The Eurynome Code: The Complete Series: A Space Opera Box Set

by K. Gorman

  Gods. Dr. Sasha. Her lip twisted. How long had they spent with her in the compound? How many years had Sasha lived there, lying to them, feeding drugs into their systems, experimenting on their minds? And what about Takahashi? That she recognized his face seemed conspicuous. Had he, too, been a core part of the team, or simply some sort of contract surgeon, operating on their brains the way some people worked on ships? Nomiki certainly remembered him. But, by the reaction she’d had back in Seirlin, she’d remembered nothing good. Back then, it looked like she’d been half ready to kill him.

  Just what had he done?

  A particularly heavy shudder jerked her forward, making the Nemina dip before it corrected. She made an effort to relax her shoulders and breathe.

  It would all come out in time. She’d waited seven years. She could wait a little bit more. Especially now that they had a military to support them.

  They did not go to Korikishiko’s small base. Instead, Reeve redirected them back through the moon’s thin atmosphere and on a trajectory toward Chamak’s southern hemisphere. Two Fallon fighter craft, Arjuna Vipers, by the looks of their angular noses and split-wing design, fell into formation at the Nemina’s flanks after they broke atmo, accompanied by a comms request from the leftward pilot, which Nomiki handled on the co-pilot’s terminal.

  Soo-jin operated the other station, strapped to her usual spot on the far side of the bridge. Cookie sat somewhere in the mid-section of the ship, the occasional beep and swear coming forward as he did something with his netlink. Ahead, the front windscreen’s auto-tone gave Chamak’s cloud layers a purple-ish tint as they hurtled through them, the ship shuddering from the crosswinds.

  She kept the controls steady, following Reeve’s flight path on the holoscreen. After a few minutes, the clouds parted, and her first sight of Chamak’s massive rainforests made the wait much easier to bear.

  With the exception of Kokopelli, whose scorched orbit swung too close to the suns for habitation, most planets were, on an objective scale, pretty. They’d been terraformed for and by humans, and humans liked nice, nostalgic places to live, which led to some glorious sites. Even Amosi, with its rustic grasslands and homesteading appeal, had a kind of romantic charm to it. Like Earth, each planet harbored a diverse swath of geographic habitats, but each also varied depending on their atmosphere, position from the suns, terraforming schedule, and, mostly, any boosts they gained to compensate for lacks or imbalance in the other three. Korikishiko provided a good example with its atmospheric temperature rebalancers, which regulated the sun-facing side to an even thirty degrees and dispersed the rest of the heat to keep the night side between eight and fifteen. Enlil and Belenus also had boosts, due largely to their position outside of the system’s natural habitable zone.

  Chamak sat right on the edge. It utilized a number of terraforming balances, but none quite so obvious. The first of Fallon’s planets to be developed, it boasted a thick range of forests and jungles over most of its twelve continents, with only a few rain-slicked grasslands in the south. Similar to its Old Earth equivalent, the city they were bound for, Nova Kolkata, sat upriver from a delta basin that fed into a subtropical sea. A marvel of neo-modern urban planning, the tiered city dropped into view in the front viewscreens with a smattering of stunning skyscrapers that gleamed and glittered in the rain like ephemeral spires, each interconnected at its base in a coordinated maze of trafficways and shuttlepaths. A rapid transport system, similar to Enlil’s Skytrain but much more efficient, snaked in, out, and around the city in clean white lines. The streets below ran on a curved grid, looping in wider arcs as they drew away from the city center and farther into what Karin guessed to be residential suburbs.

  “We just got scanned,” Soo-jin said from her terminal. “They were nice enough to notify us.”

  “I see that.” She dismissed the notification with a tap of her controls. “Nomiki—”

  “It’s normal, ignore it. I’ve got a comm connection. Keep going.”

  She took a moment to squint at her sister. By the looks of her screen, she had more than just a simple comm connection going. “Are you writing a report?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Isn’t it a bit late for that?”

  “Not if I finish it before we land.” Nomiki’s fingers paused, her index resting on the ‘s’ key, then flexed. “You know me. I’ve never been one for paperwork.”

  “Yes, I do know you. You’ve never been one for useless paperwork,” Karin informed her. “Like school assignments, or change of address forms, or sending your sister a message when you’re investigating the nefarious organization that created you, or—”

  “Hey, I thought you wanted to hide away and forget this mess. You’re the one who—” She paused, the sentence ending in a quick silence. In her peripheral vision, Karin saw Nomiki look over at her. “You’re just fucking with me, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  Nomiki laughed. “Screw you.”

  “I think that’s illegal within Fallon, considering we’re sisters.”

