“Has to be,” Jazzy whispers. “If they set an ambush in the water, why have a crew randomly roaming around on land? They must have landed north of us.”
We watch the group slink past the repository building. There’s a long conversation in front of it before they move on. We wait and watch as they vanish into a northern forest that flanks the building. “And we’re just going inside?” Morning asks.
“There’s a code,” Jacquelyn replies. “It will take me a minute, maybe two.”
“Then we need to give her a minute, maybe two,” Morning says to the rest of us. “Shoulder to shoulder. Stay alive. Let’s use those weapons Babel gave us. If that crew turns back and looks for a fight, don’t give them a second. Fathom?”
Nyxian manipulations fill the air with vibration. It takes me a few seconds to get my boxing claws fitted right. I’m feeling sluggish from the run, but my hands are eager. I’m starting to tap into the anger Jaime’s shown all along. I wouldn’t mind punishing a few Babel marines.
The others look ready too. Silent Holly has her boxing gloves raised. Longwei has his sword, Katsu his ax. Morning’s hatchets look like they’re already covered in blood. Outfitted for war, we keep low and press on to the edge of the field. Morning pauses us again.
“Keep tight to the trees,” she says. “Emmett and Longwei, you see the trail off to the right over there? Take that, but be quiet about it. If they’re waiting to ambush us, our approach will draw them back to the repository doors and you two can come in from behind. If no one bites, just circle back and meet us at the gate. Be safe.”
She shoots me a look that’s pure fire. Be safe. Do not die. I love you. I nod as much of that back as I can and she leads the others forward. Longwei and I trickle off to the side, crossing the distance in a crouching run. He follows me to the edge of the forest, and we put our backs smack against trees.
Glancing around, we watch Morning and the others cross the opening. They reach the first gate, shields up and out, and the whole forest is silent.
“Emmett,” Longwei whispers. “Now is a good time.”
I shoot him a look. “What?”
“Babel,” he says simply. “I need to go now. I will pretend to betray you all.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I whisper. “But—the Imago’s plan—what if it all works perfectly? What if we launch up to space and you get left behind?”
He shakes his head. “Babel will have vessels that can launch into space too.”
I’m feeling that nervous dread in my stomach. I’m afraid that if I say goodbye to him now, I’ll never see him again. “Just wait, okay? That crew might be digging into the forest north of here. I’m not going to let you go wandering off to get shot. Let’s figure things out first. Get our bearings and decide then, fathom?”
Longwei hesitates. “Are you sure?”
I nod. “Let me check the path. Just wait here for a second.”
He presses his back to the nearest tree. I push myself up against it slowly, get a better grip on my gloves, and ease beneath the branches. Careful not to make a sound, I turn the corner.
And she’s there. A dark braid drapes over one shoulder. The familiar nyxian mask covers her jaw; a gunmetal suit hugs her hips. We see each other and the world pauses. She is Kaya. She looks just like Kaya. But then our eyes meet, and I know that’s a lie. She’s got the wrong eyes. They’re angrier, darker, storms. She’s someone else entirely.
The second ends and the girl lunges at me.
I lean back just enough to catch the blade across my shoulder, to hear the rip of my suit, to feel the spurt of hot blood. She twists to plant her second knife in my stomach, but I parry and absolutely crush her wrist. The pain pulls a strangled noise from her throat, and the next second comes in a lightning strike, a half-taken breath.
Pause and I die; hesitate and I lose; wait and it’s over.
I bring my left hand around and crush her. There’s something horrible about how her body drops, but I take my stance and backpedal, searching for the next target, body trembling with fear and adrenaline. Who was that? What is going on?
A boy shoots through a gap in the trees. He’s all Iowa. Blond and bleached and freckled, but he strikes like he was born with a sword in his hand. I get my off hand up, manage another parry, and a third blow jars my footing. He shoves nyxia forward like a wave and I’m knocked back by the force of it, flattened and breathless. The only thing that stops his sword from cutting me in two is Longwei.
