by Rachel Caine
I’d like to say that I was a badass about it, but I wasn’t. From the moment Henri hit the controls and began the process of wiping the programming of my life-sustaining nanobots, my whole body went into overdrive. Every nerve screamed. Every muscle contracted. He’d strapped me down on the chair, but even so I nearly fought free while I writhed and screamed and begged it to stop. I couldn’t remember why I was doing it, only that it was killing me.
It didn’t stop, and it didn’t get easier as the minutes ticked by; I was trying to breathe, trying to live, and it felt like the worst agony a human being could endure, and it didn’t stop . . .
. . . until suddenly, with a snap, it did.
The vastness of all my muscles relaxing, all my nerves falling silent, was like euphoria buzzing in my veins. The headache was still there, but distant as a storm blown halfway across a globe. I panted and sucked in breaths that did nothing, nothing to nourish my cells, and I started to cough.
“Flash code now!” I heard a voice shout, and Bea let me go, stepped back, and her fingers flew across her H2.
Not fast enough. Not nearly fast enough. The headache came roaring back, consuming my brain in a black storm, and my body took on weight, as if an invisible force was slowly crushing it. I felt unfocused and frantic and terrified as everything spun and spiraled around me, and my last, desperate effort was to reach out to Nadim through the vast distance between us . . .
And he caught me as I fell.
I relaxed into him. I was a mindless, screaming thing, but his embrace quieted me, and his love flooded every cell of my body like cool water.
I’m here, he told me. I don’t know what it cost him to do it, but he held me. He stayed. I won’t leave you. If you go into the dark, I go too.
And for a long, long moment, I thought I would die, and kill him with me. The emptiness screamed around us, pulling us apart cell by cell . . .
. . . and then the code kicked in on my nanobots.
It didn’t stabilize all at once; the ramp-up took long moments of feeling terminally ill, but at least I wasn’t dying anymore. I was healing. And Nadim held on until he felt the headache’s black shadow contracting. I felt the exact moment, with exquisite detail, when he withdrew. I felt small, but not alone. Never alone.
“Nadim?” I whispered it and closed my aching eyes. “Nadim?”
“Here,” he said. “Still here.”
“Makes two of us.” I felt a smile play at my lips, and I let it stay. “Thank you.”
“Don’t do it again,” he said. “Please, Zara.”
The sound of my name, in those quiet, longing tones, made me go still inside. Breathless, but not in the way that I had been. I felt lifted on the force of it.
“Z?” Beatriz’s hand was on my cheek, and I opened my eyes and looked at her. “Are you okay? I’m sorry, I tried to get it uploaded as fast as I could . . .” She sounded half-frantic. I aimed the smile at her this time.
“I’m okay,” I told her, and tried to sit up.
Bea and Henri unlocked the restraints, and by the time I sat up, the worst I had were a few bruises from the struggle, and the last remnants of a headache melting away as the nanites industriously scrubbed me clean of toxins.
“Wow,” I said. “Let’s never do that again.”
Henri shook his head. “I don’t know how you survived it. The codejacking had deep defenses. It nearly killed you.”
I knew why it hadn’t managed it. Nadim. “New Detroit girls are tough,” I told him. “Where you from, Henri?”
“Carolina,” he said. “United Raleigh.”
“You got the code saved off?”
“I did,” he said, and held up a small vial swimming with red. “I drew blood. Don’t worry, I disabled the comms functions, so it can’t beam itself out anywhere. It’s a dead virus.”
“Nice.” I took the vial, stared into it for a second, and slipped it in a pocket of my one-piece station suit. “What time is it?”
“Time?” Bea asked, and frowned. “Why?”
“Because I’ve got a job,” I said. “And I’d like you to tell Mandy that if he doesn’t pay up with max fita for your next performances, this goes straight up to Bacia. I’m pretty sure Mandy doesn’t want that.”
“Careful,” Justineau said. “Crossing Mandy is dangerous.”
“I didn’t cross Mandy, Mandy crossed us,” I said. “And we’re getting paid for staying silent about it. Fair?”
“Fair,” he said. “But watch out. Mandy never sleeps.”
