Iron Truth

by S. A. Tholin

  Water. Drinking it would only exacerbate her attack, but the kindness helped, as did pressing the cool metal to her cheeks. Cassimer tapped the vehicle's control panel and fans began to whir, the air gradually cooling and freshening.

  "Clear your mind. Perceive the moment. Focus on your physical connection to the world. The seat. The canteen. My hand on your shoulder. Let yourself be grounded and from that anchor extend your awareness. Know that you are true. Know that you are pure." He hesitated before adding: "Know that you are safe."

  Something in his voice told her that he'd gone off script then; a far greater comfort than any rehearsed mantra.

  When the worst of the attack had passed, she unscrewed the canteen's lid and drank. The water had a strong chemical flavour, but it had to be the least polluted water she'd had in months, and that alone made it wonderful.

  "Thank you."

  He nodded and made to put his helmet back on again, but she wasn't ready to lose him just yet. She wanted the man, not the soldier, a little longer, no matter how selfish that was.

  "Rhys told me you used to wear an armoured suit like the RebEarther's. Is it because you fear a bad death that you don't anymore?"

  "No."

  It was a good minute before he spoke again.

  "Ereshkigal armour is cataphract recon gear - lightweight, built for relative speed. I served in a Helreginn class assault unit. Heavier suits, larger and far more durable."

  "Larger?" Hard to believe.

  "Much." He set down his helmet and gave her a pensive look. "The first time I wore my Helreginn suit in combat, my unit was airdropped from a thousand feet into a war zone. Ten seconds of falling through smoke, my visor spattered with plasma from evaporating enemy fire, electricity flaring as the active protection field diverted missiles, falling towards what looked like an open volcano. The enemy had been firebombing the city for days. Buildings blazed, glowing phosphorus bright. It was chaos, and if I could've, I would've clawed my way back up to the drop ship."

  Again there was a freshness to his words, a rawness, as if Cassimer was a vault of quiet secrets and untold things, and she alone had the combination.

  Because you don't matter. He's using you again, Joy, confiding in the one person who will never have the chance to betray his confidence. He thinks you'll be dead soon. By his hand or otherwise.

  "Then I touched ground. It quaked and fractured as my squad landed, and together we marched down city streets so hot that they had melted to slurry. By the time we reached the end of the first city block, I was no longer afraid. None of us were. A cataphract must sacrifice, must shed all but pure resolve. Fear was the first thing I lost. Not the last. After fourteen years of that, I... " He shrugged. "I wanted to see if I could have something different. Be something different."

  "And what is it that you want?"

  He looked at her, the darkness of his eyes threatening to swallow her.

  "To be a person. Not just..." He turned his gauntleted hands. "Not just a suit with a gun. Perhaps I waited too long. The rest of the team manage it, but I can only watch and wonder how."

  "It's actually really easy. Something you were born to do, in fact. Here, let me show you." She held out her hand. "Hi. I'm Joy."

  "I know," he said, with such utter confusion that she couldn't help but smile.

  "Play along, commander. Pretend we're meeting for the first time." In a way, maybe they were.

  Electricity sparked across her skin as his gauntlet closed around her hand, and she saw in his eyes that this was the right approach. He had chosen his path, but he needed lightness to guide his way, human contact to bolster his resolve.

  "Commander Cassimer."

  "No." She shook her head. "Try again."

  "Cass-"

  "Nuh-uh."

  "You want my first name."

  She nodded, and dismay darkened his face. The commander may be a man of few words, but he wasn't so hard to read.

  "You don't want to tell me. You're... embarrassed?" She bit her lip to stop herself from smiling. "Only a person would be embarrassed by their name, you realise that, yes? Looks like we're already making progress."

  "Not embarrassed," he said, clearly embarrassed.

  "Come on, I already know it starts with a 'C'; I saw your initials on the vial of blood. Surely it doesn't stand for Commander?"

  He withdrew his hand. "It's not about names. It's about regaining what was lost. About feeling."

  "You feel this, don't you?" She reached through the barrier of darkness and electricity. Her fingertips brushed tanned skin, ran across paler strips of new skin, across rough stubble and tense jawline.

