“Where are we?” Atta asked.
Therius regarded her with a smile. “I was hoping someone would ask me that.” He walked over to the far wall of the room. Destra noticed that wall was glowing with some kind of internal radiance. Therius waved his hands at the wall, and the source of the radiance became clear. The wall turned from opaque and glowing to transparent and shining with the dazzling light of day. A bright blue sky sprawled overhead. Far below, fields of green grass stretched out to the nearby shore of a lavender-hued lake. Destra saw mountains, jungles, glaciers…
She shivered as goosebumps prickled her skin. Sparks flew inside her brain. She recognized this place. But that was impossible. It was just an acute case of déjà vu. So many habitable worlds looked alike that this one must have triggered an old memory from somewhere else.
“Recognize it?” Therius asked, turning Destra’s rationalizations to dust.
“I don’t believe it…” Farah whispered.
“This is Origin,” Therius replied.
“The birthplace of humanity,” Farah added, still whispering.
“Welcome back.” Therius’s gaze traveled around the room, finding each of them in turn and finally settling on Torv. “All of you.”
Chapter 15
“Ceyla, this is Valari Thardris, my aunt and foster mother.”
Valari smiled and held out a hand.
“It’s so great to meet you,” Ceyla said. “Darin has told me a lot about you.”
“Has he now?” Valari replied. Atton saw her arch an eyebrow at him, but Ceyla missed the exchange. “Please, come in,” Valari went on. “Dinner is almost ready.”
Atton waited for Ceyla to go in first. She seemed to be looking everywhere at once. A winding staircase led up from the foyer. High above the sparkling indigo floor hung a lavish crystal chandelier.
“You have a beautiful place, Valari,” Ceyla said as she walked into the penthouse.
“Thank you, dear.”
“What is it you do?” Ceyla asked, looking up at the crystal chandelier and the winding staircase.
Valari waved her hand dismissively. “Nothing really. It’s all inherited,” she said.
“Oh.”
Valari turned and led the way to the dining room, her flowing white evening gown shimmering as she walked.
Atton placed a hand at the small of Ceyla’s back, urging her forward. As they walked, she leaned over and whispered, “You didn’t mention your aunt was so wealthy.”
“I didn’t think it mattered,” he replied.
They walked through a lavish living room with high, tray ceilings, recessed lighting and plush white carpets to cover the sparkling indigo floor. Then they came to the dining room—a long white table with Valari’s black arachnoid chandelier hanging overhead.
Valari sat at the head of the table, while Atton and Ceyla sat beside one another in the middle, facing the view. Atton watched the shining rivers of air traffic, allowing his eyes to drift out of focus.
Then came a clanking sound and a distinctive whirring of mechanical parts. Atton’s head snapped up and his eyes darted to find a pair of drones emerging from Valari’s kitchen, one carrying glasses, the other, two bottles of wine.
Beside him, Ceyla tensed and turned to him, her eyes full of alarm. Atton’s cheeks were already bulging with his next lie when Valari explained for him.
“Don’t worry. They’re Null-made.”
Ceyla turned to their host and then glanced back at the pair of drones. “They look very… similar to Omnius’s drones,” Ceyla replied.
“Yes, that’s by design. I find they inspire more fear than human bodyguards. They are more competent, too.”
Ceyla frowned as if she didn’t understand.
“Surely you know that former Etherians such as myself are targets for lowlifes here in the Null Zone? Eternal youth and beauty are just a few of the genetic advantages that Omnius’s fallen children have over Null-born citizens, and down here we are resented for those advantages.”
“That must be hard,” Ceyla said.
The drones came by and asked them what they’d like to drink, speaking in soft, soothing tones. Ceyla selected a lavender wine, while Atton selected a dark amber one. He marveled at the rare vintages, and he realized that Valari was showing off even more than usual.