“I got it.” Wincing, I flexed my arms as Bea unstrapped me.
My entire body felt like someone had gone over every inch of it with a hammer, and my knees wobbled when I tried to stand.
She shook her head at me. “You can’t fight today. It’s impossible.”
Shit. When I tried to bring my arms up in a fighting stance, pain lanced through me. Even my knuckles hurt, like I’d spent hours with my fingers cramped into a fist. “Not impossible,” I argued, though it was semantics. “Winning, though? Yeah.”
“Well, you shouldn’t today,” Justineau said. “Not unless you want to end up back here with ruptured organs.”
I shot the wretched-looking refugee a look. “Thanks for the warning. Listen . . . are you . . . really okay down here?” He’d joked about my offer of help before.
Something like a smile broke the withered solemnity of his face, though his eyes were so sad that I had to look away. “Not so much. But at least I’m alive. And now you’re here. I can’t tell you what seeing another human’s done for me. Made me feel . . . almost normal again.”
“Right, well . . .” Awkward as hell, but I settled the bill, paying in both mynt and fita. “Thank you for the help.”
Even leaning on Bea, it took me a lot longer to limp out of the sublevel than it had to come in. As we hit Tier One, Chao-Xing’s face popped up on my H2.
“Where are you?” she demanded.
“There was a situation . . .”
She set her jaw, eyes sparking with impatience. “Are you coming or not?”
Suncross leaned into the screen from behind C-X’s shoulder. “You survived down-low doc? Good. Will call in favor, postpone fight.”
“Thank you.” I was surprised how much I meant that. Shit. I didn’t trust people who did good deeds. “Wait, what’s this costing me?”
“You forfeit, I lose mynt. Doing this for me, not you.”
Spoken like a true gambler. I felt better knowing he had an ulterior motive, but it seemed like I’d forgotten some important detail. But what . . . ?
“Fill me in later.” Chao-Xing cut the connection and I shuffled onward to the slipstream platform. I didn’t leap into the flow so much as fall, and I swallowed a shriek as I landed. If Bea hadn’t caught me, I would’ve dropped.
“I’ve got you.” Her arm went around me, both supporting and protective.
That . . . I didn’t know how I felt about it, except I had a sudden warmth in my chest. People had been finding me too hard to handle all my life, but here Bea was, helping me, having my back, no matter what shit I got myself in. The Honors had done me a real favor when they paired me up with this girl. Smart, sweet, and tough all together.
My H2 flashed, a brief vid message from Suncross. “Delayed to tomorrow. Will notify you of new match time.” His broad grin bared knives. “You will make us mynt.”
FROM THE UNOFFICIAL PUBLICATION A GUIDE TO THE SLIVER
Source: Bruqvisz Planetary Database, unlicensed copy
Should you be brave in battle, and lacking in mynt and fita, best way to survive the Sliver is enrollment in the Pit. This is only for those who do not mind giving damage and can sustain such. Is not recommended for soft species lacking formidable defenses. Aggression is advised.
Survival of battle rounds earns mynt and fita at a faster rate than other duties available to new travelers. However, rise in rank is unlikely, and mynt and fita may be quickly lost if bets are placed by combatants.
&
nbsp; Wisdom says to allow allies’ bets only.
No rules in the Pit. Be warned that only best survive to be hired by Bacia Annont.
Good work comes if you achieve.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Binding Resolution
“STARCURRENT!” EYES WIDE, I clutched Bea’s arm and gave it a shake. “He’s still with Mandy. We need to—”
“I got this,” she said.
Rarely had I trusted anyone else to get the job done, but I locked eyes with Bea and figuratively passed her the torch. “Thanks. I’ll get myself to our squat.”
She hurried off, trusting me to do as I’d promised. As I trudged that way, Nadim spoke in an anxious tone. “How are you?”
“Better,” I answered. “You? How’re your battle wounds coming along?” During those moments when we’d been deep bonded because of the procedure, my own pain had been bad enough that I couldn’t remember anything about his.
“Not perfect, but well enough to travel. Typhon too. We should leave now, Zara. You’ve been there too long.” What I heard in his tone was too complex for simple anxiety.
