“And you!” Jay said in a higher-pitched voice than usual. Stefanos looked confused until he realized Jay wasn’t talking to him anymore. Seven had woken up after being jostled by the kiss and now looked up at her human with vaguely indignant green eyes. “And we still have Rowan, even if everything’s a little messed up right now. Or a lot messed up.”
“We do, and that’s not all. Annie’s safe and sound. Somehow, Mihir’s little brother made it here of all places—and Indra’s a great kid all on his own. Radio Angel’s still speaking out, and someday someone will hear. Aliyah’s still steering us through the storm. We’ve lost a lot, but not everything.”
“Yeah.” A smile spread across Jay’s face, slow but real. “I might even have Regan.”
“And he’s right. You will find your answers and you won’t be alone when you do. No matter what they turn out to be.”
They were quiet for a while, just standing together in the very-early-morning stillness.
“I’m sure about one thing,” Jay finally said.
“What’s that?”
He took Stefanos’s hand and ran his thumb over the wedding band he wore. “Still glad you said yes.”
“And I’m glad you asked.”
* ☆ *
After Stefanos left a couple minutes later, Indra emerged from the outside corridor and quietly stepped onto the bridge. Jay caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and looked up, mouth already open—then he shut it again and looked away as soon as he saw who it was.
“Uh hi,” Indra said, stopping in the middle of the room and giving an awkward wave. Seven was staring at him too, and he suddenly felt very exposed and somehow judged by the robotic cat. Or at least evaluated. “Please don’t leave. I’ve been wanting to talk to you this whole time.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Jay sighed, setting Seven down and pinching the bridge of his nose. She sat directly on his foot. “Here I am, you caught me. Now how much did you hear?”
“Enough to know you knew my brother.” Indra gave a small, humorless laugh entirely unlike his real one. “But I didn’t even need to hear anything to know that.”
Jay looked up, studying him for a moment, then threw up his hands in defeat. “Fine, I’ll ask: how do you know I knew your brother? We haven’t even been in the same room for more than five seconds this entire trip—totally immature on my part, yes, I’ll admit, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for a lot of things, believe it or not.”
“Well, there’s that,” Indra shrugged. “You run away every time I walk into a room. And you won’t talk to me, you won’t even look at me. You do the thing where you look at my face real fast, then look away, like anywhere but—there, that! You’re doing it right now.”
Jay stopped mid-motion, seeming to realize for the first time exactly what he was doing as Indra described it. “Okay. I might have done that. Couple times. I said I was sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize.” Indra shook his head, hair brushing across his shoulders. “I get it a lot. People do that when I remind them of him. I know we look a lot alike and it freaks people out. You’re not doing anything my whole family hasn’t done for like, years. Just a little more obviously. Never had anybody actually run away from me before.”
“I don’t know what I thought I was doing.” Jay stared at a point on the floor. “Just that I didn’t know how to have that conversation with you. Or any conversation. I guess I was hoping somehow you wouldn’t notice? Until I could think of what to say?”
“Seriously?” Indra almost laughed.
“I don’t know!” Jay groaned. “Listen, this isn’t how I wanted to—”
“It’s fine.” Indra was serious again in a moment but his voice didn’t shake or falter. “Forget it. We’re talking now. And I want to talk more—like about what you were saying a minute ago. About proof and what really happened the night he died.”
Slowly, Jay turned to face him. “I don’t even know if it’s true. So don’t get your hopes up, okay? It’s just a theory.”
“Sounded like a pretty good theory to me.” A very slow smile spread across Indra’s face and Jay’s eyes flicked away again. “Anyway, it’s better than the alternative. I’d much rather believe my big brother died a hero trying to prevent a catastrophe, than for no reason at all. That’s a way better story.”
Jay was quiet for a moment. “Even if we find out it’s not true?”
“I still have to see what he saw.” Indra’s eyes stung, but he didn’t move an inch. “It’s just gonna bug me otherwise. Don’t you hate not knowing how a story ends?”
“Closure is a hell of a painkiller.” Jay’s shoulders dropped. “I mean, I assume.”
