"What do you want to hear, Bray? That I hoped we'd take out the TMC clean? That I regret my choices?" Preston snorts. "The result is all that matters. It's tragic, but their deaths serve a greater goal. Martyrs, all of them. Heroes."
"You call others dying for you heroic?" Bray's hands are cold. The rest of him numb. "I'm done. You'll never order me around again."
"Finally found your backbone, did you? Well it's too late, Bray. No getting out of this now."
"Taryn got out. She slipped right through your fingers."
Preston laughs, catching Bray off guard. "You think I'd let her off easy? She's doing exactly what she's supposed to."
Bray's pulse picks up speed. "What?"
"Oh Bray. Always slower than you look. She's on her way to Hades even as we speak—a bull's-eye about to paint herself all over our enemy's back."
"I don't... understand."
"You don't need to. Now let's go."
In Bray's mind, the thread that's been spun ever since he escaped Nugh back on Bessel's Eye unfurls in a hundred strands, each pulled by someone else. His whole life—pulled apart by other people—all in a second of horrible realization. He steps toward Preston, jaw clenched.
Preston turns toward the door, misunderstanding. "We meet up with Costa's cell in ten minutes. He'll take us to the next—"
"I'm not going." Bray lays a hand on Preston's shoulder, earning a startled look. "And neither are you."
He grabs Preston's head and cracks it against the doorframe.
Preston staggers, and drops to his knees. Blood gushes down his face and trickles onto his shoulder. He touches his open skull with a shaking hand, and stares at the blood pooled on his fingers.
Bray crouches next to him. Whispers: "You know... I was afraid to defy you. Was always ashamed of owing you my freedom. Like I didn't deserve it. I wanted so much to believe that if I worked hard enough, you'd be proud of me. That you'd care about me—about all of us—deep inside that icy heart of yours. That one day, you'd see me as an equal. I'm tired of waiting, doc."
Bray grabs the old man's head with both hands, and rams it into the edge of the doorframe. Then again. And again. Until Preston's skull is just pulped bone and brain.
His body slumps to the ground and Bray studies what's left of the old man's face.
He stoops and kneels in the rubble. His fingers trail over the remains of Preston's skull, digging through the warm mush of tenderized neural tissue until he finds what he's looking for. He pulls it out slowly, squinting at it in the flickering light.
"Thanks, doc." He stands back up. "You've been a great teacher."
He pockets Preston's synet and walks out, stepping over the old man's body.
42
My consciousness melts into the Dart's systems as I become accustomed to its functions. I get us off the Rebreather docking platform and fly up toward the dome. With each second, I gain more control, my senses replaced by the Dart's sensor and navigational inputs. I still feel my own body, strapped into the Dart's chair. Hear Jade breathing next to me in the tiny cockpit. But I'm focused on what's happening outside as I rise above the burning, roaring city.
I am the Dart now. Its hull is my skin, its sensors are my eyes and ears, its powerful engines my muscles.
The CIS has turned the dome into an impervious shield. The closer I get to it, the fiercer its plasma filaments burn in my awareness. I must change our shielding to match the dome's energy field. I have to get us through.
I don't understand what needs to be done, but something inside me—something inside Amharr knows exactly what to do. My spine begins to tingle. The nerves in my arms burn. The Dart's electromagnetic shielding sizzles and bursts into light. A deep shudder runs over the Dart and my skin—like diving into ice-cold water.
And then we're out. Flying away from the smoke-filled bubble, away from the planet into the void of space.
"I can't believe it." Jade laughs in relief. "You fucking did it!"
But we have no time to celebrate. Dozens of warships fan out before us. Jade calls my name in panic. I hear him but I can't respond. I focus on the swarms of sparks making up the ships in my altered vision, coming closer, growing rapidly like blossoming explosions.
The space between us is streaked with vibrant electromagnetic waves. I see them as whips of indigo smoke. I navigate the Dart between them, looking for just the right angle and speed, the perfect combination of charge and density.
There!
The Dart speeds up, surpasses its maximum speed and jets between the warships, spinning wildly like a drill. I zigzag up and down, underneath a warship and past another, between a dozen missiles and right toward Hades.