I stopped. “What’re you afraid of? That I’ll get settled on the Sliver and I won’t—”
“Want to come back?” he finished. “Perhaps you shouldn’t. It is a huge risk, traveling with me. There is so much we don’t know about the Phage, and so many of my cousins have gone silent. Part of me thinks that I should stay with Typhon, and away from you. Safer for you and Beatriz.” The pause was painful. “You have found another human there. Marko and Yusuf could also stay. We could go on alone.”
Damn, Nadim was having a crisis, undercutting my resolve. I couldn’t afford to break dock, as our Earth music had been a fad, interesting only because of its newness, so to earn mynt and fita, we had to work.
But it didn’t sit right with me, ignoring Nadim’s pain.
If I was honest, I wanted to go home—and home meant Nadim. It didn’t mean curling up in that metal cube and feeling sorry for myself. This was a reckless idea, and really, if I had the energy to try this stunt, I should probably go help Bea and Starcurrent, but after what I’d just gone through, I deserved to be selfish.
It took me a while, asking around, and with my VA’s help, but I eventually found a stall that sold me an extra oxygen pack that I jury-rigged to my skinsuit. Next, I needed the magnetic boot attachment I’d coveted when we first arrived on the Sliver—easier to find and worth haggling over—and finally, a limited-use jet pack. Already, I was exhausted, but I’d committed to this course. I headed up to the top public tier and groaned coming off the gravity well. Falling hard, I stayed down for a few minutes—no surprise that the aliens kept moving around me. People in the Zone would act about the same.
I’d scoped out the station well, so I knew where our ships were in relation to the rest of the Sliver. Resting near the top, beneath four arched metal beams that emitted the energy currently allowing them to heal, and those beams were huge by human standards, more than big enough to walk across. If the guards caught me doing this, there would probably be a fine.
What the hell? I’ll risk it.
Keeping a sharp eye for witnesses, I tailed a bot on its rounds and followed it right into the restricted area. As I’d suspected, the unit eventually went outside for routine maintenance, and I got outside the Sliver, keeping close. From there, I climbed, slow and exhausting, especially with my burning muscles and residual headache, until I got to the first beam.
Just walk, I told myself.
Like being in zero gravity was no big deal with the station oscillating behind me. Nadim couldn’t come on board the Sliver, but I could go to him. And I would.
Sheer determination got me to the center of the beams, where they curved above my Leviathan like a steel ribcage, steadily beaming a star bath. Emptying my mind, I fired the jet pack and jumped. Solid landing.
“Zara? You’re here? How?”
Thankfully, Nadim had been quiet until right then, maybe trying not to guilt me, and that focus had allowed me to ignore my pain and get here. “I found a back door. Give me time to get inside, and then—” The inside of my head went white and crimson with the discomfort I’d shut away, but determination could only keep it at bay for so long.
“Zara? I’m sending Yusuf!”
That was the last I knew for a while. When I woke, Yusuf was pulling my skinsuit helmet off, his brow furrowed in concern. I pushed his hands away. “Thanks for the save, but if you’re recovered enough, we could really use you on station.”
To me, he already looked a lot better, alert and no longer shiny with pain sweat. In breathless bursts, I explained about the codejacking, and how Bea and Starcurrent were facing off against an unkillable blob.
When I finished, he was shaking his head. “You couldn’t call in an SOS?”
“I wanted to see Nadim. And I needed to find out if you could get inside the station this way—without paying the docking fee again.”
“There’s cheap, Zara, and then there’s crazy. You know which you are, right?”
“Never mind that. Just go. Help Bea and Starcurrent. Please. We need you, and I . . .” Shit, it hurt to admit this. “I’ve got nothing left, okay?”
Yusuf squared his shoulders, and for the first time, I got a glimpse of what he must’ve been like when he was first recruited as an Honor: sharp-eyed and commanding. “Yes. I’ll take your gear and tell Marko how to follow. Are you fine from here?”
Not so much, but . . .
“Sure.”