“And I’d really like to know who killed him. And what we do about that.”
“Now, that we can agree on.”
Indra spent a few seconds deep in thought. When he spoke next, it was in a much lighter tone than before. “So, there was so much going on before, I never really told you, but I’ve always been a big fan of your work.”
“Oh, really?” Jay looked up, raising his eyebrows and brightening somewhat as well. “Your brother tell you tales of cyber-chills and techno-thrills, or do the legends speak for themselves? They’re all true, by the way. I try to live up to my own hype, but let me tell you, I do not make it easy.”
Indra stared at him for a second. “I just lost a bet.”
“What?”
“I thought he was making it up. I thought nobody could actually talk like that in person. But there it is.” He nodded, looking pensive. “I owe Mihir ten bucks.”
“So he did tell you about me,” Jay sounded hesitant, as if unsure whether that was good or bad.
Indra nodded. “He said he had a friend named Cyborg. He was super smart, super cool, and knew everything about computers. Cyborg was so good he could talk to anybody in the world, open any door, find out any secret. He saved a whole lot of people in Parole. Basically a superhero. Even if he didn’t have powers, when almost everybody else did. Didn’t need ‘em. Did it all by himself.”
Indra paused to glance up at Jay, who was staring into space. “Except he had one problem. Cyborg couldn’t shut up to save his life, and he had this…really funny way of talking. Mihir told me about it once—I was only, what, nine? I was nine and I didn’t believe him. I thought he was making you up! I bet him ten bucks you weren’t real, nobody talked like that—sorry, no offense—and he said okay, fine! I’ll take your ten dollars, and I’ll introduce you to Cyborg, and you’ll hit it right off. He’ll make you laugh, he’ll tell you awesome stories about hacker adventures, and you’ll love him, because he makes me happy too.”
“That’s…thanks for that. I, um. Wish we’d gotten…” Jay cleared his throat and took a moment. “Except, it’s ‘Cybor-Jay.’ Not Cyborg. Say the hard ‘G’ part like ‘Juh’. Jay.”
“Sure,” Indra nodded easily. “Like ‘JIF’.”
Now it was Jay’s turn to stare at Indra, whose careful poker-face slowly spread into a wide grin. “You little troll, you set me up. You knew I’d take the bait, and I…” Slowly, Jay shook his head. “The resemblance really is uncanny.”
“Sorry!” Indra’s shoulders were shaking and this time he wasn’t sobbing. “I had to. I just—I had to, ever since—I got so confused. See, Mihir never called you by your screen name, just Jay. And I only ever saw ‘CyborJ’ written out later, so I didn’t know…I just never connected it in my head. So…” He gestured vaguely, then just shook his head, laughing some more. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. I just thought it was funny.”
“And from the confusion…brilliance.” Jay let out a long, contented sigh. But then, uncertainty crept back into his eyes along with ten years’ worth of grief. “But was any of it true? Or was it just a setup for a punchline?”
“It’s all true.” Indra wasn’t laughing anymore, but he wasn’t in pain either. “Some things you don’t joke about. But some things you do. Maybe the most important things.”
>
“Easier said than done,” Jay said quietly. “And coming from me, that should say something.”
“I just don’t think he’d want you to feel nothing but pain when you thought about him, you know? That’s the opposite of what he’d want.” A faint, genuine smile crossed his face. “When I was a kid, and Parole first—happened? I think my brother knew it was about to get bad. But he wanted me to have some good things to hang onto too. He gave me my first deck of cards. He always tried to make sure I felt safe. And laugh when we could. So…I dunno, that’s just something I try to tell myself, anyway. Feeling good and happy is a way of keeping his memory alive too. He’d be cool with that. It’s okay to laugh.”
Jay smiled.
Rowan lay in a hammock that swayed gently back and forth. Above was a huge, thick tree limb covered in moss and, past that, the softly glowing lights. This tiny oasis of peace could have been a dreamy scene from the outside world they’d left behind long ago. But the hum of the ship's engines mingled with the faint howling of Tartarus' rising winds picking up outside.