Jade yells something. I can't speak back. I'm wrapped in threads of eerie electricity, chasing through a space that's neither void nor matter, every nerve in my body ablaze, orchestrating the Dart's incredible flight. My steering is more precise now, and the Dart flies faster and faster, its agility amplified with every wave it takes.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Jade's yell pierces my awareness.
"Find... port..."
"You want to land this thing? At this speed?"
"No time—" I gasp, "—to land."
The warships have adapted to my maneuvers, spewing laser beams around us, grazing the Dart. I feel as if my own side was torn open, and grunt in pain.
They're gaining on us. But Hades is getting closer too.
The Dart creaks, and my breath stops painfully in my chest. The un-domed military base is now a mound of sparks and lightning-tongues squirming right beneath me—dead ahead.
Jade screams.
The Dart's hull screeches as we graze a roof, and I finally yell "Brace!"
-
My head is turned sideways, facing the ground. I hang in the harness of my chair, the straps cutting into my muscles with a dull, throbbing pain. A drop of blood drips from the tip of my nose and lands in a small splash on a piece of metal. Another drop follows. And another.
Slowly, the hiss and groan of the Dart's death throes enter my awareness. I'm hanging sideways in my seat, and my seat is hanging sideways in a smoldering pile of debris.
Fuck. Where's Jade? Did we make it?
My whole body is a human-sized sore. Every movement aches, and my head pounds sharply.
I have to get out of here, fast.
I tug and twist and manage to unlock my harness. I drop out of the seat and tumble through the rubble. A jagged sliver of the Dart's hull digs into my calf. I groan and yank my leg free without thinking. Then double over from the stabbing pain, clutching helplessly at the bleeding wound. I press my hand against it, looking for something to tie my leg up with. A piece of cloth sticks out of the wreckage. I reach for it, grab and pull, and realize it's a piece of Jade's sleeve. It's covered in blood—and he's still in it.
He twitches and tries to squirm out of the wreck. I let go of my leg—the wound already closing—and help him out.
"Anything broken?"
"Don't think so." He winces. "You?"
"I'm fine."
He slowly gets on all fours, then sits on his heels. "Think I sprained half my body and smashed the rest. Fuck it hurts." He rubs his face.
We're inside the ruins of a building, between crushed walls and panels and burnt circuit boards. Maybe a maintenance room, or a server farm. Doesn't matter, the crash wrecked it all. As I look around for working connection, forcing my vision to flicker between mine and Amharr's scanning skills, I see that every single device is burnt or currently smoldering. I look for a way out between the rubble, but find none. We're trapped.
"What time is it?" I ask.
"What?"
"How long do we have to prevent the drop?"
Jade's nacom is shattered and his wrist is swollen. "I'm not sure." He runs his hand through his hair and winces. It comes away full of blood.
Noises get louder nearby; voices and mechanical groans, hissing hydraulics and clanking tools. The sharp pitch of an angl
e grinder sets my teeth on edge.
We start looking frantically for an escape. We crawl around a torn piece of the Dart, feeling our way through the debris. I see what might be a door beneath a pile of thruster fuselage and carbonized lattices. The renewed shriek of several grinders makes me start.
"They're getting closer," Jade says anxiously. "What do we do?"
"Hurry." I start digging into the debris.
We uncover as much of the door as we can, and I pull the handle. It doesn't budge. I kick at it, harder and harder, but the damn thing just won't open.
"Fuck," Jade says. "It's melted shut."
The Ticks are breaking through the crumbled walls, tearing through concrete and metal sheaths one by one. "They're almost through." He pants and slumps down, clutching at his bleeding head.
I scrape along the doorframe with a shard of metal. It comes loose along an edge and I manage to yank a piece of the frame away. But barely enough to stick an arm through. The cutters are getting closer. I can feel the wreckage shear and give way as they tear it apart.
A loud bang—followed by rapid, high-pitched hammering.
"They've got a freaking Razer!" Jade gasps in panic. I jab my hands into the torn doorframe and pull as hard as I can. He helps me, groaning as blood gushes out around his crushed nacom. Together, we rip a piece of door open creating a gap.
