “And let’s just keep it at that. Nice Guy Ezo.”
“Yeah, Nice Guy Ezo. That’s me.” He brushed a hand through his hair. “So, you ever going to open that stardrive?”
That was the question that everyone seemed to have in common. And the truth was, Awen wanted to know what was on it, too—now more than ever. Who knew what So-Elku would have done to her if she’d resisted him further. Or what he would have done after she opened it. Awen shuddered to think of that. She only hoped that Willowood was all right. The elder had risked her reputation to save Awen without needing any explanation. Perhaps she even risked her life.
More questions tugged at Awen’s mind, and she knew her fatigue wasn’t going to produce cogent answers. There was still the matter of the bombs themselves. Who’d set them, and what did they hope to accomplish with so much destruction? And then there was the hover bot that had recorded the mwadim handing her the stardrive. It seemed as if someone had expected the handoff—and as if an informant had ratted on the mwadim.
More than anything, Awen wanted to know why she had been the one whom the Jujari leader had entrusted with whatever was on the drive. Was it a matter of mere convenience? If someone else had landed next to him, would he have handed it to them just as easily? Maybe there was something unique about her, perhaps because she was a Luma. But if that was the case, why not dispense with negotiations and set up a private meeting? The Luma would have jumped at the chance to entertain a private meeting with the distinguished, though violent, Jujari leader.
The questions were too much for her to handle, at least at the moment. She was tired of thinking, tired of trying to figure out how all the puzzle pieces went together. It felt like playing chess in the dark without hands.
Still, somewhere in the back of her mind, Awen felt like the mwadim had chosen her, intentionally singling her out as the one to inherit the stardrive. “Guard it,” he’d charged her with his dying breath. “Never let them find it.” There had been something earnest in the way he spoke to her, as if they were old confidants sharing a secret. He’d wanted to speak to her and no one else.
But then Awen found herself asking another question. When the mwadim charged me with guarding the device, did he mean the stardrive or what was on the stardrive? If it had been about keeping the device hidden, that secret was out. But if it was about what was on that drive, then… she couldn’t know how to protect it unless she knew what it was.
She needed to open the stardrive, and sooner rather than later. If So-Elku and others were coming for her, as they most likely were, then she could only protect the contents of the drive in one of two ways: either she learned about what she was guarding before they could, or she died. Of course, there was always a third alternative—So-Elku could force her to reveal the contents and then kill her.
I’ll give him neither option. “I’m going to open the stardrive,” she said.
Ezo’s eyes went wide, and he clapped his hands. “Yes! Yes, you are! Let’s do this!” He spun around. “Ninety-Six, where are you?”
“Wait, what are you doing?” Awen asked.
“TO-96 is a navigation bot. Did you forget already?”
“No, I—”
“Whatever that thing shows you, whatever intel or coordinates—Ninety-Six! Get out here!—whatever reward in the labyrinth awaits you, he’ll know how to get you there.”
“I suppose that is helpful.”
“Of course it is! Ninety-Six!”
“Coming, sir,” the bot said as his footfalls shuffled down the corridor moments before he appeared. “I was simply making sure that—”
“Never mind that. Awen’s going to open the stardrive.”
“The stardrive? How exciting for her.”
“For her?” Ezo asked, shooting the bot a surprised look. “Yes—quite so.” The bounty hunter walked over to the table in the middle of the room and cleared it for Awen. “Please, take a seat.”
Awen approached the table while reaching for the stardrive in the satchel. She sat to one side while Ezo sat across from her, and TO-96 stood between them.
“Ninety-Six, please lower the lights,” Ezo said.
“As you wish, sir.” Instantly, the lights dimmed, and only the floors emitted their constant white glow.
Awen held the gray cylinder in her right hand, examining it. Its irregular surface and many indentations held dried blood that was now brown and flaking. It was heavier than it looked, something she hadn’t noticed before. Or maybe her hand was just tired; it was shaking a little, after all.
In a strange way, she wished the mwadim was here to open this with her, to explain why he’d given it to her and what was so important about it. It would be like a professor leading a student through an assignment or a cherished text. Then she thought of her parents, who would marvel that their daughter would be entrusted with such a prized possession from a world leader. But they have no use for other worlds. She thought of Willowood and what her wise guidance might mean in a moment like this. And finally, she thought of Magnus. She missed his… His what? His strength? His ability to protect me? But she was able to protect herself even more than he was, and she was stronger than even his Republic armor. Still, she wished Magnus was present for reasons she could not explain.
In the end, however, she was alone. Yes, Ezo and TO-96 were with her, but this was not their burden to carry or their battle to fight. Awen was alone, and no one else had been entrusted with this device but her.
