The Seeds of Dissolution

by William C. Tracy

  “Zie is with us, as you will soon be learning,” Ori told him. “Zie knows of the Drains and is helping us with our investigation.”

  the Lobhl gestured. Hir name was a complicated movement echoing its meaning. Both Sam and Enos jumped as they responded to the Nether’s disembodied translation.

 

  Sam exchanged a long glance with Enos. Now that was interesting.

  “Um, Majus Ayama?” Sam spoke the words hesitantly, and Rilan pursed her lips, but nodded once. They were well informed for going missing for three days. “It might be better to skip over how we survived and how we got back for now,” the young man continued. “We have something more important to tell you.”

  Rilan saw the others were just as confused as her. Only Hand Dancer made a gesture of half understanding.

  “Four things,” Sam said, ticking points off on his fingers. “First, we were captured by a group of Sathssn, with maji leading non-maji. Second, we heard them call themselves the ‘Life Coalition.’ Third, they have cells that suppress the use of our song. Fourth, they know something about the Drains.”

  Rilan whistled a long low note. The others were putting the pieces in the same places she was. So Nakan was not the only rogue.

  “Were you in one of these cells?” she asked. “How did you get out?” She was watching carefully, or she would have missed the wince Sam tried to hide. He cast a worried look at Enos, but her face was blank, like when she was being particularly obstinate with a lesson.

  “We’ll tell you the whole story,” Sam said, “but can we get cleaned up first?” He gestured to his ruined pants.

  “Of course,” Rilan said. “You can use the facilities here. It’s on the left, across from Enos’ new room.”

  “I will be fetching you some new clothes,” Ori chimed in. “The walk will be giving me time to think.”

  “Be quick,” Rilan said. “It’s late, but I want to hear this tonight. Caroom, Hand Dancer—maybe you can find a food kiosk still open. I don’t remember when I last ate, what with moving.” She hid a yawn behind her hand.

  Rilan showed Sam and Enos around her new apartment. Ori, Caroom, and Hand Dancer all left, promising to be back soon. Inas volunteered to stay, hovering protectively around his sister and Sam.

  “We are not responsible for your situation, are we?” Enos asked her softly, when the others were gone.

  Rilan hesitated only a moment. “No. Of course not.”

  “Will you be able to rejoin the Council?”

  She looked down, thinking. She hadn’t even thought about getting back on the Council. Not in the near future.

  “You know,” she said, “I don’t think I’ll even try. The past few days have been freeing, in a way. It’s nice not to listen to those blowhards anymore.”

  Enos gave her a tight smile, and went to get cleaned up.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The Prison

  -Although Gloomlight was chosen as a place of punishment for inhabitants of the Nether, it was first settled by the Lobath as their town of choice. This mix of punishment and segregation has done little to improve the other species’ view of my people.

  Kruten A’Gof, Lobath representative, 203 A.A.W.

  Sam faced Enos and Inas in the small bedroom. Boxes were piled around them, the low frame of a bed hastily pushed in one corner. One lamp sputtered around its wick, making shadows dance. There wasn’t a lot of room.

  “I will clean up first, if you do not mind,” Enos said.

  Sam shook his head. “Go ahead.” He was staring at Inas, who was staring back, his dark hair unbound, wringing his hands. Sam wanted to comfort him, but Inas’ true identity held him back.

  “I’ll be quick,” Enos said. She rooted through a wardrobe, slightly off-center in one corner, and re-emerged, clutching new clothes. She looked between them. “Don’t do—I will be quick,” she repeated, and bolted from the room.

  Inas turned to him, one foot forward. One hand rose, then fell. “What happened to you?”

  We were captured. You are an Aridori. The Sathssn were going to kill Enos, because they think you’re a danger to the ten species. You’ve lied to me.

  “We got taken by some rogue maji, but we escaped them,” Sam said. He couldn’t bring up the words he wanted to. He couldn’t just accuse Inas. Inas had confirmed nothing, as Enos had. Enos might have been lying. Again.

  Inas stepped closer, took Sam’s hand, and Sam’s heart began racing. He forced himself not to pull back. Instead, he grabbed Inas’ hand back, squeezing hard. Don’t be one. Don’t be.