Once the drones finished pouring, he risked a sip of his wine. It was dry and bitter, but somehow soft and silky smooth at the same time. His head swam with an immediate buzz. He set his glass back down, suddenly suspicious that Valari was trying to get him drunk—or drug him. Bliss could be concealed in any beverage. Who better to give him his first taste than the Null Zone’s one and only supplier?
“Tell me about yourself, Ceyla,” Valari purred. “Darin tells me that you’ve been dating for the past seven months. He also told me that you’re engaged.” She raised her own wine glass and nodded to them. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you. As for me, well, there’s not much to tell,” Ceyla said.
“Oh, I doubt that. It must take a very special lady to win such devotion from my Darin.”
Ceyla laughed lightly and her cheeks flushed. She sent Atton a dreamy look before continuing. “I’m an orphan from the war. I came to Avilon aboard the Intrepid looking for reinforcements to help Dark Space fight the Sythians.”
Atton nodded, listening to Ceyla recount the tale of how she’d come to Avilon. She didn’t know that they’d come together. She’d been a pilot in his Nova squadron. He was her first love and she was his.
“That’s quite the story,” Valari said when Ceyla finished. “But that only tells me where you came from, not who you are or what you care about.”
“Well, I care about Darin, obviously,” Ceyla said, flashing a crooked smile at him.
Valari nodded. “Obviously. But I am curious about something. Why did you become a Null?”
Atton frowned, wondering if Valari was taking this foster mother act too far. She was meant to make Ceyla feel welcome, and to substantiate the lie that he was who he said he was—not interrogate her the whole night.
“I chose to become a Null because I believe that we go to a better place when we die, and I don’t want to miss out on that because I chose to become immortal in this life.”
Valari’s smile grew. “So you believe that you have a soul.”
“Yes,” Ceyla replied.
Atton cleared his throat, not liking the controversial turn the dinner conversation was taking.
Valari caught his eye and held his gaze for a long moment. Then she shrugged and said, “Optimists do live longer, so I suppose you won’t go unrewarded for your beliefs.”
“Excuse me?”
“You have no proof of what you believe,” Valari explained.
“I don’t need it.”
“Exactly. That makes you an unreasoning optimist at best, and at worst… well, let’s leave it at that, shall we?”
“Yes, I think we’d better,” Ceyla said, shaking her head and looking out the windows.
Atton grimaced and went back to staring at the rivers of traffic flowing by below Valari’s penthouse. “Nice view,” he said, taking another sip of his wine.
“It is, isn’t it?”
The silence returned, lasting for several minutes this time. Then dinner arrived, brought in by the drones who had served them their wine. They all ate quietly, and Atton feared that Ceyla really had offended Valari.
“The food is delicious,” Ceyla said.
“Mmmm?” Valari inquired, looking up from her food with eyebrows raised, as if she hadn’t been paying any attention. “Oh, the food—no, it’s nothing special, but I’m glad you like it. Simple tastes for simple people, I suppose.”
Ceyla managed a strained laugh at her own expense, and Atton’s frown deepened.
The rest of the evening went much the same way, with plenty of awkward silences and paper thin smiles. Right after dessert, Atton excused them from the table, saying that they needed to catch u
p on their sleep.
Valari stopped him, asking to speak with him privately before they left. He looked to Ceyla, and she nodded, giving her permission.
“Interesting,” Valari said, her eyes on Ceyla. “I didn’t realize they made leashes that short. Don’t worry; we won’t be long.”
“Take all the time you need,” Ceyla replied.
Atton could feel his blood boiling, the steam hissing out his ears. He could barely think he was so furious. Valari led Atton into her office, and the door slid shut behind them.
“What the frek was that?” Atton demanded. “You’re supposed to make her feel welcomed to the family, not make fun of her beliefs and make snide comments all night long!”
“Relax,” Valari said. “I’ve done you a favor. You asked me to play a part, and I have. I played it so well, in fact, that you won’t have to ask me for the same favor again soon. Ceyla won’t be in a hurry to see me again after tonight, so you’re off the hook little fish.”