“Should reach the next beacon soon.” Above, leaning against the huge, moss-cushioned trunk, Aliyah spread out one wing and separated its long, gleaming pinions one by one, carefully running her fingers down each smooth feather and ensuring none had bent or, worse, broken. Even a single bit of mislaid downy fluff could throw off her aerodynamics and, at the wrong moment, an off-kilter turn could be deadly.
“What?” Rowan said after several seconds.
“I said,” Aliyah leaned forward a bit to peer down at them. “Next beacon coming up quick. Feeling up to it today or shall we cool our heels here for a bit, make sure we’re all at our sharpest?”
Even if Rowan was looking up toward her, they clearly weren’t in the present. They stared past Aliyah, past the tree and flower-lights, past the dark ceiling. After another moment of silence, Rowan gave their head a little shake, large horns bumping against the hammock sides. “What?”
“Nothing,” Aliyah sighed and went back to straightening out her wing. “Question answered.”
“I’m sorry.” Rowan sat up a little, and now they looked her in the eye. “I was somewhere else. But I’ll be fine when we get to the next beacon, really. Today's fine.”
“You sure?” She fixed them with an appraising stare. “I’d much rather wait and go out fresh and focused than rush out before we’re ready.”
“I’ll be focused. It’s good for me to focus on something and stay in the moment. Adrenaline’s good for that.”
“I’ll give you that one. And I suppose nothing gets the adrenaline pumping like running straight up a very high tower. Still…”
“I’m fine. Really. I’ll be clear and alert and we’ll get it done. Everything else stays behind on the ship.” They gave a rueful smile and sank back down. “It’ll be there when I get back.”
“It’s all right to not be fine,” Aliyah said in a level tone after a few seconds of quiet. “We’ve got a job to do, yes, but that doesn’t mean you have to keep it all in.”
Rowan didn’t reply.
“It’s all right to say nothing at all,” she continued. “Sometimes words fail. But if you ever find the words, I’m listening.”
Still no response. Aliyah wasn’t sure whether she’d gone too far or not enough. She didn’t know what to make of that either. Rowan had never been hard for her to read, and vice-versa.
"I know our circle seems frighteningly small at the moment,” she said, trying one more cautious advance. “But it's not gone. You do have people still right here with you. Me, for instance. Annie." She watched Rowan's face as she spoke, but they remained unusually enigmatic. "Jay, Stefanos."
"I know,” they said at last, and their voice was quiet but controlled instead of the tight near-sob she expected. “I haven’t forgotten you. Or them. But times change. We've all changed too. Especially Jay and Stefanos—and me. My circle was always small, but they're in it. Regan, Zilch, you... and them. That should say something."
"It certainly does. You've been in firmly established domestic bliss with two of that circle for eight years... and then there's us." Aliyah shot them a grin. "I'm sure the remaining two would be honored to know they're in such good company."
"They know." Rowan's voice was much more short, flat, and low than she expected. "Or knew, at least. It doesn't matter anymore. Not after all this."
"One could argue that times like these are precisely when strengthening the bonds of love and togetherness and all is most important. One does, in fact."
Rowan shook their head, horns rustling against the hammock fabric. "Maybe if things were different. But so much has changed, it's like we're different people. I don't recognize any of us."
"Some things never change. They still love you. They still want you to be happy."
"I know. And I miss that—sometimes I actually miss them. Because now it's like we're all in the same room, but miles apart. And I can't even think about..." Rowan did seem to be thinking hard, however, brow furrowing as it did whenever they searched for an elusive perfect word. "I can't believe Jay really thinks Regan's a traitor."
"I don't think he does either. I believe he's just planning for every possible worst-case scenario, as he is most prone to doing even in the best of times."
"I know—if he really thought that, I'd..." They stopped, and even she had trouble reading their expression. For a moment they seemed frozen in place, then shook it off, and continued. "I don't know what I'd do. But that's not the point. I just never thought I'd hear him say that."
"A lot of things happened we didn't plan. We knew the collapse was coming but that was about it. Everything else, we're making up as we go along."
