Deus: The Eurynome Code, Book Six

by Gorman, K.

  In the middle of the ship, the ramp closed. A notification appeared in the corner of her screen to indicate the ship had confirmed an air lock.

  She pressed the comms tab on her wrist again. “Captain Tavano, we’re ready here. Please arrange with Captain Arnelli for departure. Once we get the signal, follow us out on the route path.”

  “Yes, Regent,” came the reply.

  An alarm sounded in the hangar outside. On the cameras, the few techs and soldiers who were still left in the room headed toward the exits, and a countdown timer appeared in the corner of her screen.

  I’m not sure how the Centauri and Fallon systems integrate so well, but I will assume that it is Centauri doing, she remarked.

  Tia laughed. Still pissed at Fallon?

  Of course. Aren’t you?

  Oh, yes. They’re lucky you were in charge. I would have killed Crane, tactically advantageous or not.

  She leaned back in the chair, watching the hangar doors on the rear camera. Thirty seconds until open.

  “How are you doing?” she asked Tylanus.

  “Fine.” His voice was velvet smooth. Deep, with a warm cadence. “You?”

  “Also ‘fine.’ Do you think she’s hurt the kids, yet?”

  “No. And she can’t do them all at once. She would have to get them one by one, if they weren’t willing.”

  A slip of anger smoldered across the center of her chest, and her mind churned. She resisted the urge to bare her teeth as her Program’s protective streak ran through her.

  She was Eurynome. These were her children, all of them. Her responsibility. And Sasha had taken them.

  All she wanted to do was save the kids, rip Sasha apart, and come home. And she was pretty sure that, were she still the old Karin, she would be feeling much the same.

  Eurynome only heightens instincts that were already there, Tia said.

  They were already there because you coded them into my genetic makeup, she replied.

  She shook her head, scattering the thoughts. “Do you know where she’s keeping her Cradle?”

  “Yes,” he said. “She’s built it into the main temple.”

  It took her a moment to process that.

  Temple?

  “Don’t tell me she built it on a mountain, and she named the mountain ‘Olympus.’”

  “She did.”

  She closed her eyes. “So, here we are, three people designed after varying interpretations of Grecian Creation Myths, and we’re going to go to her new temple and kick her off Mount Olympus?” She leaned her head back and met Baik’s stare across the room. “Can you fucking believe this?”

  I wonder what new world she made that makes her think it’s so much better than this one, Tia thought.

  “Ten seconds,” Reeve said. “Everyone belted up?”

  She clipped her harness in, then reached forward and hit the internal comms. “’Miki, you good?”

  “We’re good,” came the response.

  Then, the hangar doors began to open, and the two ships lifted off with a subtle jerk and the silent burn of their ion thrust.

  The journey out proved uneventful. With the Nemina in the lead, they slipped out of the hangar and flew toward Earth. Two support vessels from the fleet broke formation and came with them, a last-minute addition to the mission―they would stay in this world at a distance from the UN-designated site and provide backup and support, either during the mission or after, in closer range of Karin’s warping abilities.

  If they suddenly needed an army to fight their way to the temple, she would have one.

  With the tracking signatures on the right of the screen and the Nemina’s thrust engine vibrating the floor, they turned right and headed into Earth’s gravity well.

  Soon, cloud-swirled brown, blue, and green vision of the globe filled the viewscreen.

  They were above the Pacific, with an easy view of North and Central America.

  “Finlai Center Core on screen,” Reeve said.

  She saw them, her nav dashboard lighting them up in green at the side of the window. Three ships had broken formation and were heading closer at a non-intercepting angle.

  Irritation slipped into her blood. She tapped her comms button. “Captain Arnelli?”

  “Yes, Regent?”

  “Please use your own discretion if Finlai Center Core makes a move in my absence. Do whatever you need to defend the fleet.”

  “Yes, Regent.”

  “Thank you, Captain.”

