by Rachel Caine
The black screen flashed blue and cycled back to darkness again. I stepped aside, and C-X went next. Same result, and then the whole wall just . . . melted. Splashed in a curtain into the floor and disappeared, and we kept walking forward. When I looked back, the wall was back up behind us. No way out now.
Don’t suppose this is how Bacia gets rid of enemies, I thought, and wished I hadn’t.
The corridor curved, and the sides were the same featureless white. Grav was lower here, and I could feel the slow bounce of my curls as I walked. Felt like I might float if I wasn’t careful, but the soles of my boots stayed firm on the surface, so I guessed there was some mysterious adhesion on it.
We were moving up, I realized, in a long spiral, and when we reached the next level, there was a shimmering golden curtain of light that blocked our path.
A Jelly bobbed and floated in the space right in front of it. It was a big-ass thing, with elongated tentacles—deadly, I guessed. It bioluminesced in lazy waves of muted colors, and the translation matrix said, “Welcome, honored guests, to the office of Bacia Annont. All weapons please surrender, except for those biologically grafted or inherited.”
I was carrying a pack with a knife and the personal defense field in it; I put the bag down, and Chao-Xing started unloading her arsenal into it. I wasn’t shocked to find it impressive. I was surprised that she’d found most of it on the station. That was some crunchy good tech.
“Hey, how are we supposed to pronoun Bacia anyway?”
Chao-Xing flashed me a superior look. “You’re only now asking? Word is Bacia uses they/them.”
I filed that away. Good to know. Nothing like getting your host’s gender wrong to sour an impression.
The Jelly must have judged us honest in disarmament, because the curtain of light fell, and Jelly-butler floated ahead of us into a room the entire width of the tower, which was big enough to make me feel disoriented after the noise and clutter below on the Sliver. The floor beneath us was firm and polished, and what I guessed was artwork floated in carefully chosen spots around the room. Some of it was two-dimensional, some 3D. For all I could tell, some of it might have had some multidimensional aspects too. Some pieces were so beautiful I wouldn’t have minded a long look, and others made my head hurt.
Suddenly, a song started playing in the background. Classical rap, all beats and drops and burns, and ahead, I saw a wide, curving desk in what looked like real wood, only purple. Behind that was a chair big enough to be a throne, and the back of it spread out in shimmering fronds that resembled feathers, but were probably something else: organic tech, maybe. No idea what purpose they served, but they were colorful.
Bacia Annont said, without the translation matrix, in English, “I hope that I have chosen appropriately from your musical collection. I rather like the music of your people. It’s uncomplicated, but full of . . . energy.”
The Sliver boss was—well, the word for it would be giant. Shockingly huge, sleek, mind-numbingly beautiful, smooth gold and luminous curves, and my mouth dried up looking because all I could think was that they were the kind of creature that back in the day would have made humans on any continent, in any culture, drop to their knees and call them a god. I couldn’t tell if Bacia wore armor, or they were the armor; those eyes held eternity, and I couldn’t look for more than a couple of seconds without nearly melting into a puddle of pure attraction.
“Hello, pilots and starsingers,” Bacia said, and their voice was bells and harps and the most profound kind of music I’d ever heard. “Hello, Nadim of the Dark Travelers, here by proxy. I am Bacia. The Sliver is mine. I am its protector.” They paused and listened to the music. “Yes. I like the music of humans. This is worthwhile. I shall collect.”
I had the sense that meant something, but I couldn’t think what. I couldn’t think, period, because the presence of this creature was . . . vast. Bigger even than Nadim’s, or Typhon’s. I didn’t know if they meant to be that overwhelming. They just were.
No wonder they didn’t walk out on the tiers.
“Take it,” Chao-Xing said in a dreamy tone. “You can have our whole collection.”
I considered arguing; I mean, she was giving up currency, and I had just enough sense left to know that ran directly to our best interests. But I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t summon up that much will.