  "Don't." He pulled away. "I can't -"

  "You can." She took his hand and pressed his palm to her own cheek. Her skin tingled underneath the gauntlet, but that was okay because he didn't pull away and now his fingers were moving, weaving through her hair -

  - the vehicle's door slid open, a gust of wind filling the interior with dust. Over the back of her seat, through a haze of grey, Joy could see the dark figure of a Primaterre soldier.

  "You left in a hurry." Rhys, addressing her as he threw bags into the back of the vehicle. "Too good to help out, are we?"

  "I found this car."

  If Rhys was here, then Gaius Feehan was dead, and she was speaking to a torturer and a killer. But he sounded like neither, and in his tone she recognised some of Finn's wry humour. Rhys was reasonable and Rhys was easy to talk to; Rhys was cruel and Rhys was cold. Such a man was hard to make sense of - unless, of course, he was two. Rhys the man - and Rhys, the suit with a gun.

  "Parked twenty feet from the train station. I'm in awe of your skill and effort."

  "Hey, if you don't like it, you can walk the rest of the way," she said, taking Rhys's own advice and targeting the man inside the suit.

  Rhys laughed, but then Cassimer spoke, his voice dark and low enough to smother any levity: "Is the Ereshkigal suit destroyed?"

  "Lucklaw's working on it. Ready to leave in five, Commander." Rhys slammed the vehicle's door shut.

  Cassimer wore his helmet once more, had somehow put it on in the ten seconds her attention had been turned to Rhys. Back to being the soldier - but that was all right, because that's who she needed now.

  "Duncan, the man who woke me aboard the Ever Onward..." She paused, suddenly nervous, but it had to be said. "He's the one who brought RebEarth here. He's with them now, at the crash site."

  "I know," Cassimer said. "Feehan told us. Said a few of his people were hiding out on Cato when a man named Duncan approached them with a deal. A ticket off-planet in return for an arc ship."

  "The vehicle has a radio. It's... it's turned off now, but I heard them talking, and they're still trying to get into the ship. Their people at the train station were waiting for the shipment of explosives."

  "I know. Lucklaw intercepted their comms."

  "And you knew that I'd overheard the radio conversation... you were waiting to see what I would do?"

  "No." He reached across her legs to press the ignition. "I knew what you would do, and I know what you'll ask next."

  The door opened again, and the vehicle heaved under the added weight of Rhys and Lucklaw.

  "Move it, civilian." Lucklaw motioned for her to vacate the driver's seat, and she obeyed, sliding past him into the seat behind Cassimer. The leather was tacky with spilled drink, and she had far too close a view of the rotting chicken wing, but it was nice to have Cassimer between her and the hostile world.

  The soldiers were back in mission mode. No more banter from Rhys nor insults from Lucklaw; the atmosphere changed, becoming charged with focus. Now or never, she had to ask.

  "Duncan's not a bad person."

  True, the coder had a mean streak and a propensity for standing just a little bit too close, but he didn't deserve to be gunned down. Didn't deserve to die like the RebEarthers.

  "It's been bad for him here on Cato, right from the start. He was alone onboard the ship for
a week, did I tell you that? He tried to wake others, but they all died because he didn't know what he was doing. This is the same thing all over again - he doesn't know, Cassimer."

  She leaned forward to ensure human contact, not wanting to give Cassimer the excuse of his suit to ignore her. She touched his shoulder lightly, unsure if he even noticed, though Lucklaw glared at her. "Please don't kill him."

  "He has experience with the Ever Onward's systems and may be in possession of valuable intel. If possible, he will be extracted."

  Neutral, professional, and as close to a promise as she'd get. Not much, but if life on Cato had taught her anything, it was to make do with scraps.

  23. Joy

  They abandoned the RebEarth vehicle five kilometres from the Ever Onward. In the bone-white mist of twilight, they trekked through a fulgurite forest so fresh that steam rose from the opalescent crust. The soldiers' heavy footsteps shook viscous droplets of molten glass from branches. Spider corpses hung suspended inside knotted trunks, curled or caught mid-skitter.