Rowan was quiet for a few seconds, finally speaking in slow, measured words. "When Parole collapsed, it felt like everything else collapsed with it. Including whatever we had. Or started. Or might have been. We're just not who we were."
"All right." Aliyah held up her hands, wings spreading slightly as well. "You all know yourselves best, so I'll back off. Maybe it's a captain thing, wanting to sort out her crew, smooth and streamline. I just hate seeing you struggle like this, especially when you used to actually prop each other up, like a three-legged stool."
"Well, that's the other thing.” Rowan gave a soft, humorless, exhausted laugh. "I did have exactly that. Regan and Zilch. They are always on my mind—the absence of them. They're missing stool legs. Until they're safe and I'm not falling over every second, I'll never be able to think about anything else."
"And that I do understand." Aliyah gave an apologetic smile, though she felt about exhausted as Rowan looked. "Triage. Take care of immediate injuries, conserve your energy and dedicate it to the most pressing need, focus on what you can save, decide what to let go. Been a while since EMT training, but it comes back."
Rowan sucked in a breath, looking up at the illusion of the starry night sky through eyes that blurred and stung. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Some nights I'm not very glad to be here,” she said wearily. “I’d much prefer a private beach or five-star hotel, a lovely spa, anywhere without the constant looming threat of death. This particular vacation spot gets three stars at best. There’s a terrifying military force outside and a toxic wasteland devouring the world! Unacceptable. Yes, I have several complaints, now that I think about it.”
“Our sincere apologies, Ma’am.” Rowan sniffed, but they were smiling.
“The company, however, gets me much closer to ‘glad’.” Satisfied with the state of her wings, Aliyah sighed and leaned back against the tree, arms behind her head. “Though I still have some grievances for the front desk.”
“Listening and ready.”
“Well, let’s see. Workplace environment is creatively and personally fulfilling, I suppose—but safety standards are abysmal.” Her voice dropped. “Has failed to meet professional and personal expectations. I signed on for a continued happy life with a noisy, chaotic, but loving famil
y, parents, sister, cousins, aunties, several little tiny sprouts running about. Life interrupted by unforeseen circumstances in form of hellish dystopia. Most dissatisfied. Are you getting all this?”
“Taking detailed mental notes, Ma’am. Anything we can do to improve your stay?”
She grinned and her voice brightened again. “Well, let’s see. They say ‘a good woman is hard to find’—and I don’t think that’s true, not in the slightest, have you seen women lately? Marvelous. But I haven’t seen any, not out here in this blasted place. I suppose she is hard to find, at that.”
Rowan actually laughed. “A good woman? No, she really isn’t. You’re so much braver than I am—or you’re better at hiding it.”
“That's rich. I’m scared to death every minute.”
“But you do it anyway.” When Rowan smiled at her, it was much more tired than happy.
“Oh, do not turn the captain’s big chair into a pedestal! Much too lonely up there. Listen, the moment I step on the bridge I’m supposed to be detached and make snap decisions with my head, based on logic and strategy, but it doesn’t work that way. The heart rules as well. If I recognize that, it makes it a little easier to actually make good decisions instead of awful ones.”
“I’m glad you told me. You don’t have to be bulletproof all the time, Aliyah.”
“Have to be if the bridge is yours, or the bridge falls down,” she sighed. “Doesn’t help anyone if I burst into tears at the drop of a hat, much as I’d like to some days.”
"You can if you need to. Everybody does sometimes."
She looked over at them, mouth open, then seemed to think better of what she'd been about to say. Her next words were in a softer tone than her last. "It's always easier to say that to someone else, isn't it?"
"I guess so." Rowan wasn't looking at her. Or listening anymore, their vacant expression and murmured reply would suggest.
"We just have to complete this one mission," Aliyah reaffirmed, more to herself than Rowan. “This one dreadful, ghastly, most distressing mission. Nothing lasts forever, not even storms—and it’s a good thing. I’ve had it with this vacation too, just as much as you have. Time to get back home where we belong.”
The Lifeline Signal Page 31