  “Actually,” Soo-jin piped up from across the room. “Since neither of you have a penis, it might not be. So long as you aren’t procreating with your DNA, the authorities don’t give a damn.”

  A small silence put a pause on the conversation as Karin and Nomiki both turned their gazes to Soo-jin. Despite the restraints and the turbulence, the woman had managed to shuffle her body around enough to fold one leg up onto the seat of her chair, her bare toes curling over the edge. One arm looped around it, bracing against the armrest in a casual fashion as the rest of the chair had swiveled to put her upper body closer to the terminal. The paint on her finger and toe nails matched like colors on a checkerboard, a symptom of recent long-haul-flight boredom.

  “Why do you know so much about Fallon incest laws?” Karin asked.

  “I spend a lot of time on the nets. It comes up.”

  She processed that. Then she processed something Marc had said before, about Fallon’s leniency toward genetic modification. Specifically, as it related to children.

  “You know what? I don’t want to know.” She sat back, fixing her gaze back on the Nemina’s navigation screen and the city before her. “Nope,” she said. “Nope, nope, nope.”

  “I mean, I guess if it’s between consenting adults…” Nomiki began. “But…”

  “I’ve actually been thinking about it. I mean, if the two are consenting and either don’t procreate or use a genetic modifier to negate the inbreeding…”

  “Nope.”

  “Karin and I were born from fake wombs. It doesn’t get any weirder than that.”

  “Right? Or, like, adoption. Tons of unwanted children around.”

  “I swear to the ten hells, if you don’t stop talking about this, I am going to crash this ship straight into a tree,” she grumbled. “You both are just fucking with me now.”

  “Tit for tat, little sister.” Nomiki giggled. “Don’t crash us. We still need to find out what Takahashi knows.”

  She tilted her head, glancing sidelong at her sister. Nomiki had returned her gaze to the report in front of her. A mobile key stuck out from a port near the bottom of the dashboard, along with a wire jack that connected to her personal netlink. The quiet whisper-click of keys filled the silence.

  “You remember him, don’t you?” she asked. “Can you tell me about him?

  “What’s there to tell? He fucked with our brains, just like the rest of them.”

  “Was he at least nice about it?”

  Nomiki made a hissing sound between her teeth. “Who cares?”

  “Well, if he wasn’t the ringleader and was just following orders, then—”

  “They were killing us. I don’t care if they were nice about it.”

  “Yeah, okay, but what do you remember about him? Because I’ve got nothing to go on, and I can’t remember anything about him in your notebook, either.”

  “He’s a brain surgeon. We had appointments with him. Regular
appointments, toward the last few years.” Nomiki’s nose crinkled with distaste, and she made a tsking sound with her teeth. “He’s probably the reason we can’t remember as much. Probably cut the memories right out of our heads.”

  Karin thought for a moment, mulling on that. Something just wasn’t sitting right with her. There’d been five main people on the Eurynome Project team, and they’d only found two of them. From a medical standpoint, it would make sense to keep a single brain surgeon on site to handle all operations. Everything she remembered about their treatments diverted from the gamut of common medical treatments she’d read through in the first few years after their escape. It made sense they would need a doctor who had more than a passing familiarity with what they were doing—and one who either shared their vision or could keep his mouth shut.

  “If he cut the memories out of our heads, how come I keep remembering more and more?”

  Nomiki stayed quiet for a few minutes. Her eyes stared hard at the screen, but her fingers didn’t move. Muscles worked in her jaw. Outside, the city had vanished beneath the Nemina’s front windows, replaced by a dark, thick canopy of trees. The holoscreen overlay picked up the military installation over the next hill, a spread-out nest of curved buildings and cleared landing pads and strips whose colors almost blended in with the forest. Reeve’s scout dipped down, skirting a low-hanging wisp of cloud as it readied to land.

  “You probably suppressed yours. You wanted to forget about it, didn’t you? Start a new life?”

  She had, though for more than what Nomiki was telling. She’d wanted the nightmares to go away. To live for something other than basic revenge. The Earth facility had carried a harried, stripped feel to it during their last year. Near the end, fewer and fewer kids had arrived for testing. Only five the night they had escaped, and ten guards. The year before, it had been ten and thirty, and before that, more.

  Whatever the Eurynome Project had been researching, its time had been coming to a natural end. To her, it didn’t seem important to carry on a revenge mission. Not if they wanted to get away.

  From across the room, she could feel Soo-jin staring at her. Apart from the shifts and shudders of the Nemina, and the occasional beep and mutter from Cookie somewhere in the compartments behind them, silence filled the bridge.

  “You say it like it’s a bad thing. It’s not.”