  “Something happened between you and my sister. Something’s changed.” Inas stepped closer, pulling Sam in. His eyes flicked down and up, marking Sam’s mouth, throat, eyes. His other hand brushed down Sam’s cheek. Inas’ lips were slightly open. “I missed you, Sam.”

  “I…missed you too.” Please don’t be true. He wanted the universe to give him this one little thing. He leaned closer to Inas, searching, their noses almost touching. His eyes closed as Inas’ lips pressed to his, and Sam tried to let the kiss burn away all his suspicions, but he couldn’t. He pulled back, turned his head.

  They stood like that, close together. Minutes passed. Sam’s head bent to breathe into Inas’ shoulder, feeling his warmth, smelling his heady, spicy scent where his neck emerged from his shirt. It was just like before he knew about Enos. Stay like this. I won’t cry.

  “She told you, didn’t she,” Inas whispered into his ear. Sam almost knew the words were coming before Inas spoke them, betrayed by puffs of breath against the side of his face.

  “Yes.” The word was too quiet to hear, but he could tell Inas understood him by the little tremor that went through him.

  “What do you think?” The words quavered and Inas stretched back, signaling an end to their closeness, without an answer to the question.

  Sam drew back to face him. He still held on to the other man’s hand, like a tether connecting him to a fantasy he wanted to believe. “I…I don’t—”

  The door opened, and Sam heard a sigh from Enos, whether in relief they hadn’t torn each other apart, or from something else, he didn’t know. Either she was very quick, or we’ve stood here longer than I thought. He turned away, swiping the wetness away from one cheek with a hand.

  “I’m going to bathe and change,” he said. Majus Cyrysi wasn’t back with his clothes yet, but he couldn’t be in this room any longer. He didn’t look at either of the twins as he slipped past them and out of the room. Away from Inas’ question.

  He was quick, filling the tub with water from a spigot that glowed blue as the water poured out—a System of the House of Grace. He tried not to think as he washed away dirt from ChinRan, Dalhni, the cell, and the alley.

  He got back to the bedroom a few minutes later, with his dirty pants on again, and his green shirt loosely draped around his shoulders. It stank. Enos’ new shirt was blue silk with a silver edge. A towel was wrapped around her hair and twisted up on top of her head. Inas was sitting on the bed, playing with one of his sleeves. His gaze moved up Sam’s chest, but Sam curled away from the scrutiny.

  “Shut the door,” Enos said. “We need to talk.” Sam did so. “Can you do something to keep us from being heard?”

  This was it. They’ll tell me to get out, to never talk to them again. Sam barely kept his hand from going to his watch, tucked in his pants pocket, though his breathing was speeding up.

  He reached for the Symphony, and the calm that came with the fractal music. There was so much life and communication here, in the middle of the Imperium. The door was like the entrance to the alley, but sound would travel through the walls too. This was not simply changing phrases in the melody of the air, but also in the paths of communication between this
room and the rest of the world. He set his notes into the music, closing phrases away from each other, tying cadenzas in the paths of the air into perpetual repetitions. Some other score rumbled beneath what he did, too low to hear. Majus Cyrysi never said anything about doors as communication, but it was easy for him to think that way.

  The room was ringed with a curtain of shimmering yellow, and Sam felt the loss of his notes, tied up in the Symphony. He couldn’t avoid looking at the twins any longer.

  “We’re safe,” he said.

  Inas erupted from the bed. “I wanted to tell you, but we could not. We have never told anyone.” He took a step forward, and Sam took a step back, hitting against the door. The sound was muffled. He saw the hope fade from Inas’ eyes. Well, I guess that’s the answer to his question.

  “Then she was right. You are like everyone else. Are you going to turn us in? Was that kiss a goodbye?” His eyes were bright, shining in the lamplight.

  “I won’t,” Sam said. He wanted to deny his retreat from the kiss, wanted more than anything to go to Inas. He couldn’t move.

  “Now you are afraid to come closer? Are you afraid I may kill you and take over your body?” Inas was pleading. “Is that what you think will happen?”