  Tillerman chuckled. “You’re giving him a lot of leeway.”

  “Shouldn’t I be? Or does Centauri prefer its captains in choke holds?”

  Shaking her head, she glanced at the nav screen and flicked a few switches on the dashboard to toggle the windows with the camera views. Behind them, the gleaming gold and white form of the Artemide had engaged her thrusters and was accelerating further into her orbital range.

  She switched to the frontal camera and sat back, watching Earth approach.

  Then,

  “Eos.”

  She jumped in her seat, part of her suit kicking the wall with a hard clunk. She barely felt the impact in her ankle.

  The Shadow stood behind her, less than a foot from the back of her chair, its form slowly shifting and undulating, its borders blurred in a mirror’s edge that was hard to directly look at.

  Then, just as quickly as it had appeared, it dissipated, unfolding into a fog and vanishing from view.

  By the intake of breath around her, she wasn’t the only one who’d seen it.

  She turned her gaze to Tylanus. “Any comment on that?”

  “No,” he said. “Shadows are weird.”

  “And they’re outside your jurisdiction, being not creations of your mother’s, yeah, yeah.” She sighed. “Right, well. Same plan. Reeve, take us down.”

  Twenty minutes later, they landed in Canada.

  The Saskatchewan prairie surprised them by being relatively warm and verdant for a late-Fall month. Though ten degrees wasn’t particularly warm, considering she’d been basking around with Brazil as a base for the past week, it was far warmer than the minus-four-to-eight-degree range of Tia’s memory―especially since they’d landed at night.

  Climate shift, she thought to Tia. It happened all around the world, helped along by the nuclear bomb drops.

  Shouldn’t that have created a nuclear winter? Tia thought back. I distinctly remember hearing about ‘nuclear winter’ rather than ‘nuclear summer.’

  I guess there weren’t enough bombs dropped to turn the planet into a wasteland, thankfully.

  The grass was long and dry, its ends tipped with lines of seeds, and made a hissing sound where it rustled against the Nemina’s belly. The sun had set long ago―it was nearing eight p.m. local time, according to the Nemina’s dashboard―and the land was so flat, it felt like the sky went on forever.

  Every so often, patches of bushier plants provided a darker contrast against the landscape.

  Tylanus followed her off the ramp. He’d pulled his hair into a messy bun, and someone on her team―Tillerman, she suspected―had had him kitted out in basic combat protection. The armor wasn’t quite as sophisticated as her design, looking more like a cross between a diving suit and an armored leotard, but it did give off a Novan superhero black ops vibe.

  Actually, Moon Sailor had run a spin-off focusing on Veronica, the elite super spy femme fatale character, and it looked similar to what her super spy black ops ex-husband had worn during the missions.

  They’d passed Soo-jin in the hall mid-way through her first beer, and the woman had practically lusted after the outfit.

  At least, she hoped it was the outfit she had been lusting after. For some reason, she really didn’t want to think about Soo-jin having a crush on Tylanus.

  “All right, everyone ready?” she called, seeing the small squadron of Centauri gathered at the bottom of their ramp, their silver armor glinting in the lights of the ships.

  “Yes, Regent.”r />
  “Good. Switching over. Don’t shoot any Shadows.”

  She glanced around, got an anchor on where everyone was, and pulled.

  Energy thrashed through her mind. The world shifted around her. The sky and its stars vanished, and the throb of a headache flared briefly, then left. At one point, it felt like she was out of breath, like she was grasping to catch everyone and switch them over.

  Then, it was like someone else took over and guided her hand.

  Everything clicked together. The world stopped shifting.

  And the Shadow stood behind her.

  She turned around, opened her eyes, and faced it. “Hello, Shadow.”

  “Eos,” it said, its voice leaving a psychic impression.

  Beside her, Tylanus stood very still, watching it.

  “You are going to her?” it said.

  She frowned. “Yes.”

  “You will stop her?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Then I will help you.”

  And, with that, it stepped forward.