  The air was so charged with electricity that it was like breathing static. Soon it would be dark, and Joy knew well what this part of the planet was like after nightfall. The hissing of sand disturbed by hundreds of skittering spiders; the winds, howling through the mountains as though the jagged peaks had cut them deep. Cato was wilder here than near the farm or Nexus, desolate and untouched. It seemed eager to stay that way, and if it were up to her, she'd be happy to oblige.

  The three soldiers stopped. Cassimer turned towards her and held a finger to his visor. Quiet.

  A tablet in Lucklaw's hands crackled noisily, faint voices coming through the static.

  "...got the shelter up yet, don't want to get caught in a storm like the last one."

  "All done here, but where the hell are the explosives? Rather not spend the night. You seen the size of those critters? Like bloody dogs."

  "Train should've arrived by now. Lockwood, what the hell is taking so long? After a long pause, the voice spoke again; irritated and impatient. "Lockwood, do you read?"

  Lockwood didn't read. Lockwood would never read. Joy's borrowed white sneakers were splattered with his blood.

  "Got the supplies, but the god-damned car broke down. Engine's choked with dust. We're working on it," said Lucklaw, in a voice that was not his own.

  "Shit, Lockwood, if it's got you spitting curses it's got to be bad. Could send a truck to tow you?"

  "Don't bother, we should be up and running before too long."

  "Good. Can't wait to crack this treasure chest open."

  The channel went silent.

  "Nearly blew it there, kid, trying to talk tough." Rhys shook his head.

  "It's fine," Lucklaw said in his own voice. "They bought it. I mean, they did, right?"

  "How did you make your voice sound like Lockwood's?" Joy whispered, assuming it was all right for her to speak again.

  "Suit records everything. I modulated voice imprints on the way here just in case. It's a pretty clever trick." Lucklaw oozed smugness, and she supposed he'd earned it.

  "Clever, but basic," Rhys said. "If the names Feehan gave us are correct, most of the RebEarthers are veterans. They'll have seen enough combat to be familiar with Primaterre methods, and while they may not be expecting us, they are aware of our presence on Cato."

  "Yeah," Lucklaw said, shooting Joy a glare. "Thanks to a certain loose-lipped civilian."

  "Thanks to Albany's botched landing," Cassimer said.

  "She might've told them more. Who we are, why we're here, the location of our base. She should've been thoroughly interrogated."

  They were all looking at her now, all lights focused on her.

  "Joy," Cassimer said. "Answer truthfully. Did you give anyone intel on us?"

  If she tried to speak, she might cry - so she shook her head.

  "Good."

  "With all due respect, Commander," Lucklaw said, "that's not much of an interrogation."

  "Kid," Rhys said, "after what happened to Gaius Feehan, she's not likely to lie to us."

  ◆◆◆

  Lightning had turned miles of sloping dunes to a stretching glass ridge. Joy didn't recognise it or the surrounding landscape, but according to Lucklaw, the Ever Onward's crash site was in a valley just on the other side.

  The climb was difficult enough that even the Primaterre soldiers struggled to gain footing. Glass cut Joy's fingers until they bled, and she'd hardly made it more than a few feet before Cassimer rappelled down to secure a line around her waist.

  The white mist of twilight became the charcoal of night, and it was by the light of the stars alone that Joy reached the crest. Cassimer had climbed fast, making it to the top and hoisting her up there while the other soldiers still had quite some distance to cover. And so it was that the two of them were the first to see the Ever Onward.

  The groaning carcass sat wedged between mountain peaks. The scale-pattern of solar panels on its hull reflected the stars above, and here and there, lights still glimmered. The Ever Onward was not dead, but surely dying.

  Cassimer muttered something under his breath, so quiet that she couldn't make out the words, but there was no mistaking his tone. Awe, pure and simple.

  "Is she the first arc ship you've seen?"

  "Only three were launched after the Ever Onward. Then no more, not until..." The sentence ended abruptly, leaving uneasy silence in its wake.