  I’ve been through this already today. He should be over it. It should be easy to go to Inas. He lifted one hand, let it drop. “You lied to me.”

  It was the wrong thing to say, and only after he said it did he realize he was angry. “You lied!” This time it was a shout, and Inas stepped away, blinking.

  “It was not solely her secret to tell,” Inas said, flinging a hand to his sister.

  “Would you prefer we were still trapped in that cell, or Enos was taken by the Sathssn?” He looked over to Enos, who had dropped to sit on her bed, silent. “She seemed to think the Sathssn knowing was worse than telling me.”

  Inas jerked, his hair falling around his shoulders as he swung around to stare at his sister. “The Sathssn know?”

  “You didn’t tell him that part?” Sam asked. Why keep anything back now?

  Enos stared back. “I did not want to worry you any further. They are an offshoot of the Servants, we think—the Life Coalition. They likely have few resources.”

  “That won’t stop them,” Inas said.

  “Stop them from what?” Sam asked. In an instant, Inas had grasped his wrist. Sam stared down, every muscle tense. Oh God, he’s going to do it. That was silly—wasn’t it?

  Inas’ fingers were vibrating, but he kept his eyes locked with Sam’s. “Despite everything between us, you still have this reaction. Imagine the fears of the Cult of Form, whose tenets tell them one must be so pure of body that any major infection requires killing the host.” Sam frowned, and Inas nodded, but his face was still hard. “They search for birth defects and kill children who have them. Anyone who has lost so much as a finger must be euthanized. They worship an ideal form. What do you think they would do to one who could change his shape?”

  “Will they come after you?” Sam looked to where Enos sat. She lifted one shoulder in an indeterminate gesture. He looked back to Inas, still gripping his wrist. “How do we stop them?” Then he had it. “We can tell the others. They’ll understand. They can help us.”

  “No!” Enos sprang off the bed.

  Inas jerked at his wrist, grip tightening. “You said you wouldn’t tell. You promised!”

  Sam tried to pull out of Inas’ grasp, but it was like iron. He glanced back down and gasped. Inas’ fingers were fused together in a collar around his wrist. He was shackled to an Aridori.

  “Get off me!” Sam pulled, fighting the grip, but Inas was reaching for his free wrist with his other hand, fingers already trembling and elongating. Changing. Sam clawed at the Symphony, listening for anything he could use.

  “Stop it, both of you.” Enos was suddenly between them. She grasped Inas’ wrist as he had Sam’s and stared her brother in the eyes. “I’ve changed recently. You have to fight it like I have been. Fight it, Inas!” A haze of white surrounded her hand and Sam could feel a tingle in his own arm. Misty green rings, like little scales, emerged in response up Inas’ arm.

  What did that mean? Can’t think. Too close. Sam’s back was to the door, both Aridori closing him in. Too close! He scrambled through the Symphony, his heart racing. He was sliding down, Inas’ grip the only thing keeping him upright.

  “Do not fight me,” Enos warned. “Stop your change.”

  Then Sam heard the phrase he needed, buried deep in the Symphony. It echoed far away from other music in the House of Communication, a deep resonant measure. The grasp of hand to wrist, though physical, was a way of communicating. Sam threw his notes into the music, blocking it, and something stopped. Yellow mist warred with both the white and green. Inas’ fingers—and they were fingers again—slackened and Sam jerked away, rubbing his arm. He slid the rest of the way down the wall, the others looming over him. Belatedly, he took his notes back, and a breath of energy flowed back into him.

  Both twins were staring at him.

  “What did you do?” Enos asked.

  “I…I think I stopped his communication with his shifting,” Sam said. He only knew that the phrase felt right.

  “I do not think it works that way.” Enos held her brother’s hands. Inas made a gasping noise, turned away, and she drew him back to give Sam room. “It’s over. We won’t do anything more.”

  Enos was giving him room to recover. If they were enemies, they wouldn’t do that, would they? Inas wouldn’t look at him.