  She had just enough time to squawk and jerk back before it funneled into a diaphanous form and rushed into her, sliding into her bones, smothering her.

  For one full second, sound and light cut out. All she knew was darkness.

  Then, the world came back.

  Flecks of light floated in the air, evidence of her Eos powers. Around her, almost everyone had taken half a step forward or back, their expressions a mixture of shock, horror, and surprise.

  “What the fuck was that?” Nomiki said.

  She’d taken the longest leap, her laser-edged blade in her hand, the supersonic whine in the air indicating it was turned on.

  In answer, she turned her attention to Tylanus and raised an eyebrow.

  He lifted his hands in denial. “Hey, don’t look at me. I told you: Shadows are weird.”

  “Your mother managed to use them. You, too.”

  “Well, yes. We can communicate with them, even control them to a degree. They share a common thread with both of our powers.”

  Right. Sure.

  “In other words, they’re basically aliens.”

  “Well, no. They are linked to the human psyche. Therefore, they can’t be alien.”

  “You managed to talk through them,” she said. “So did Tia, come to think of it.”

  “Does it matter?” Nomiki said.

  “No, I suppose not.” Guess she’d just have to take this one for the ride. She shook her head, then turned back to Tylanus. “So, how shall we do this? Where are you taking us?”

  “I will take you to the base of the mountain,” he said. “Or as close as I can get to it without triggering her perimeter defenses.”

  ‘Perimeter defenses’? That sounded fun. Too bad they didn’t have any time to make a better plan. She’d done all she could to brief the Centauri on what they would face, especially with regards to the Shadows, the Sentinels, and any other possible monsters Sasha might have concocted in the interim.

  I suppose she is a Creation deity. Making things is kind of her thing.

  Her gaze scanned over the dark, brooding expanse of the Canadian prairie, then to the void-black clouds above. As before, the Shadow world had a band of lighter-colored atmosphere between the clouds and the horizon, the sky above blurring into columns as if by rain.

  Tia, you still in there?

  Yes. Not eaten by any weird Shadow.

  Anything feel different?

  No.

  Good.

  “Let’s go,” she said.

  To her surprise, Tylanus held his hand out to her. “Take my hand.”

  She frowned, lifting her hand to his. With a gentle grip, he clasped it and lowered it down so they hung between them.

  Then, she felt him pull.

  His power was different from hers. Where hers hit like the punch of a tide, his was subtler. The world didn’t so much twist and jump around them as it simply faded.

  She watched as the details in the Shadow world slowly vanished to nothing.

  For one solid second, there was nothing around. Everywhere was empty.

  Then, light crept in. And sound. And scent.

  The next thing she knew, she was standing in a long, green field, smelling the light tint of sweetgrass in the air and listening to the breeze rustle through the leaves.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Eva leaned in her office chair toward the bassinet, reaching through to tuck her fingers around Tylanus’ tiny elbow. He was sleeping right now, a rarity when she was in the office. He was an active baby, very bouncy, and with a cry that could pierce the air.

  She giggled. Elliot had already complained about it.

  But he was hers, and she was so happy.

  As a creation Program, she needed something to devote herself to. And her work on the Project had been driving her mental.

  She’d transferred to the Project’s new headquarters in Macedonia two years ago. University hadn’t been hard, not when she’d already studied most of the subjects. She completed her first degree in medicine, then a second in genetic engineering. Neurology was a passing hobby she never quite got the hang of, but knew more than most about.

  They’d applauded her, given her a job, let her find her feet in Seirlin’s Novan labs.

  Then, she’d transferred back to Eurynome.

  It had been a strange twist, and one she didn’t altogether enjoy. Now that she’d grown up and studied, she knew precisely how preposterous the Project sounded. She also knew what an asshole Bernard Corringham tended to be. He kept the Project in an iron grip, which she both approved of and disapproved of, and, now that she worked ‘behind the curtain,’ it was as if the Project’s rose-colored tint had faded into a scummy brown.