Somehow I crawled out of the airlock, and Nadim lit the way to my quarters with concerned pulses of light. This was such a self-indulgent idea. Maybe I should’ve stuck it out on station, but when I hauled myself into bed, I regretted nothing, especially when Nadim tapped lightly and I let him in. We spilled into a light bond that eased both pain and exhaustion. His care trickled through me like a warm summer rain, soaking into the places parched by our separation.
I hate being away from you, he whispered.
Me too.
When I drifted off, it was just like he held me while I slept.
Twenty-four hours later, I was a lot better off—and we had a secret back door in and out of the Sliver. Marko and Yusuf had extracted Starcurrent from Mandy’s murderous clutches, and the Abyin Dommas was getting medical treatment, while the rest of our crew tried to talk Chao-Xing and me out of more gladiator combat.
Just outside the arena, I waved the others ahead of me. “Be right there.” To Nadim, I added, “Try not to worry. We’ll lose touch while I’m fighting, but it’ll be fine.”
“I believe you will prevail, Zara. But I don’t like that you risk yourself this way. Not for me.” Nadim sounded borderline despondent, and my heart ached at the way he was trying to feign bravery. That was a human trait, not a Leviathan one, and I wished I hadn’t taught him that.
“Trust me. Talk to you soon.”
The arena was packed. I’d have liked to say it was because of Chao-Xing and me, but there was a massive alien named Mangler in the next bout who was apparently all that. Bodies jostled around me in the pit. If not for the holos, I wouldn’t have been able to see the match at all. The view was better for spectators than fighters, so I stretched, trying to work out the kinks.
Chao-Xing was warming up next to me. She didn’t miss my winces, even though I tried not to let them show. “You sure you’re up to this?”
The only possible answer had to be yes. Briefly I wished I had some flavor of chem to mask the traces of pain still buzzing in my nerves, but I didn’t want to chance stumbling on a buzz I couldn’t quit. Plus, fighting drugged was a likely way to get injured.
“I’ll manage,” I said finally.
She looked none too sure, but I glimpsed Bea, Marko, and Yusuf in the cheap seats, ready to cheer us on. When Bea caught my eye, she raised both arms. She believes in me. Problem was, I couldn’t miss how fragile she looked in this crowd. Like one of the Jellyfish, but without the apparently deadly stings.
I needed to get her out of here, and the sooner we up-ranked, the faster I got back to Nadim for good. Resolve firmed my spine, and when I raised my fists, I hardly noticed the soreness in my shoulders.
“That’s the look I was waiting for,” Chao-Xing said. “I thought maybe the Blob had sapped your spirit.”
“You try having your nanites hacked,” I muttered.
“I’m not dumb enough to look in every random box a stranger hands me.”
“Hey!” Before I could say more, the announcer called, “Zeerakull, challenging!”
Taking a deep, bracing breath, I strode off with the confidence the audience wanted. I paused at the weapon rack, now used to the customary “weapon or barehand?” choice. It would have been nice if they’d showed me my opponent beforehand, but since I’d learned a little about the shock stick in the tag-team fight with C-X, and my foes would only get more dangerous as I climbed, I grabbed the long, elegant weapon.
“Zeerakull chooses shock stick. The champion declines a weapon. Let the battle begin!”
Thankfully, it wasn’t the Mangler. But the alien that skittered into the ring might have been worse: eight legs, a coiled tail with a barb, and a face like a nightmare. Really, this was a blend of a scorpion and a spider. On some level, it reminded me of the Phage, only it was much larger, and it seemed capable of independent thought.
And trash talk, apparently, because it hissed, “Will suck out your guts.”
Dammit. The shock stick might not help much. From what I could see, this enemy was covered in chitin. As it charged, I used the haft of my weapon to vault over it, and I landed if not gracefully, then soundly. The tail strike smashed into the metal floor so hard that it pierced through. A shudder rolled over me.
Imagine what it’ll do to me. These aren’t supposed to be death matches. But there aren’t any rules.
No time to waste; the alien was already wheeling, and it was fast. I’d never fought anything like it before. I only had one idea, and I’d lose in a spectacular fashion if this went bad. Pretending to lose my footing, I toppled backward and then acted like I was losing my grip on my shock stick in the panic. I was dimly aware of the crowd, reacting, cursing, shouting encouragement to me or my foe.