Bacia inclined their head just a tiny bit, and it felt like the greatest gift I’d ever gotten. Get hold of yourself. They’re just another alien; you’ve seen dozens now. But they didn’t feel alien, even though Bacia wasn’t like anyone I’d ever seen. They felt like home, and home meant love, kindness, and safety, even though I’d rarely had those things in my life. Bacia was the sweet, perfect moments in my mother’s arms, the safety and power of bonding with Nadim, the laughter and light of everything clean.
It took everything I had to pull in a deep breath and say, “Stop playing us, Bacia. Why did you call Nadim a ‘dark traveler’?”
I got their attention, and with it a flicker of annoyance that felt like an open flame on my skin. It died as soon as I flinched. “His people live to wander, surviving the silence between stars. Isn’t it natural?”
Their explanation was simple, and it made sense, but the words felt ominous in a way their description didn’t. “Bullshit.” I fought to force that word out.
They laughed. Even their laughter was warm, and it swirled around me like a current, trying to sweep me away. “I do genuinely like your music, human of Earth. It is heartfelt, if not complex. You are a passionate people.”
The pressure on me increased. A headache burst from seed to storm in about a heartbeat. I had to fight this. Sweat broke out cold on my skin, and I concentrated on that, on the smell of my half-washed skin, on the flutter of my clothes and the pulse drumming in my head. “We’re here to talk, not bow down. You called us. So, let’s trade.”
Bacia’s smile—if it was a smile, maybe I was imagining that—faded, and so did the warmth, leaving the cold shimmer of power. Their kind had to be rare in the universe, because if they weren’t, they’d have taken everything.
“I did,” they agreed. “You brought Travelers to our station. Travelers draw the parasites—”
“Wait, parasites? You know about the Phage.”
Bacia’s amusement hit me like a wave; I wanted to smile for no apparent reason. “The names we give to what we fear can tell others much about us. I want you and your Dark Travelers gone, as quickly as possible.”
“Well, we’re flying the same course, because we want the hell out of here too.”
“But you have been earning mynt and fita as if you mean to stay. I have been watching your exploits.”
I was ready for that, though it hinted that Bacia had a use for us, echoed in the subtle swelling of power again to try to gain advantage. I had the feeling our time on the Sliver had been one long audition for a job nobody else wanted. Even if that was true, Bacia was not going to get one over on me.
“What can I say? We have bills to pay. I might be interested in better-paying work, if the offer includes armor for our Leviathan,” I said. “Both of them. Full work crews to install and repair what’s already there. Oh, and whatever weapons you’ve got that the Leviathan can use, we want.”
“That is a significant request.”
“Yeah, well, we’re good for the mynt. And the fita.”
“Not for this,” they said. “This transaction requires more than mynt, more than fita. This requires a more personal service.”
I didn’t like the sound of that one bit. “Nope.”
Bacia laughed again, and I thought of silver and stars. “Let us make a bargain, Zara Cole. Let us be allies. The Sliver has many things that could strengthen your Dark Travelers and preserve them against the parasites you call the Phage. Some might even ensure the survival of their kind. I ask one small thing in return for this great gift you ask of me.”
“Wait, I never said anything about a gift,” I said. “This is a t
rade. Value for value. No favors, and we don’t owe you shit when it’s done.”
The pressure closed around me again. Felt like I couldn’t breathe, though I knew my lungs were working fine. My brain tried to tell me I was about to die, and I should get the fuck out of this place, but I made it shut up. I needed calm. I needed strength, but alone, I wouldn’t be able to resist forever. Closing my eyes, I reached for Nadim, and since we’d set new parameters of possibility when he saved me during the codejacking, he leapt in response to my silent call, no longer an unconnected observer.
Nadim filled me, diminishing the alien’s hold, and then the bond locked in. Zadim. Our eyes opened. Bacia didn’t seem to notice the difference, but they didn’t even look as large as they had before, nowhere near as looming.
“Little human,” Bacia said. “I deal fairly with all. I built the Sliver from nothing. I face all species without fear or favor. You would be wise to think before offending me.”
Our eyes opened. Zadim spoke. “No favors, no debts. Straight deal. You don’t want it, we take our ships and go.”
