by AJ Super
Nyx turned to the crowd. There were others here she recognized, old crew members from the Medusa, and they were having the time of their lives with Queensmen, Officers, and royal elite.
“Nyx, mon petit papillon, it’s time to go.”
Nyx jumped as a hand wrapped around hers and dragged her toward the stairs. She glanced at her maman, dressed in her red gown, tattoo grazing her cheek, her dark hair pulled tight and draped over her shoulder.
Nyx ripped her hand from her maman’s. “What are you doing? I’m not a child. You can’t drag me away.”
Nue grabbed Nyx’s hand again and pulled her to the stairs. Captain Matthews stood in his brown leather jacket and crisp white shirt. He looked unwrinkled, un-mussed by the storm of time dilation sickness. “You have to go. Uncle Leo is going to take you somewhere safe.”
“I can take care of myself. I don’t need… Uncle Leo? Maman, how do you know Matthews?” Nyx grabbed her maman’s shoulders. “Is he? Did you infect him?”
She looked blankly at Nyx.
This wasn’t what she had said. She had said something else to her maman. The memory leaked from her head. She shook her maman’s arm. “I don’t want to go with him, maman.”
“He’s a very close friend, Nyxie. He’ll take very good care of you for me.” Nue knelt in front of Nyx, as if facing a child. Nyx knelt down, too. Nue smoothed Nyx’s hair. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there soon.”
“You’ll be where, Senator?” A booming voice echoed through the gallery. A woman with a tattoo drawn up her neck and grazing her cheek, dressed in a liquid gold gown walked through the crowd of people. Each bowed as she passed. She barely looked at them, glaring, instead, at Nue.
Nue stood still. “Far away. That’s all you need to know.”
The woman in gold tightened her jaw. “I’m your queen. And that’s how you address me?”
“You’re my sister, and nothing more to me than that.”
“Sister,” the queen scoffed. “And what did you do with Erebus? Is she not also our sister?”
Nue ground her teeth. “She’s safe from you.”
“And where exactly would that be?”
Nue squared her shoulders, remaining silent.
“I am the ruler of this Protectorate. You will answer me,” the queen hissed.
“You don’t rule this planet.”
The queen sneered. “For now. Where is Erebus?”
“Matthews and I created a special capsule for her. We contained her.”
The queen’s dark eyebrows arched. “You didn’t download her? You are the Star of Nyx. Why not take her inside you? Any containment besides the Star of Nyx will eventually corrupt and fail.”
Nue looked directly into the queen’s eyes. “Nyxie will be the operating system when she’s old enough. She’ll be the scion of the Progenitor’s line.”
“She’s just a child. She won’t be able to handle the voices. Just like you couldn’t,” the queen scoffed.
“I’ll teach Nyxie how, it’s in her blood. Until then, Erebus will stay contained. At her request. Our sister doesn’t want to be used as a weapon, Phoebe.” Nue shook her head, dark hair cascading over her shoulder. “Nyx, it’s time to go.” She pulled Nyx’s hand.
“You aren’t taking that child anywhere, sister.”
“You’re right. I’m not,” Nue said softly. “He is.”
Captain Matthews grabbed Nyx’s hand from Nue and swept her up the stairs.
The queen stepped forward. Nue pulled a small knife from somewhere in her bodice and sliced her hand open. She brandished her open, bloody hand, and the queen stopped moving.
The gallery silenced.
All Nyx could hear was the clip, clip, clip of her fancy shoes as they hit the hard floor while she ran up the stairs.
“What are you going to do? Download me?” the queen growled.
“I’ll do what I have to, sister,” Nue replied.
“Somebody shoot them!” the queen ordered and pointed up the stairs. “Don’t just let him take that girl away!”
Nyx’s mind whirled as she ran up the stairs. She was leaving her maman behind. She couldn’t leave her family behind.
A small click-click and a shot rang out.
Nyx stopped running and turned slowly. Nue put a hand to the back of her head, a mess of blood and hair. Nyx watched her maman lean forward and crumble, falling to the foot of the stairs.
“No! No!” A wail built from the bottom of her gut and erupted from her throat. She pulled at Matthews’ hand. He gripped her hard. Her maman had fallen. She would get up any moment.