  They weren’t out to save the world. The things they did here, though they were great and they worked, were not typical for a lab.

  She hadn’t touched her powers in years.

  And now, she was supposed to pretend she was not part of that anymore. That she was simply a doctor trying to help the new Eurynome subjects manifest their powers and complete their Programs.

  It felt like she was dressing in the skin of a snake.

  It was worth it―she knew that. When they succeeded, their research would change the world.

  But they were still hurting people. Children. And they had to make a lot of sacrifices to get there.

  Tylanus made it better. Though he was, technically, part of the Project, he was hers.

  Her baby.

  She could help him where no one else could.

  And she loved him more than she loved the rest of the world.

  God, I didn’t know so much love until you came along.

  Smiling, she rocked his bassinet, memorizing the tiny, sleeping look on his face.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  A breath escaped her, then another, and a cool breeze lifted against her cheek and neck. Karin stared, rotating slowly to take it all in.

  It looked like it had come from an old, whimsical painting. The party stood on a stone road in the shade of a forested mountain slope. Beside them, the edge of the road dipped into a steep, grassy slope and ran into a loose collection of lush green fields over rolling hilltops, segmented by sections of mountain that stepped in like forested feet, the thick growth of wild riparians, and a slow moving snake of a river that gleamed in the distance.

  A sharp, pained gasp hissed through Tylanus’ mouth, and his grip tightened on hers.

  He sank to the ground, clutching his abdomen.

  “Tylanus?” She bent down next to him, still holding his hand. “Are you okay?”

  His other hand was clenched so hard, the knuckles had turned white with small splotches of red. The skin on his face had paled, and his black eyes stared straight ahead, narrowed with pain.

  One of the Centauri team parted from the group to come over, slinging her rifle over her shoulder and pulling on the Med bag she wore.

  But, before she
could make it, the pain seemed to pass―or at least lessen. With a heavy grip on her hand, he leveraged himself back up, only wobbling a bit when he stood.

  “I’m fine. It’s just…” He winced and closed his eyes again. “When I come here, I feel it more. She’s already changed so much.”

  Ah. She understood. They were in Tartarus, his world. One he was connected to intrinsically. The world that Sasha was using to create her own new one.

  Because, of course, she couldn’t use her own world. She, as its new base, would need to survive the process.

  Her lip curled.

  Well, she already sacrificed one child for herself. And is willingly about to murder several hundred more.

  Gods, this was fucked up.

  She let go of his hand and stepped back, tilting her head toward the peak. Though she’d never explored Mount Olympus personally, she’d seen pictures of it. So far, the forested slope, and the height, matched what she’d seen in the pictures, but she had her doubts about the peak. Though she only caught a glimpse of it past the trees, she was willing to bet that Sasha had taken some artistic license in its design―though it looked high, with a faint slip of clouds ringing its outward edge, she could already see the beginnings of the temple complex, and the rock itself had a far lusher tint than its bare-faced, scree-filled counterpart on Earth.

  But then, this was Sasha’s creation. And she was making a literal ‘realm of the gods.’

  Fucking hell.

  “You mentioned she had defenses,” she said. “What are they? Can we fly up there?”

  He hesitated. “Yes. Provided we don’t use any of our powers, we should be able to get within a kilometer of the temple entrance without triggering her defense.”

  “What if we did trigger her temple defense?” Tillerman asked. “What does she have? Shadows and Sentinels?”

  Karin had explained the name she’d given to the creatures with the scythe blades to him.

  “Yes,” he said. “Among other things.”

  “She also has powers. I saw her create walls of darkness before. My light can get through them, but not without effort.”

  “Can she manipulate the dimension itself?” Nomiki, dressed in her Fallon klemptas and followed by Jon’s similarly-dressed hulk, joined her side, also squinting up at the mountain. “Like when she almost closed us off in that other pocket dimension of hers?”