“Go where?” They flicked dismissive fingers—were those fingers? They looked shockingly human, but I suspected that was an illusion. “Your Travelers are sick and wounded, blackened by grief within. The Phage have been rare in this sector, but where the Travelers go, the Phage follow. They will catch yours and core them hollow without the proper plate and weapons. These, I can supply.”
“Then let’s get to price. We’re here to haggle.” The Zara part of Nadim was forming words, but the strength, the intention, that was the meld of Zadim.
Bacia’s ancient eyes studied us, and we had the sudden, eerie feeling that appearance was a beautiful shell they wore for our benefit, an outfit they’d put on because it might speed things along. “Why are you not like the others?”
“You don’t know? Truly?” Perhaps they had never witnessed a perfect deep bond.
“You don’t treat me with the reverence others do.” Irritation pricked at the superficial calm of those words. Bacia stared harder, trying to work out the puzzle of how a mere human could resist such power. “You’re a true pilot.”
“We are Zadim.”
“I have never known a Dark Traveler who could bond at such distance.”
“We’re not here to discuss that. You want something. Something all your other Sliver rats can’t give you, or you’d have already made deals with them. So?”
Bacia didn’t like us. The charm turned off, as if a switch got thrown, and what was left was not gold but ice-cold iron. “Very well, if you wish to dispense with the pleasant conversation, I will. I require payment in service. I require you to bring me something rare and dangerous. Will you do it?”
Whoa, whoa, whoa. “Depends. What the hell is it?”
“An artifact,” they said. “It is located on a long-deserted planet located a distance away, but with a ship like yours, you should be there and back in a few station days.”
“Anybody watching over this artifact of yours?” We considered the possible dangers. “Guards? Alarm systems?”
Bacia blinked those dark, eternal eyes and said, “No. It lies alone and forgotten. There is no danger.”
A lie; it rang hollow to us, and we could read small cues that had been invisible to Zara alone. Bacia . . . was nervous.
“Then why haven’t you claimed it already?”
“I do not leave this place,” they said. “And there are reasons I do not wish to send those I employ.”
“Somebody else owns it.”
Bacia’s smile came slow, and it gave us a bad feeling. Worse than we had already. “Not anymore.” There wasn’t just a story behind that; there was probably an epic, several intergalactic wars, and maybe a few planets left in rubble. “Do you agree?”
“What exactly are we getting in return for this?”
“What you requested. Defenses against the Phage. Weapons to repel and destroy them. Time grows thin, little human. It is time to decide. Agree, or leave the Sliver.”
“What happens to our mynt and fita if we decline?” We weren’t sure where we stood financially, in all honesty. Borrowing from the lizards and taking meds on credit from Dr. Justineau had left us scrambling to run some numbers.
“If you leave to complete this request, then it will be held in trust,” they said, smooth as melting butter. “If you leave without agreeing, it reverts to the Sliver for redistribution. This is fair.”
The hell it was. We started to argue about it, but right about then, Chao-Xing took a step forward. It looked like the movement took all her strength and grit, but she did it, and came shoulder to shoulder with us. She didn’t speak, but I understood: she was fighting Bacia’s influence and standing strong.
“What do we think?” Zadim asked. “Take the job, or not? Your call.”
Chao-Xing was staring at Bacia. I couldn’t read the look on her face. “What are you?” she asked.
Bacia’s large, perfect head tilted to one side. “What do you see?”
“You ought to be ruling a galaxy, yet you’re hiding in a tower. Maybe the proper question is, what are you afraid of, Bacia Annont?” Chao-Xing stood straighter, lifting her gaze in unmistakable challenge.
The air chilled, icy as the vacuum of space, and that bottom-of-the-ocean pressure built again. Something hid behind the gilded mask that I really didn’t want to meet.
“I fear nothing,” they said, and I knew that for a lie the second I heard it. “But you, little humans . . . you should fear me. Last time. Yes or no?”
Chao-Xing shrugged. “Yes,” she said. “But I warn you, you should know something about us humans.”