The blood soaked the carpet around her maman’s dark hair at the base of the red stairs.
Nyx glanced toward the boy, who leveled a pistol at the space her maman crumbled down. He stood at the bottom of the stairs looking up. The boy had changed as he had grown, but barely. His black-brown hair was the same, his deep umber eyes, his smoky-bronze skin. His face was thinner, bonier, and his body much smaller and less muscular.
Nyx gaped at the paled boy still holding the gun. Her heart stopped. Kai.
Kai had shot her maman. She screamed and stumbled down the stairs, with Matthews still clutching her hand tightly and stumbling with her. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes and a lump gathered in her throat.
A wild-eyed, grey-haired Xaoc Marcus grabbed the boy’s arms and ripped the gun away from him.
The queen smiled. She yelled an order, and the footmen on the sides of the room were suddenly armed and firing into the crowd, aiming for the Medusa’s crew and those sympathetic to the Medusa. People ran in every direction to escape the barrage of bullets from the incognito firing squad.
Captain Matthews wrapped his arms around Nyx’s waist, lifted her as if she was a child and carried her up the stairs.
The lump in Nyx’s throat burst, and the tears in the corners of her eyes poured. She kicked her feet, trying to get free of the man’s grasp, but he held tight, sprinting up the stairs two-by-two. They got to the top, and he swung open the tall, heavy red velvet doors and sprinted out into the darkening purple night.
Deep amethyst shadows crept onto the silver moonlit path. The arching palms towered above Nyx as she jostled in Matthews’ arms. Great waxy leaves slapped her in the face as he ran through the narrow, graveled path, damp with the evening’s light showers. The air smelled of the dark wet soil of the spathiphylla and the strange, white bird of paradise at the base of the tall palms. The moist, draping mosses floated gently in the breeze from low-branched, rubbery-leaved trees. Nyx gasped with every jostle, the humid air sticking in her lungs.
Finally, Matthews set Nyx on her feet. He bent over, hands on his knees, and panted. Nyx turned and started back towards the gallery. Her maman had been hurt. She could help her, if she could get to her.
Matthews snagged her wrist and yanked her back. “No,” he wheezed. “Too dangerous, mon petit papillon. Too much shooting. You’ll get hurt. We have to go to the grotto. Your maman will meet us there.” He caught his breath and stood, gripping Nyx’s hand. “Come on, mon petit papillon.”
“My maman calls me that,” Nyx muttered.
Matthews smiled. “I call your mother that, too. You’ll both be mes petits papillons.” He held out his hand to her. She hesitated, gritting her teeth, then gripped the man’s hand, the Matthews who wasn’t the Matthews she knew, the Matthews with time dilation sickness. This was Matthews who was thin, unlined with worry and responsibility, relaxed and assured.
They walked down the dark path to the grotto. The waterfall splashed quietly, the pond reflecting the sterling light of the round moon. The deep purple sky was awash with stars. The dense belt of a glittering galaxy swept down the center of the sky, dividing the dark.
The water in the grotto rippled. A shadow floated in the middle of the pool. A small figure with dark hair surrounded by a mass of black fabric bobbed face down in the water. The water slowly turned red around the tiny doll-like form.
Goosebump
s rose on Nyx’s arms. She stuck her fist in her mouth, willing herself not to make a noise in the silent grotto. The child looked unsettlingly like her from the back, dressed like a doll in a pretty black ball-gown and sparkly shoes.
Matthews whipped his head around and ripped his jacket off, preparing to jump into the water to get the child.
“You didn’t think my wife would let people think her daughter was alive, did you? You don’t think she would have asked me to have a few men arrange for this, did you?” a gruff voice bubbled from the shadows.
Matthews’ hand hovered over a gun at his right hip. He snatched Nyx’s arm and pulled her close.
The shadow of a man oozed out of the umbra of the plants near the waterfall. “Better not.”
The soft tick-click of several guns echoed as they were cocked under the cover of the lagoon’s plants.
“Who’s in the water?” Matthews gulped.
“An unfortunate little girl. The daughter of a friend of my wife.” A grey-haired man stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight. Xaoc’s sepia eyes gleamed. “She was sick and dying anyway. I just hurried things along.”