Awen placed her thumb on top of the button. She let her mind move back to the dais once again, the horrible memories flooding her senses. The smell of smoke, of burning flesh. The ringing in her ears, the muted screams of the dying. The taste of blood in her mouth, the excruciating pain in her body. And the mwadim.
“Here goes nothing.” Awen pressed down on the button, and the micro-needle punctured her skin.
22
Awen placed the stardrive on the table and sucked the blood from her thumb. The device started to glow and then separated with a metallic click, splitting lengthwise. From a bright ce
ntral core, the drive emitted a blue holo-projection above the table, a scene that swirled about like a flurry of light snow. Eventually, thousands of blue pinpoints of light resolved into a three-segmented symbol.
Awen, Ezo, and TO-96 leaned in. “What is it, Ninety-Six?” Ezo asked.
“Searching,” the bot replied, his head tilting back and forth as he scanned the three-dimensional image.
Awen found the symbol fascinating. Two opened-ended arches connected at the apexes like chain links, their four ends tapering to points. Bisecting the horizontal plane was a ring that seemed to lock the arches in place. The collection of three shapes slowly rotated over the table, casting blue light on everyone’s faces.
“I’ve never seen it before,” Awen said, wondering at the symbol’s meaning.
“Neither has Ezo,” the smuggler said.
“And neither have I,” TO-96 said. “In fact, this symbol is not listed on any of the Galactic Republic’s records and does not match symbology for any known sentient species.”
“Seriously?” Ezo asked. “I thought you knew everything about everything.”
“Everything is a relative word, sir.”
“Really? Because the way I use it, it’s not.”
Awen looked at the bot. “Wait, so you’re saying it’s not from our galaxy, then?”
“Not conclusively, Awen. The galaxy is, after all, a very big place.”
“Or maybe it’s a secret order or something,” Ezo added. TO-96 looked at him. “You know, like a conspiracy group, an off-the-books Repub hit squad, something like that.”
TO-96 tilted his head. “I don’t think so, sir.”
Suddenly indignant, Ezo placed his hands on his hips. “And why not?”
“For one, I already have a record of all known galactic conspiracy groups and kill teams, known or supposed.”
“Wait—you do?” Ezo asked.
“Secondly, those groups don’t go around placing their locations on stardrives. We already know where most of their headquarters are.”
“Wait, wait—you know that too? How am I just now discovering this? How is Ezo just now discovering this?” Ezo looked at Awen, who shrugged. “Ninety-Six, it’s like we don’t even know each other anymore.”
“What can I say, sir? Like a woman, I’m a mystery you’ll never fully unravel.”
Awen beamed. “Well said, Ninety-Six.”
“Thank you, Awen.”
Ezo was incredulous, his mouth hanging open.
Awen returned to the symbol in front of them, studying it carefully.
“What does it do next?” Ezo asked.
“I’m not sure, sir,” TO-96 replied. “My sensors are not showing any activation functions beyond what Awen has already initiated.”
“So that’s it, then? It’s just some random symbol?”
“It’s not a symbol,” Awen offered. “Well, not just a symbol. Symbols imply a shared meaning between two parties. But I’m assuming whoever coded this drive didn’t expect anyone to receive it who knew them already.”
“Why do you say that?” Ezo asked.
“Because not even TO-96 here knows this symbol. Which means this little drive is either a long way from home or—”
“Whoever made it wanted it to get into someone else’s hands,” Ezo concluded.
“Exactly.”
“So, any ideas about what it might be?”
“Maybe,” she said, reaching for the three components. “I wonder if it’s a puzzle. A key of some sort.” She grasped the circle, her hands closing around the light, and twisted it slightly like someone might loosen a stick caught between rocks. Then she maneuvered the arches individually so that they slid out from one another. As soon as the three elements were separated, the arches rotated and embraced the circle with their apexes to the far left and right sides of the new shape, resembling a planet with a ringed debris field. Then a swirl of small lights emerged in the center of the circle, forming a tiny cluster.
“It’s a star system,” Ezo said. The three of them watched as the system of little lights grew so large that it overtook the symbol.
“And one there’s no record for,” TO-96 concluded.
“Wait,” Ezo said. “You seriously haven’t seen this one before?”
“Sir,” the bot said, his eyes scanning the swirl of lights, “I am ninety-nine percent sure that no one has a record of this.”
Awen studied the cluster of lights, looking closely at each planet. “Someone clearly coded this drive with great care. The detail is incredible.” She moved her body left and right, up and down. “You’re documenting this, right, Ninety-Six?”
“Every millisecond, yes, Awen.”
