The air was chilly inside the planet’s crust. Pri did not like being underground. She took the tram from the elevator and stared at the canister the whole trip so she wouldn’t have to stare at the ceiling of rock above. Once, she lifted the drum to her head capsule, shifting it to see if she could hear liquid sloshing inside, but of course it was too full to make a sound.
She reached the complex; another short elevator ride brought her to the fourth-floor lab. The intercom was an early-generation model, unable to render the electromagnetic pulses of Drevl Char sendings into audible language. Pri tapped the buzzer and stood back, gazing up into the black orb of the camera. It whooshed open a few seconds later.
The interior of the lab was dim—almost unlit by Pri’s standards, except for thin bands of yellow running light around the floor and ceiling—yet she had no trouble making her way to the sole occupant of the room. In the semi-darkness, her white mane shone like starlight.
“Pri!” Shomoro was already sliding off her saddle-shaped workbench, a lightpad lying forgotten on the table before it. “I’m so glad you’ve returned safe!”
She stopped short of embracing the Drevl Char, wary of dislodging the rebreather tubes that kept Pri alive in this atmosphere. She settled for squeezing her sloping shoulders, smiling in that way Osk had that exposed lots of teeth. Years ago Pri had found that smile unnerving, but now it made a warm camaraderie tingle along her antennae.
Shomoro stepped back. “What is going on in Terran space? The Council’s intelligence feeds have been swamped with news from Aival . . .” Confusion laced tension into her voice and the thoughts behind them. Her eyes moved to the black cylinder gripped in Pri’s lower tendrils. “And what is in that canister?”
«A sample you might find interesting,» she sent, setting the heavy canister down with a clunk. «It’s mature Fate’s Shears.»
Shomoro’s eyes went wide. She spoke in a whisper. “Where did you . . .”
«Gau Shesharrim. He was planning to release it—reprogrammed—into Diego Two.»
Pri could feel the Osk’s thoughts ratcheting up, tumbling over themselves as she considered and discarded a dozen questions. At last, one rose from the surf.
“So you made contact with him? With Gau?”
«Yes.» Her rebreather creaked as she expelled a heavy sigh. «But the situation has changed. There is … something you need to know.»
“So it was Gau.” Shomoro turned her face aside. She didn’t want Pri to see the distress on it, though it hardly mattered; the Drevl Char must be able to read it in her thoughts.
«I’m afraid so. I spent many months in close contact with him; his follower in all but truth. He could not hide his mind from me.» Pri’s thought-tone was somber. «Gau was the one who betrayed Za to Fate’s Shears.»
There never should have been a one, she thought bitterly. Since when did Osk start breaking our covenant toward each other?
“Well. We won’t be recruiting him, then.” She tapped her fingers on the leather arm of her couch, trying to collect herself. What had they really lost? At best it was a failed lead; even if she had located him long before his own plan came to fruition, Gau was never going to be a part of her alliance. He neither wanted nor needed the help of his own kind; Pri’s account had made that much clear.
And there were compensations. The chance to analyze a sample of Fate’s Shears was worth the months Pri had spent in the field. Then there was the one it had drawn out of the shadows . . .
“And you say Attarish knew about this?” she asked. A memory of his scent hovered in her nostrils, that memory all Shomoro had known about him until today.
«So it seemed. I was too far away to hear everything they said. Perhaps I would have learned more had I stayed, but—»
“But you had to leave before the situation deteriorated,” Shomoro interjected gently. “It was the right decision, Pri. There was no point risking your life more than you already had.”
Shomoro curled her upper body forward and slipped off the couch. She paced with her hands laced behind her back, turning the new pieces of information over in her mind. Gau Shesharrim—a potential ally revealed as an enemy. And Mose Attarish—the enemy of that enemy.
Who would he turn out to be for her?
Claws ticked on the floor as Pri stepped closer. «If nothing else, this has brought Mose Attarish into the open at last.» A tentative hope flooded the thought, tinged with calculation.
Shomoro paused, cocked her head. “What are you thinking, Pri?”
«That we are no longer the only ones who know about this seph hunter. Speculation was spreading in the Expansion’s news feeds even before I left. In a few months, the High Council’s intelligence will give us access to the same information.»
“Rumors,” she said—but the word quivered with excitement as she began to see what Pri was implying.
The Drevl Char’s antennae switched back and forth eagerly. «Those rumors will continue to grow. And as they do, we can follow them. We can trace them back to their source.»
Shomoro bared her teeth. “Notify the team. We have work to do.”
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About the Author
Caitlin Demaris McKenna is a science fiction author and editor at Scoria Press, LLC. She writes articles at the intersection of technology, new media, and society for Yellow Bear Media. A dedicated traveler, she has visited three continents and lived in Vancouver and New York. Her near-future science fiction tale "Where the Water Meets the Land", was published in 49th Parallels: Alternative Canadian Histories and Futures by Bundoran Press in September 2017. Absence of Blade is her first book.
Twitter: @CaitlinDMcKenna
Facebook: Caitlin Demaris McKenna
Acknowledgments
It takes a village to publish a book. I'd like to thank my beta readers, especially Frank Cernik, my partner in writing and in life; my awesome editor Karen Conlin; my proofreader Lora Friendenthal; and my cover designer, Daniel Lambert. Thanks also to my dad, for introducing me to science fiction all those years ago, and to my mom, for looking at my unwieldy collection of novellas and saying, "Do you think this could be a novel?"
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