“You killed a child, Xaoc.” Matthews wrinkled his face, disgusted. “Nue would have never.”
The man in the shadows scoffed. “She needs to disappear, my daughter. This is the only way. Nue would have seen that eventually. She was a practical woman.” He held out his hand. “Nyxie, come here, ma petite fille.”
Nyx hesitated. It was her father. She should go to him. But there was something wrong, something off. There was something in the way he wrinkled his nose. He didn’t seem like a nice man in that moment. But…
Her heart skipped a beat. It was her father. He gave her dolls, a pretty red bouncing ball, and he was alive. She pulled against Matthews’ grip, gently at first. Then she pulled insistently, yanking. It was her father, and he was alive. She could run to him, hug him, and tell him about Erebus and Malcam, and she could save him.
“Nue wanted me to take her,” Matthews warned, gripping Nyx’s wrist tightly.
Xaoc Marcus looked sharply at Matthews. “She’s my daughter. And her mother is dead.”
Matthews held his breath for a moment. “She can’t be dead. Her ability to heal…”
“You were standing there, too. It doesn’t work when she gets the back of her head blown off,” Xaoc said sourly. He glanced at his hands and turned over his palms, inspecting them as if they had dirt on them. “There just wasn’t enough left to heal. The kid who did it is broken up. He was aiming for you, Matthews. Nue is dead because of her own plotting. And now, without the protection of the Senate and Nue, this planet’s going to be a war zone because the queen is taking over.”
Nyx felt a chill grab her spine and inch its way through her body to her fingertips. Sobs grabbed at her throat. She stopped pulling at Matthews and stood, unmoving.
Her maman was dead. She had thought it was some faceless Queensman for so long. She had forgiven Kai, because she had thought he was carrying undo guilt, that it wasn’t his fault.
But it was his fault.
She didn’t know what she’d say to Kai if he were still alive, what she’d do. She choked, unable to breathe.
The tears dripped down her cheeks. Her back tensed, heavy with grief. She whimpered.
Xaoc lunged for her, but Matthews yanked her hand, pulled her out of her father’s reach, and caused her to lose her balance. She tumbled into the dark water. The warm pool embraced Nyx. Her dress dragged her down. She kicked at the fabric tangling around her legs.
Matthews jumped in after her, gripping her waist. Zips in the water, like muffled bees, popped Nyx’s eardrums. Matthews convulsed, and a cloud of crimson blood erupted from his torso. His grip on her waist loosened, and she pushed him away. His blond hair swirled around his slack face, bubbles escaping from his mouth and nose.
Nyx flailed in the water, black satin and tulle tangling around her. The warm water seeped into her lungs, burning. She gasped, sucking in more water. Matthews’ face was still and serene as he disappeared into the ebony below her. She looked up at the rippling surface, bubbles breaking the water’s skin. She struggled for breath, inhaling the warmth of the pool, and sank in the quiet violet night.
25
Nyx stood, dry, in the bright light of the white room. The small table with the peace lily and the white divan sat in the same place as before. She wore her black jumpsuit, her uniform for the Thanatos. She rubbed her temple. It was as if nothing had happened. It was all a memory.
Someone coughed behind her. Nyx whirled, her sepia eyes wide.
Matthews knelt on the floor, dripping wet, choking.
Nyx put her hands to her head. Matthews shouldn’t be here. In her white room. If Erebus was right, it was her code. Her operating system. He wasn’t a program, an AI.
Her memory hazed. When she had fallen in the water as a child, someone had pulled her out. They had covered her head and walked away from the grotto as a hail of bullets showered the pond. She straightened as the memory cleared. Her father’s men left Captain Matthews for dead in the lagoon with the floating child.
He sank to the bottom after being shot. But he didn’t die.
She extended a hand to help him from his knees. “Just breathe normally. You’re fine now.”
He looked up and wiped his face. “We were just… the grotto…” Matthews croaked and glanced around wildly.