Bacia sat back. Bored now. “And what is that?”
“We’ve worshipped lots of gods in our history,” she said. “We’ve killed most of them. You might want to be wary.”
Zadim heartily agreed with that sentiment. “Send the coordinates. And Bacia? No charge for breaking dock. Call it a good-faith payment.”
Bacia said nothing, but Jelly-butler drifted forward, delicate membranes flashing an agitated light show, and led us out. The minute we stepped past the milky white wall, Zadim splintered. I stumbled, feeling cold and alone; Chao-Xing caught me. I didn’t know if they’d even noticed my eyes in the middle of that intense negotiation. A faint squeeze on my shoulder implied that C-X had.
I leaned over and braced myself with hands on my thighs, breathing deeply. “What did we just do? What was that?”
“Next best thing to a god out here in the black,” Chao-Xing said. “But vulnerable, or they wouldn’t be hiding. If anyone can give us what we need, they can.”
I was feeling a little giddy, rather than shaken; we had just—holy shit—faced down a being that would have scared most creatures into a fetal position, if they had one.
Chao-Xing and I headed for medical to brief the others, and C-X—slick as hell—had been recording the whole encounter. Starcurrent’s tentacles went blue at the tips as ze stared at Bacia’s image on the H2.
“Not good,” ze said. “Such beings . . .” Here, Starcurrent hesitated, as if there was a story ze didn’t want to tell. “They acted as gods,” ze finally said. “Once, such ruled far-spanning galaxies. Many wars between them. Many worlds gone in fighting. My people suffered much. Thought they were only dust now, dust and forgotten songs.”
“Yeah, well, we’re not dying, and we’re singing on,” I told zim. “Cheer up. We’re getting the hell out of here.”
And back to Nadim, I thought. I craved him like oxygen.
OFFERED SALE: A FRAGMENT OF A RECORD OF THE BIIYAN
Source: Unknown, no provenance exists. Unverified. Value of collected material may either be nothing, or incalculable. Buyer beware.
Long we wait
Weightless
Longing
Freedom taken
Crushed by their regard
Descendants lost
Must win free
Or die
CH
APTER NINE
Binding Destiny
WE DIDN’T BREAK dock right away. Bacia hadn’t asked us to punch a clock, and we had interests on the Sliver to protect. That meant looking for Suncross, our primary ally here on Stab-You-in-the-Back Station. He’d sponsored us and earned fita on our fights, so that should mean we were still on good terms.
Chao-Xing went to collect her wages from Pinky’s, and Starcurrent took Marko and Yusuf shopping, gearing them up for the mission to come. That left Beatriz and me to head for the arena, where we might find our favorite lizards.
Since C-X and I were still listed as champions—which would only stand for another few hours, and we’d get downgraded when we didn’t register for the next match—I got free admission and took Bea in as my guest.
There was a low-level bout on below, and I was a little shocked to see that it was an Abyin Dommas fighting. Somehow, I’d been thinking they were heavily pacifist . . . until I saw how this one took down zis opponents. Those tentacles were damn fast, and strong, and ze wasn’t even using the barbs. Fastest win I’d seen yet. Also, the first where the winner solicitously stuck around and helped revive the loser.
We were looking for Suncross, but the big reptile was absent. Ghostwalk was there, though, betting heavy, and he greeted us with a hearty shout and double sets of fists pounding his chest. “Zeerakull! Fighting today?”
“Not today, buddy,” I said, and taught him the fine art of the fist bump. “Listen, where’s Suncross? I need to talk to him.”
Ghostwalk was already shaking his head. “Not now,” he said. “Not today. Today is day of pleasure.”
“Uh, you mean, like a day off?” Beatriz asked. “Because—”
“No, no, pleasure. Tier Twelve. He will not want talking. Come tomorrow.”
“But—” Beatriz said, and evidently she thought the translation matrix was off.
“Let it go,” I told her. “Tier Twelve is brothels.”
“Oh.”
“Let’s see if Justineau has any useful intel,” I suggested.