  It's obvious they're trying to locate something, Duncan had said, and he had been right.

  "You weren't sent here for the Ever Onward, but for another arc ship, weren't you?"

  Cassimer's visor opened with a soft hiss. His eyes were as dark as the night sky.

  "Too much static for me to catch that. Repeat your question?" He shook his head almost imperceptibly, one finger tapping the side of his black gun.

  The message was as clear and sharp as glass. A flush crept across her cold-numbed cheeks as she realised the danger. They had to have known that she would figure it out eventually.

  At which point they intended to kill you, Finn whispered, but he was wrong. She thought the soldiers were intending to ignore it as long as she said nothing.

  "I see lights down in the valley." She nodded towards the darkness below, eager to change the subject.

  "A demolition crew. Five men, possibly six. Lucklaw will be able to tell us more." He closed his visor again, and she marvelled at how far he could see even without the aid of his armour. To her, the lights were distant smudges. "Tell me of the Ever Onward. What was she like?"

  The cryo pod had sealed around her long before departure, and her short time onboard and awake had passed in a nervous blur. Her first instinct was to tell him this, but in his voice was a note of longing that she didn't have the heart to ignore. This wasn't professional curiosity or intel gathering; this was Cassimer, asking for himself.

  "Incredible," she said and described the ship to him, doing her best to convey the unrivalled majesty of an architect ship. She described the spaceport and the shuttles, and the week-long Kirkclair celebrations, too. Every detail, no matter how trivial, seemed to interest him, and so she told him of her train ride to the spaceport, the music playing in the departures lounge and the complementary drinks that had run out long before she got there. She told him of the fire on the horizon and the news reports, of the crowds and the sounds and the smells. She told him of Finn and then went deeper still, telling him about herself. How she'd put on her best dress and spent two hours doing her hair. How she'd dropped her luggage running for the train, and how frightened she'd been. A nothing-special girl, about to become part of one of humanity's greatest ventures.

  "But the spaceport had a domed ceiling, displaying a projection of constellations and turning galaxies. It made me think about how when old stars die, they explode, dusting the universe with atoms. Carbon, oxygen, nitrogen - the stuff of stars, and the building blocks of life. And when the crew hustled us passengers onboard the Ever Onward and through
its pristine corridors, I kept thinking about how we were all once a star, and that maybe home is wherever stars shine."

  "Starlight is only electromagnetic radiation. It has no deeper meaning."

  "Life is biology. Thoughts are electricity. Love is chemistry. Being able to see the pieces of the puzzle makes the image more complex, but no less wondrous. A star explodes, and a billion years later I sit here with you. Two specific and unique formations of atoms that were never meant to meet - or maybe already met, forged inside the same sun. We are all miracles, Cassimer, and so is the universe."

  "The universe is cold ash. It's the glass that cut you. It's the blood on your fingers and the twisted wreckage of an arc ship."

  "Yes, all those things too - but I can still see the stars," she said and smiled, because his dark visor glimmered with the reflections of alien constellations.

  He said nothing, though she could all but hear his thoughts grinding away. The commander was quiet, but his mind was not. She could see it in his eyes, had felt its heat on his skin - a fever of the soul that wouldn't let him rest, wouldn't let him be.

  ◆◆◆

  "Stars, would you look at that thing? It's massive." In spite of his armour and augments, Rhys had pulled himself panting onto the crest. He crouched next to Lucklaw, observing the Ever Onward through binoculars.

  "Three point six kilometres from stem to stern." Though such information was probably readily available in Cassimer's primer database, Joy felt sure he spoke from memory. As she knew the names of the crew of the ancient Mary Celeste by heart (but struggled to recollect binomial nomenclature), he knew about century old ships. Not a professional requirement, but a personal interest.

  "See that broken-off bit, high in the mountains? That's where my cryo pod was," she said, eager to place herself in the context of something Cassimer cared about.

  The Ever Onward's tail section remained skewered on the craggy peaks, half-buried by dust. Fulgurite grew thick both around and inside of it, and she was reminded yet again of how fortunate she'd been to survive.