A hand’s length of nyxia punches through the kid’s back, and I roll right as he collapses in a bloody heap. Longwei and I stare at the fallen teens—both gasping—before we remember there are more; there are others. No one appears down the path, so we ease back around the corner, hoping to call out a warning. But it’s too late.
Back in the opening, warfare surrounds the tunnel entrance. Our crews have formed a tight circle to protect Jacquelyn. I can see the dark circle of Omar’s tomb hovering beside her as she works. Morning and the others stand shoulder to shoulder, their nyxian shields looming in front of them. Seven unfamiliar faces harass the edges.
It’s clear they’ve been trained. They are Genesis, just like us. Longwei and I watch as one of them jabs a spear forward to weaken the nyxian shield between Noor and Parvin. The blow strikes true. Nyxia shudders, blinks, and the hole in the armor widens.
Noor stares out, wide-eyed and openmouthed.
Parvin’s hand slaps down on the shoulder of Noor’s hijab. She tugs hard, and Noor’s whole body dips just as an ax comes flying forward. It skims her temple, a glancing blow. She drops and the circle reforms as Jaime steps in to help them shore up the line.
Their summoned shields flicker dangerously. I can hear Morning scream in fury. I start forward, but duck back again when a familiar face appears to our right.
Marcus Defoe strides out of the forest.
“Stand down, Genesis 13.”
The angry circle backs off. Weapons are kept at the ready, but they put some distance between Morning and the rest of our team. Genesis 13. A third Genesis, a third ship. Babel’s secrets keep expanding and evolving. A girl slips out of the forest to join the others.
That makes eight.
Eight because we killed the other two. I bury that thought.
“Genesis 11 and 12,” he announces. “I am going to offer this once.”
Inside the circle, there’s so much anger that a section of the nyxian shield actually lashes out at him. Defoe throws up a forearm and deflects the blow with ease. I narrow my eyes and take note of Jacquelyn at the door, continuing to work on the entrance code. She said two minutes and it’s already been three. She has to be close to opening it, but how the hell do we get to them?
“The Adamite population has just been significantly reduced,” Defoe says. “We also found the fallout shelter. That aircraft station was quite clever. I wonder how much time and effort went into it. We needed about five minutes to burn the facility to the ground.
“You have a choice. Go through that door with Jacquelyn Requin, and you become enemy number one. You will be hunted. You will lose. But put your weapons down and join us now, and we’ll take you back. You can be a part of our work here. You can be on the winning side of history. We will only offer this once.”
One of the black links in the shield breaks. Jaime pushes through the opening, and for a heartbreaking second I think that he’s going to take Defoe’s offer, that he’s actually giving up. But then I remember the hatred that’s burned in him for weeks now.
A new fear whispers through me. He’s not thinking straight. He’s trading all of his caution and carefully followed rules for rage and fury, and he’s aiming all that he is at Defoe.
Jaime confirms his intention by hefting a sword up and closing the gap between them. His eyes are set. His hands do not shake. My heart breaks, though, because I
know without a doubt that Jaime is about to die.
“You made me kill him, you bastard!” Jaime shouts. “Do they know what you are? Do they know what you did to us?”
Without breaking his stride, Jaime swings. It’s a moment frozen in time. I see his green eyes narrow. His high cheekbones sharpen as he shouts in rage. It’s a massive, sweeping blow.
And Defoe turns it away with a flick of his wrist. Then he slides forward with such savage grace that I fall to my knees in horror. Jaime gasps as the blade slips in and out of his chest, but his hands keep reaching, so desperate to punish for so long. Somehow he gets a hold on Defoe’s collar before he falls.
He smiles up. “You’re shorter than I remember.”
And he cracks his forehead into Defoe’s nose.
All hell breaks loose. Jaime drops. Our Genesis crew comes flying out from behind the nyxian shield. Defoe is stumbling back, blood gushing from his nose, eyes darting from opponent to opponent. Longwei and I don’t even hesitate. I push back to my feet and we both go running forward. Their back line turns just in time to catch claws and swords.