“Good, because—hold on. There,” she said, pointing to the fourth planet. “It looks habitable.” Her finger no sooner touched the sphere than it expanded to fill the holo-projection. The planet looked like a perfect terrestrial class-four world, capable of propagating carbon-based life. Continents of green floated in large bodies of blue, and two white caps adorned the poles.
Suddenly, the second symbol appeared on the planet’s surface, its diamond and two arches centering on a coast near the equatorial line.
“A capital, perhaps,” TO-96 offered.
“That’s what I was thinking,” Awen said.
“Let’s get this straight,” Ezo interjected. “You’re saying that a star system that no one knows about has a habitable planet with a capital city that just so happens to be marked on this stardrive. And that’s because…”
“Because someone wants us to find it,” Awen answered.
“Haven’t you seen the holo-movies?” Ezo said with his hands in the air. “These types of stories never end well. It’s why we pay lots of credits to watch them—because seeing someone else get vaporized is much more rewarding than seeing Ezo get vaporized.”
“Well,” Awen said, “think of it this way. If the Order wants this stardrive, and we have to assume the Republic wants this star drive, then whatever it leads to must be pretty important.”
“Important enough to stay away from,” Ezo added.
“Important enough to be very expensive,” Awen corrected. “Making whoever finds it very, very rich.”
Ezo’s mouth froze open, and the two of them stared at each other. Gotcha.
“You know,” Ezo said, crossing his arms and stroking his chin, “Ezo’s having second thoughts about this planet. It might just be worth visiting. Ninety-Six can help Ezo avoid being vaporized. Plus, who knows? Maybe there’s a new race of pretty aliens who think Ezo’s exotic.”
“Here we go again,” TO-96 said.
“There’s just one problem,” Ezo said. “How do we get to a system no one has charted?”
“That’s a good question,” Awen answered. “And I fear that’s where we may not have enough information.”
“May I interject something?”
“Of course, TO-96,” Awen said.
The bot pointed to a small cluster of three inward-facing triangles floating beneath the planet. As soon as his finger touched them, the planet disappeared, and the stardrive began to pulse.
“What’d you do, ’Six?” Ezo asked.
“I’m not entirely sure, sir. I was hoping that the shape was a data-entry field.” The bot leaned back as the space above the table suddenly filled with text that flowed down in vertical streams. TO-96’s servos chattered as his head twitched to keep up with the code.
To Awen, the lines of data looked like a waterfall that cascaded down from a source far above them, one rivulet overlapping with others behind it. Even if the characters had meant something to her individually—which they didn’t, as the characters were completely foreign to her—she could no more tell what the message said than read a message on a holo-pad as it was tossed across a room.
“You getting this?” Ezo asked with excitement.
TO-96 did not respond, his head still stuttering in the cascading blue light.
“It’s not a rhetorical
question, ’Six!”
Still not responding, the bot jiggled, his whole body shaking in the effort. The data stream was flowing more quickly now, the characters running together in long lines.
“Ninety-Six!”
Suddenly, the blue streams of light disappeared. TO-96 froze and fell forward, catching himself on the table, Ezo holding the bot’s chest in his arms. The bot looked down at the stardrive as it returned to a steady soft glow.
“What in all the cosmos was that about?” Ezo asked, pushing the bot upright. “Are you okay, Ninety-Six?”
TO-96 looked up. “I know where it is.”
Then a new item appeared over the table. It spun slowly, taking the form of a funnel with a coordinate designation hovering beside it, written in Galactic common.
“What’d you do?” Ezo asked. “Wait, was that whole thing some sort of download or something?”
“It seems I have received a sizable amount of data, yes. Including precise coordinates.”
“To a system outside our galaxy?” Ezo asked.
“To a system outside our universe,” the bot corrected.
Ezo and Awen were stunned, looking from the holo-projection to TO-96 and back. “But… how is that possible?” Ezo asked.
“The multiverse,” Awen whispered.
“The what?” Ezo threw his hands up in the air. “Just great! Ezo’s got a bot who’s missing a piece of his head and a mystic who’s lost hers entirely.”
“Sir,” TO-96 said, “assertions about theoretical quantum states do suggest that multiple universes are not only plausible but probable.”
“Yeah, I know, I know,” Ezo said, waving the bot off. “But did you hear what you just said? Theory. None of it’s real enough for us to see what this stardrive is proposing.”
“But we’ve seen it,” Awen added.
Ezo was not entertained. He raised one eyebrow and placed his hands on the table. “You’ve seen it,” he said without enthusiasm. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Star Queen.”
“We’ve seen it,” Awen repeated, crossing her arms. “The Luma engage with these dynamics all the time. In the Unity of all things. There are more states of being than any one mind can fathom.”
Ruins of the Galaxy Box Set: Books 1-6 Page 17