“Erebus says this is part of my AI.” Nyx stared at the dripping Matthews, wishing she had a towel. He’d be more comfortable if he was dry, probably feel safer too. “It’s safe. I think.” Nyx blinked as he reached for her and pulled himself up. He was dry. His clothes, the Thanatos’ old uniform, a crisp white, mandarin-collared shirt, pressed black slacks, his brown leather jacket, and highly shined boots, looked brand new.
What was happening? She swore Matthews had just been soaked to the bone. Now, his blond hair was swept back from his forehead, hazel eyes shining. He brushed his leather jacket’s lapel down to the front of his pants. Nyx glanced to the floor, expecting the cuffs of his slacks to be damp from the puddle that had been there. All the water on the floor was gone.
She was going insane. That was the only explanation. Water didn’t just evaporate and vanish, not that quickly.
“No windows. No doors. No color. Yours is much different than hers,” he whispered. He wandered in a circle, staring at the dustless corners as he pulled at the dry cuffs of his white sleeves. He plopped on the clean-lined divan. “She’s right. It’s a programmed haven. Nue had a similar construct in her code. In her mind. But hers was filled with color and pretty things.”
Silent screams echoed in the peripheries of Nyx’s consciousness. Someone needed her.
“You still don’t understand? The code in your blood,” Matthews said, relaxed. “What a place to have to talk about this. In a blank space yet to be designed. Or is it already designed? Are you truly a slate so clean and pure? No Star is ever as intention-less as this.”
“I’m not an AI.” Nyx frowned.
“Not precisely true. You are human. But you have the AI code in your DNA. And it’s awake now.” He scrunched his face. “You haven’t bled lately, have you?”
Nyx felt herself flush. “Are you asking if I’m menstruating? Because I don’t know you, and that’s personal.”
Matthews ducked his head. “That’s a whole problem in itself that you’ll have to deal with. But no, I’m not asking about that.” Then a look crossed his face. “Oh. Of course, you have. You were shot.” He poked a finger at the hole in the waist of her jumpsuit, then flicked her temple. “And that blow to the head, it wasn’t my imagination that your skull was crushed?”
Nyx looked quizzically at Matthews.
“It’s a good thing your brain wasn’t too damaged. You could have died. Then the other six would have been able to run amuck. Amuck, what a funny word. Amuck, amuck, amuck,” he mumbled, staring at his hands.
He glanced up to Nyx.
“You can’t get your blood on people. It does things.” He wiggled his fingers at her. “Woo-ee-ooo. It’s like magic. You leave a little part of you behind, and they become a little something more.”
“I’m infectious?”
“Just like Erebus. Only different. Hers is because of her programming, yours is because of the code repurposing whatever it was that turned it on. Self-perpetuating nano-tech of some kind that spreads your code.” He shrugged. “It was your mother’s wish, should something happen to her, that you carry on the Star’s bloodline. Erebus probably carried out that wish.”
Nyx nodded. Erebus had said she used the nano-medics to turn something on inside. She glanced around her. “So, this place is in me. In my mind.”
“And you dragged me with you,” Matthews said with a laugh. “Which I would thank you for but the memory of the night Nue was shot was especially excruciating, not only because of that, but because I died for the first time. The first time for those of us infected, I’m told, is the most painful, and I’d rather not live through that again.” He grimaced. “Drowning isn’t fun. Being shot, less so.”
Nyx sat next to him on the divan, not sure how to respond. The silence built between them. The quiet echoes of someone’s pleading voice buried themselves in the crevices of Nyx’s mind.
Matthews sighed. “While it’s terrible out there, I should not be hiding in your mind. Didn’t when it happened with your mother either. Like mother, like daughter, I suppose. You both have a tendency to want to save things you can’t.”
Nyx warmed at the thought. She was like her maman. “What does this code in my blood do exactly?”
Matthews shifted and turned to her, face dour. “You are the tree of life and the executioner. You are the reader of light. You are the granter of the eternal. You are a god. Life and death have no meaning for you.” He shrugged, as if the heaviness of what he just said was nothing. “Of course, your mother was the same. I’ve lived a long time, thanks to her.” Grimacing, he slouched. “Getting my brain turned to goo should end that. But I honestly don’t mind so much. Especially now that it’s a little hard to tell if I’m in the real world or in someone else’s head, you know?”