Blood spills with frightening ease. The nightmare is all around us. I turn away a spear, spinning around Longwei to jab a claw at someone else. Together we press a kid who looks just like me but with a flat-top. A blow catches his wrist and he falls. There’s a quick second where he considers kicking his way out, but a slash from Longwei has him screaming surrender.
A brief step back offers a highlight of the chaos. Alex is standing protectively over Jaime, blood streaking one cheek, shouting a dare for anyone to challenge him. Azima doesn’t need to shout. She moves through their ranks with frightening ease, spear lashing out, finding a home in the weakest places of their defenses.
Holly lands a perfect hook before ducking the swing of someone’s ax. Jacquelyn comes flying out of nowhere and lands a brutal blow with a nyxian weapon I’ve never seen before.
Longwei and I start to turn our fury elsewhere, but then I catch a glimpse of Morning.
She’s slipped through the lines. Her hatchets are seeking a home in Defoe. The sight of them freezes me on the edge of the battle. Longwei backs away, ready to fend off attackers, but my entire body locks up as Morning’s movement becomes music.
Defoe blocks a sideswipe, and another, but she ducks inside and lures him in with the most beautiful feint I’ve ever seen. His footing stumbles. She forces him to block downward or get gutted, and the movement leaves his bad hand hanging, completely exposed.
Morning shows no mercy.
Her next blow takes his hand at the wrist, clean through.
He screams, dropping to a knee. She presses to finish, but his nyxian armor lashes out like lightning. She barely shields herself in time. The dark tendrils snake through the air, hitting a few of his own soldiers. We watch them drop as a violent current trembles to life.
Everything around Defoe gets forced back by a blast of power. Defoe’s nyxia blooms out, and I barely spy him sprinting through a back door in his swirling creation.
Several Genesis 13 fighters have to dive out of his way. He’s twenty meters clear before he turns, manipulating nyxia, his eyes bright and dangerous. We see him drop something on the ground as he continues sprinting the other way.
Morning’s pursuit almost gets her blown in two. She dives left as an explosion rips through the air. The concussive blast takes us all off our feet.
By the time the smoke starts to clear, Defoe’s a dark and distant shadow. Longwei squeezes my elbow before pursuing. I can hear the others calling after him, shouting, but he doesn’t look back. A few surviving Genesis 13 soldiers surrender in seconds.
I ignore them as I run to help Morning to her feet. She’s on her back, eyes a little wide. Blood is slipping down the side of one ear. “Are you okay?” I shout. “Morning, are you okay?”
She gives me a dazed look, takes a ragged breath, and flashes a thumbs-up.
“Jaime,” she says, too loud. “Help Jaime.”
Nodding, I stumble back to my feet and cross the bloody field. The survivors are almost all on our side. Three of the Genesis 13 crew have surrendered. Holly’s carefully tying hands behind backs and checking pockets for extra nyxia. She’s got a gash across one cheek. Noor’s sitting up, and Parvin’s there, holding a bandage to her head.
Jaime’s on his back, staring up at the blue. He looks more pale than ever. I kneel at his side, feeling for a pulse. It’s barely there. He’s lost a lot of blood. His eyes find mine.
“Emmett—” A bloody cough cuts him off. “I feel so much better now.”
He smiles at that, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. There’s a final gasp and then his mouth goes slack. My face falls and there’s nothing to do but cry.
We bury the dead in beauty.
The garden we walk through shouldn’t exist, it shouldn’t be allowed. How can something be so beautiful after all that’s happened? Shouldn’t the darkness twist and kill things that look like this? We walk past slick trunks and over dark soil. Above us, the branches form a strangling canopy. Clouds and hills reduce the sun to a few slashes of faded gold.
In that impossible place, in that endless, inhuman beauty, we bury the ones we loved.
Parvin manipulates a little spoon and sets it on Omar’s grave. I have no idea what it’s supposed to mean, but her hand trembles as she pulls away, eyes lost to tears. Holly and Noor wrap their arms around her. Morning says her own goodbye, leaning quietly over the grave of her friend and brother-in-arms.