I can already smell the hot metal coming from the grinders. A loud crack—a hiss—and they're in.
The gap isn't big enough to fit through. Jade starts hyperventilating. I clench my teeth, stick a leg in through the cracked door and wriggle through, shearing my suit and skin.
Steps crunch the rubble just meters behind us. I hear hydraulics press heavy limbs, grinders slow down, weapons power up. Jade mutters something, slipping out of consciousness. I'm stuck in the cracked door, fighting to push it open just a bit more. Jade gasps for air.
A volley riddles him on the spot.
He topples forward.
Falls.
Lands in a bleeding mound beside my boot.
The universe goes quiet around me, muted by shock.
Jade.
I look into his old, familiar eyes, and mouth his name. The Razor's flashlights fall on us. An armored man grabs Jade and pulls him up, another sprays something in my face. Gloved hands yank me out and drag me away.
43
Amharr stares at the Master Onryss. He stands in the middle of the corridor, the floor creeping up his ankles. The vessel is defying him.
Onrysses rush through the corridors like crazed beasts, disturbed by the increasing violence aboard, yet they go quiet when Amharr is nearby. Emranti and Kolsamal fight everywhere, but he never seems to encounter anyone. He's tired and hungry, yet no room accepts him, nothing reacts to his needs, no one responds. Everything has slipped out of reach.
Amharr has been pacing up and down this corridor for an indefinite time, sometimes aware of himself, sometimes lost in Taryn's awareness. Now he has stopped, and the Master Onryss has stopped above him. They're locked in a dispassionate stare-down, in which only one party has something to lose.
The fighting continues, everywhere else. Weapons are firing, bodies are breaking, lives are seeping into the ever-greedy, soulless mass of the vessel. Amharr feels it gorging and growing with each death, with each creature sacrificing itself for the illusion of reign over it. Its familiar, primitive presence stares back at him through the Onryss, waiting for him to feed it as well.
Amharr smells Gra'Ylgam approaching. His gaze remains locked on the Onryss, engrossed in the dullness of its greed.
"Dominant?"
He barely hears Gra'Ylgam over the noise in the back of his mind—the noise of machines grinding through compacted sand and metal, trying to reach Taryn.
"You're out of time," Gra'Ylgam says. "You must decide now. Will you assume your new fate, or will you die here in vain with the rest of us?"
Amharr inspects his old friend's reflection on the surface of the Onryss, marveling at his altered features. Gra'Ylgam is already transformed by his new power of command. Amharr has done an abnormal thing—the right thing—something no other Emranti has done. Just like the link.
"Dominant," Gra'Ylgam insists, touching his arm.
Amharr startles. His gaze unlocks from the Onryss, and his senses seem to return. "Yes?"
"The Kolsamal have broken into the armory. They've killed thirty-eight Emranti thus far, and lost one hundred seventy of their own." Gra'Ylgam sounds almost proud. "They're increasingly well organized. It won't be long until all the Emranti are dead, and they assume control of the Undawan."
"They can never control it," Amharr says wearily. "But you can."
Gra'Ylgam grunts. "You keep forgetting I am just one. The Kolsamal no longer trust me, and the Emranti never have."
Amharr turns his attention back to the Onryss.
"A new formation of human ships approaches as well." Gra'Ylgam comes to stand directly before Amharr, demanding his whole attention. "We have entered their territory. Confrontation is imminent. Everyone is an enemy now, and combat will swallow us all. You must leave while you still can. Or you will die."
Amharr exhales deeply, and looks down at the floor licking up his calves. Gra'Ylgam growls at his indifference. Grabs his left arm and squeezes. "If you die, all hope of freedom dies with you. No one will stand between us and the Raimerians. The Kolsamal, even victorious, will never enjoy the spoils of their sacrifice. They will be slaughtered. Our entire race will be annihilated in retribution. And the Raimerians won't stop at their treason. The High Emranti will pay for your deeds as well. As will the humans."
"I can't oppose the Raimerians," Amharr says, and for the first time looks straight into Gra'Ylgam's glowing eyes.