  “It’s like how I stopped the Sathssn from attacking you in the tunnel,” Sam said. “Why did he—”

  Enos shook her head, stopping his question. She pushed Inas back, made him sit on the bed. “I changed recently, and my brother and I were too close. The reunion between the three of us was too emotional.” She combed her fingers through her brother’s hair. “I should have warned you. Clear your mind. Find the Symphony. Let your emotions go, like our parents taught us.”

  A muscle in Inas’ cheek jumped, then he closed his dark eyes. He took a long ragged breath in, held it, and let it out. His eyes opened and when they found Sam, they were filled with shame. He looks so lost. Sam almost went to them. Almost.

  “Want to tell me what that was?” he asked Enos. Words she said in the cell came back: We do not shift our shape except in emergencies. It has its price.

  Now neither of them looked at him. Enos’ mouth worked before she answered. “It is an Aridori ghost story, or at least it may have started one.” She stopped.

  “Keep going,” Sam said.

  “It separates us from the Aridori who fought the war. We keep the changes from affecting our emotions. The others did not. Changing shape raises emotions and magnifies them.”

  “I was afraid. For all of us,” Inas said. His voice was harsh.

  “This happens every time you change?” Sam pushed up from the wall. His heart was slowing, and he hadn’t even needed his watch this time.

  “It is worse when we are already stressed, or feeling strong emotions,” Inas said, his head still down. His hair was loose and fell around his head, hiding his face. “I did not want you to leave me.”

  Sam went to them this time. Enos and Inas were sitting on the bed, and Sam stood in front of them. He made his hands find theirs, squeeze them. “I couldn’t leave either of you, not any more. I care too much for you.” Enos smiled her half-smile. Inas only looked up, his eyes soft.

  Could the others understand them as I do? What if they have to change shape, like Enos did?

  “The others must be getting back,” Enos said. “We need to go talk with them—tell them the rest of what happened.”

  “Without saying anything about us,” Inas added.

  * * *

  Origon ate his mushroom stew and fried swampflower as he listened to the apprentices’ accounts. The meal was good, but it lacked the flavor and texture a few wriggling mag
gots would provide.

  So, the Servants were building an army and capturing maji? There were ways to stop maji from changing the Grand Symphony, but he would wager few others had heard of them. His research sometimes led him into odd areas. Rilan looked disgusted, perhaps thinking of their first excursion, with the revelation that the Grand Symphony could be altered mechanically. To his knowledge, neither of them had ever spilled that secret.

  While Sam and Enos glossed over parts of their escape, they shared enough to reveal who was involved with this Life Coalition.

  “Old Zsaana?” Origon said. “I was thinking the decrepit bigot was dead the last twelve cycles.”

  “No one could find him when he disappeared. Opened up the House of Healing seat on the Council,” Rilan said. “Took another cycle before they confirmed me as councilor.” She fell silent.

  The apprentices had more names of Life Coalition members, but unfortunately none of them were Nakan. Nor did Sam remember how to get back to wherever they had been imprisoned.

  Caroom harrumphed from where they were balancing a bowl of something fibrous on one large hand. “Then shall this group go with the plan these ones, hmm, discussed previously?”

  “What plan?” Sam asked.

  signed Hand Dancer.

  Origon looked at Sam and Enos with a grin. “We will be going to Gloomlight prison.” Inas, next to them, sat straight, wide eyed.

  “Where is that?” Sam asked.

  “In the center of the Nether,” Origon answered. The twilight city was placed just far enough from the Imperium to create a portal. “Councilor Feldo was attacked recently, but managed to capture his assailant.”

  “They’re being held in this prison?” His apprentice was fingering his watch.

  “That is what we are believing. We are going to interrogate an Aridori.”

  * * *

  It took a day for Origon and the others to scope out the prison, a massive stone and resin construction, dome-shaped like other Lobath dwellings. It loomed over the rest of the structures in the town save the columns, their immense radii a constant reminder. Whenever they approached the prison, Origon saw the serious-looking Lobath at the entrance, all in matching purple jumpsuits with the emblem of Gloomlight prison on the upper arm. Their head-tentacles were uniformly braided, large unblinking silvery eyes flicking right and left in the drizzling rain.