I walk forward next. There’s only one song Jaime ever asked me to play for him. It’s one of those songs I forgot was even on my player. The kind of song a white boy like Jaime would love. It wasn’t until I listened to the lyrics that I understood.
The song’s all about the family he never had. Not until he found us.
I put the song on repeat and set it next to his grave. I use the cord Vandemeer gave me to plug into the nyxia. I step back and imagine the song playing forever, just for him. Morning stands beside me, a tear running down one cheek, her jaw clenched tight.
A glance down our ranks shows gaps in the line. Omar usually stood there; Jaime usually stood here. Longwei’s gone too. I fight back the tears and take Morning’s hand in mine. She looks up at me—fierce and heartbroken—before gripping tightly back.
I clear my throat. “Shoulder to shoulder.”
It takes a few seconds for the rest of them to figure it out, but the others close the remaining gaps. Azima wraps a lanky arm around Jazzy’s shoulder. Katsu presses in next to Alex, and we make the saddest half-moon I’ve ever seen. We stand there—a dysfunctional family at a funeral—and everyone joins hands up and down the lines. Morning lifts mine and kisses the back of it, a wordless thank-you, as the entire group circles the fresh graves.
“Shoulder to shoulder,” she calls.
Our whole group echoes the words.
I give Morning’s hand another squeeze as we move apart. We move on to other sections of the garden and start helping to bury the fallen Imago victims. The surviving military boats didn’t leave their dead behind. It takes hours, but we work hard, knowing all of them put their lives on the line to see us safely to shore.
Grave after grave, we turn a place of beauty into a lost paradise.
We bury our enemies too. The Imago don’t help us dig the graves of the fallen members of Genesis 13. We killed them. The task belongs to us. And even though the Imago have the survivors in chains, they’re merciful enough to let them stand over each grave and say a quiet word for the departed. I watch until I can’t stand the sight any longer.
I’m so tired of counting ghosts.
Jacquelyn returns as the camp starts preparing to march. After the showdown with Defoe, she took scouts through the tunnels to try to confirm his claims about the launch station. We all listen with dread as she de
livers her report to the Imago leadership council. It takes a few minutes for her to move on to us, gathering the whole Genesis crew around.
“Defoe was telling the truth,” she says. “The launch station was destroyed.”
The truth hits our group hard. We all know the station was our way off-planet.
“Was it Longwei?” Jacquelyn asks. “Did he clue them in to where we were heading? I saw him run off after Defoe when the fight finished.”
I take a quick step forward. “It wasn’t him. Longwei and I talked in Sevenset. He was kind of an asshole in space. Always took things too seriously. Never hung out with any of us. He’s been coming around lately, though. He suggested going to Babel and working from the inside out. Figured they would expect him to take their side.”
Jacquelyn frowns. “And you really believe that?”
I nod. “He made the decision before he knew any of this would happen. He was willing to risk his chance to escape to make sure we got into space. I believe him.”
“Right,” Jacquelyn says. “Well, someone or something gave us away to Babel. We’re monitoring all communications from here on out. If we catch even a whisper of an unauthorized signal, there will be consequences. Understood?”
Our entire group nods.
“You’re smart enough to understand that this changes everything.” Jacquelyn eyes the group, like she’s trying to figure out how much fight we have left. “Our launch station is gone. We will divert the survivors toward other stations. We have to figure out how extensive the damage is first. How many stations has Babel destroyed? Have the other rings successfully reached their launch centers? Babel hit us where it counted. We’re a long way from home now.”
“So what happens now?” Parvin asks.
“We still don’t know what Babel knows,” Jacquelyn says. “We have no idea if they figured out what the launch station was or why it was built. Our plan is to move on to a secondary base, assess readouts of the other launch stations, and form a plan from there. Half of the Remnant survived. They are our priority. You are our priority. I speak for the rest of our group when I say that we will do everything in our power—we will bleed and sweat and fight—to get you home. Are you with us?”
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