Atton scowled, but he had to admit there was a certain amount of genius to that thinking. “You could have warned me.”
Valari shrugged. “This way your outrage was genuine, so Ceyla won’t be angry with you, too.”
Atton sighed. “Well, in the interests of supporting my fiancée, I think we should probably still get going.”
“Not so fast. I did you a favor. Now you owe me one.”
Atton’s eyes narrowed swiftly. “You didn’t mention that when I asked you.”
“I didn’t have to. Reciprocity is implied by our friendship.”
“So we’re friends now?” Atton asked.
Valari’s lips curved into a sly grin. “Well, I wouldn’t like to think that we’re enemies, would you?”
“What do you want?
“That’s a good question… what do I want?”
“Well?” Atton prompted.
“I’m sure I’ll think of something. Don’t worry, I never forget a favor.”
“You mean you never forget to call a favor.”
“That, too,” Valari said. “I’ll be in touch, Atton.”
“Right.”
Later that night, Ceyla was mysteriously quiet on the subject of Valari Thardris. Atton decided to press her for information anyway, just in case things hadn’t gone as badly as Valari thought.
“Did you have a good time?” he asked, sitting up beside Ceyla in bed.
She was setting an alarm for tomorrow morning on her handheld communicator. She worked as a tender in the Null Zone’s nutrient farms, and she had to be up early.
Ceyla shrugged, but said nothing.
“You can tell me the truth. I don’t mind.”
She shot him a look. “All right, your aunt is a pompous bigot. How did you stand to live in the same house with her?”
“I moved out as soon as I could.”
“I can see why.” Ceyla looked away, shaking her head, and checking to see if she had any messages on her communicator.
“I guess now you know why I didn’t introduce you sooner.”
“Yeah, I do.” Ceyla set her communicator on her bedside table with a sigh. “Are your real parents like that?”
“I don’t know,” Atton lied. “We don’t see each other anymore.” He fluffed his pillow and lay down to sleep.
Ceyla regarded him with a pitying look. “I’m sorry. I’ll make an effort with Valari if you need me to.”
Atton raised his eyebrows. “You’d do that for me?”
“Of course, and she did raise you, so I have to be grateful to her for that at least.”
“Well, don’t make an effort on my account,” Atton said. “I can’t stand her either.”
Ceyla frowned. “That’s awful.”
“The truth often is.”
“I’m sorry,” Ceyla said, laying down beside him and curling her body against his. “I’m glad I got to meet her, though.”
“Why’s that?” Atton asked sleepily, his eyes drifting shut.
“Because now I don’t have to see her for a while. At least not until the wedding.”
Atton’s eyes flew open. The wedding. He already owed Valari one mysterious favor, and he wasn’t ready to owe her two. Turning to Ceyla, he said, “Your family won’t be there.”
“That doesn’t mean yours shouldn’t,” she replied.
“So… Valari and who else? You have a lot of other people you’d like to invite?”
Neither of them had many friends, so he already knew the answer to that.
“It’ll be a small ceremony.”
“What if we have a civil wedding? We can save money and go on a nice honeymoon instead.”
Ceyla looked uncertain, but then she nodded and smiled. “Sounds perfect. Just the two of us.”
Atton kissed her and held her close, breathing a deep sigh beside her ear. “That’s all that matters.”
They fell asleep locked in each other’s arms, and Atton dreamed he saw his wife in the bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror. He walked in on her, and came to a sudden halt when he caught a glimpse of her reflection. She looked old. Her blond hair had turned feathery and white, and her skin was papery and wrinkled with age. He walked up beside her to tell her that he didn’t care, that to him she was still just as beautiful as ever, but then he caught a glimpse of his own reflection, and Ceyla did, too. Her blue eyes widened and locked with his in the mirror.
“Why are you still so young?” she asked, sounding horrified as she reached up to touch her wrinkled cheeks with age-spotted hands. “And I’m so old…” she said, her voice trembling. She turned to him, looking hurt and betrayed. “You lied to me!”