"You must try. Someone must."
"Your stubbornness is aggravating, old friend."
Gra'Ylgam clucks his tongue. "She will die with you as well."
Amharr startles as if woken from a lazy daydream. His skin ripples and aches, energy building inside him in painful bursts. "You speak of resistance as if it were a real possibility; as if freedom is an option for us. We'll never be free." He glares at the Onryss hovering above him. "Not as long as even a single Raimerian exists."
"They are not indestructible. No being is."
"You don't comprehend their true power," Amharr says. "You don't know what I know."
"I know you," Gra'Ylgam retorts. "I see your strength, even if you don't. You are a new beginning, a chance to change the fate of billions. But you must act."
Amharr's whole body is aglow with raw energy, nanites frantically working, tendons, muscles, and nerves gradually dissolving under the strain. He shudders violently, his spine and limbs bursting in white-hot arcs.
"I know the Emranti cannot break free from the Raimerians on their own," Gra'Ylgam says. "Just as metal cannot break free from the pull of a magnet."
"And who will help me?" Amharr's voice thunders between them. "You?"
"A stronger magnet."
Amharr's consciousness widens, relinquishing hold of his body. Comprehension intoxicates his thoughts with maddening speed. His skin flickers. He can barely summon the control to whisper, "Thank you," before he bursts into a brilliant spray of subatomic particles.
He seeps through the floor, and each floor after that, slowed down by the klaar but never stopping. He unwillingly amasses some of it, taking it along as he seeps through the Undawan's hull and out into the bosom of space.
44
The Ticks pull me out of the wreckage, take me through several security doors, and into a sort of tactical operations room. They force me onto a table and turn on a large immobilizer to hold me in place. The device spreads out its field, buzzing like an angry insect above my head. They have no clue it's not working on me, or that the sedative they sprayed me with has already worn off. But I'm still weakened by shock. I let them believe I'm immobilized while I clear my head and gather my strength.
Jade's livid
face keeps coming back to me. They shot him. I hope for their fucking sake he's not dead. I hope he's somewhere nearby, clinging to life. I'll come back for him. I'll come back!
But first I have to escape. Prevent the dome drop, at any cost.
A tall man in a Commander's uniform approaches, and inspects me with narrowed, violet eyes. "Welcome to Hades, Miss Nevala." He stoops over me. "Thanks for sparing me the effort of bringing you in."
Nevala? The biochip Cris gave me, my provisional tag. How odd that he lent me his own name as well. Isn't he afraid it'll be tracked back to him? Maybe he doesn't care.
The Commander inspects my face carefully. I hold still, as motionless as I can. From the corner of my eye I see three armed Ticks standing at the ready. "Lower the field above her head," the Commander orders. A Tick complies.
I blink cautiously, displaying my ability to move my face, and take a deep breath.
"Good," the Commander says. "What is your purpose on Hades, Miss Nevala?" I open my mouth, but can't think of a lie quickly enough. "How did you manage to pass the patrols? In a Dart of all things. I've never seen such maneuvers before. As a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure a Dart is incapable of doing that."
"Got lucky, I guess."
He straightens up and looks at me with a devilish glint in his eyes. "Before you waste my time, let's get a few things straight. I'm well aware of your secret, Miss Nevala. I know you're carrying uncatalogued alien RNA, and that you placed a call to Governor De Luca's office, warning her about an impeding invasion."
I swallow. My mind is racing.
"Now, to get back to my initial question." He lifts his chin. "Why were you in such a hurry to get here?"
Shit. I look him in the eyes and sigh. I'm out of options. "There's a meta-virus in Erano's CIS. It'll collapse the dome's filament net at midnight—tonight—and destroy the city, killing everyone. I came here to stop it."
He frowns. "What meta-virus?"
He's curious. That's good. Just maybe he'll listen. "Someone with the registration code... FH-something-GEN2 injected this virus. It can't be stopped from within Erano. Believe me, I tried. If we don't get Hades' AIs to override the corrupted CIS somehow, the dome will fall. Millions of people! You have to help me stop it."
The Deep Link (The Ascendancy Trilogy Book 1) Page 29