Atton shook his head. “No,”
“You lied!” she screamed, giving him a mighty shove.
Atton woke up with a thud. His eyes fluttered open to find that he was lying on the floor next to the bed.
“Atton? Lights!” The lights came on, blinding him, and Ceyla appeared, silhouetted in the dazzling brightness. “What are you doing lying there?”
He stared stupidly up at her for a moment, his heart pounding with dread. Had she just accused him of lying?
No. She’d said lying there.
“I fell out of bed,” he explained, easing up off the floor.
“You need to be more careful,” Ceyla replied.
Atton nodded his agreement, thinking not about falling out of bed, but about the danger in all of his lies. He climbed back into bed beside his fiancée and hugged her close. He lay wide awake and wondering what to do. Maybe he could get Omnius to take away his immortality, to make him age normally so that Ceyla would never be the wiser.
No sooner had that thought formed in his mind, than it was answered. No, Atton. I won’t be a part of your lies.
Why not? he thought, staring up at the ceiling. I’m part of yours!
You’re asking for equal treatment, but we are not equals, and you would do well to remember that. I am your God, remember?
Atton scowled up at the ceiling. How can I forget?
Chapter 16
Hoff awoke to the feeling of cold hands and cold air searing his exposed skin. He blinked bleary eyes open to see a familiar face looking back at him.
“Hello, Hoff,” Galan said.
“I’m alive,” he croaked, noting that feeling had returned to his legs.
“You are an Etherian. You didn’t really think Omnius would let you die, did you?”
Hoff frowned. Memories came back to him in a disjointed parade of nonsense. He remembered lying broken on the street, his body numb in places, wracked with pain in others. He’d jumped after an Etherian woman—a Peacekeeper. What was her name?
Lena. He remembered her crumpled form lying beside him on the street. The smear of blood and splay of fiery red hair.
Hoff shivered, shaking himself out of the memory. He looked from side to side and noted the pair of drones holding him up. The overhead light glared brightly, while the rest of the room lay cloaked in a gloomy haze. Despite that, Hoff cou
ld see that the room where he stood was vast.
One look at the floor was all he needed to recognize where he was. Thousands of hexagonal tanks lay beneath the floor, each one shining up into the gloom with a blue-tinted glow. Looking down at the cell directly beneath his feet, he saw his own tank, now dark and empty. Mops of human hair floated in the tanks around him, thousands of strands of hair drifting and tangling in clear pools of blue liquid, protecting the modesty of the naked clones. Hoff glimpsed a few artificial umbilicals trailing like purple snakes from clones’ belly buttons to the nutrient pumps in the bottoms of their tanks. He was inside one of the Trees of Life—the gargantuan towers where Omnius kept human clones and their Lifelink data.
“How long have I been gone?” he asked.
“A month,” Galan replied. “We had to grow a new clone for you.”
“We?”
Galan frowned. “I apologize. Speaking in plural is a bad habit, but I’m told a lot of Celestials begin to think of themselves as a we. It’s a consequence of getting too close to Omnius.”
“Celestials?” Hoff echoed, shaking his head. “I thought you were an Etherian.” The drones standing to either side of Hoff slowly eased their grip on his arms, allowing more and more of his weight to rest on his stiff, shaky legs.
“I’m a Celestial in training. My last job as an Etherian is to help you along the ascendant path.”
Hoff tested his legs, lifting first one, then the other. He was naked, but that wasn’t unusual after being resurrected. He looked up, staring into Galan’s glowing blue eyes. “What happened?”
“You want to know why you died, or why Lena Faros did?” Galan said.
“Both.”
“The short answer is that Omnius failed to predict the exact sequence of events on the balcony.”
“That’s impossible.”
Galan shrugged. “The long answer will explain why.”
“I’m listening.”
“There are a lot of things you need to know first. Omnius wants you to become a Celestial, too, under my tutelage.”
“What about my family?”
“You will be able to stay with them.”
Armageddon Page 12