  Nomiki huffed. “For you, maybe. I can’t live that way.”

  Well, we were created differently. Eos was never meant to mirror Enyo.

  She didn’t voice the thought, only stared at her flight screen, waiting to see if Nomiki would say any more.

  After a few seconds passed, her sister shifted, making the co-pilot’s chair creak. The sound of clicking keys came once again.

  Without a word, she dipped their course forward and followed Reeve down to the base.

  Chapter Eleven

  With a sister like Nomiki, she should have expected someone like General Brindon.

  A woman in her mid to late fifties, the general carried a broad, stocky frame, a healthy dose of silver in her otherwise black hair, and features that, at first glance, looked half Chinese. She glanced over from a holoscreen on the right-hand wall—Karin spotted bases for eight in total, though only two were active—and gave them a quick, sharp assessment before turning back.

  “I’ll be with you in a moment. Please, sit.”

  A receiving area took up the front-left corner of the room, two arm chairs and a couch, all leather, sitting around a wood-and-glass coffee table. A large, elegant painting of a tiger in a forest scene took up the wall behind the couch, its colors muted and elegant in a traditional mural style. The other wall housed framed, antique astral maps of Chamak and its two moons. A potted plant sat in the corner. Some kind of tree with long, spiky leaves that reminded her of a palm.

  They sat while the general worked, and Karin relaxed as the soft cushions of the couch pulled her in deeper, though she had to work to keep from sliding into Soo-jin, who’d sat a little closer than normal beside her. Nomiki, Reeve, and Marc remained standing. After a few seconds, Cookie, on Soo-jin’s other side, pulled out his netlink and began to work on it again.

  She narrowed her gaze on it. Was that the Seirlin logo she’d just seen on its screen? And was he using Chamak’s network? The Nemina had been granted access before they’d landed, but she didn’t think that had extended to netlinks.

  Maybe he had a trick.

  “Makos, Reeve.” The general turned her head as she spoke, not quite looking. “I understand there was some excitement at the lab you visited?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Reeve cleared his throat. “I specified the details in my report.”

  “I have it here and will review it. For now, I need quick answers. Makos, why did you choose to go to Korikishiko? The route we provided specified Chamak.”

  “Seirlin Genomics is a branch of the corporation that is responsible for my and my sister’s unique abilities. I thought it prudent to pay them a visit before they knew we were in the area. They may have files related to our programs.”

  “And instead, you found your doctors.” A small huff of air escaped from the general. “What blind luck.”

  “Yes. It was lucky.”

  “Did you find where Dr. Sasha went?” Karin asked.

  The general did glance back this time, eyebrows lifted a bit higher than Karin suspected they normally sat. She’d never studied the specifics of Fallon military protocol, but she guessed she’d been meant to stay quiet while the general finished with Nomiki and Reeve.

  “No. Not yet. They will.” The corners of her lips pulled tight. “You must be the sister. Karin, is it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your face is all over Alliance feeds.”

  Ah. So the Alliance feeds were getting out—or, at least, the general had access to them. She’d put her money on the former, considering how big and convoluted the system was. Even with half the population turned Lost, most major companies had one or two satellites on their operating planets, and there were more than enough people like Cookie to make sure things got around. Especially if Nova Earth got involved, and they definitely had at this point.

  “I guess we’ll need to dispense with the last name basis for you two, since you’ll likely be working together,” the general continued. “Word is that you can heal the Hosts?”

  Hosts. That’s what they called the Lost here, as she recalled. She nodded.

  “How many have you done?”

  “Over a thousand. I lost count on Caishen.”

  That made the general’s eyebrows rise. “Impressive. I also hear you’re willing to work for us?”

  “Yes. It seems the least I can do.”

  “Why not work with Alliance? You were within their territory when the attack happened, weren’t you?”

  “I was willing to, but they didn’t really… ask.”

  As she thought about it, she realized that it was true. Not a single Alliance person had actually asked her to stay with them. From Lorraine back on Enlil, to Hopper on Caishen and whoever had been running the Enmerkar, they’d all tried to keep her by force. Fallon, on the other hand… Well, maybe Nomiki had played a part in it, making her at least a little bit known to them, but they’d definitely played their cards better. A hard thing to do, given how desperate everyone was.

  Maybe they didn’t believe she could do it. Apart from her last stint on the Alliance, proof of her abilities hadn’t existed—only gossip and rumor. And a flashy Alliance wanted poster.

  “I also had to find Nomiki. And we didn’t find out I could heal them until we hit Enlil.” She made a gesture toward Soo-jin beside her. “She was my first.”

  The general’s gaze slid to her side, giving Soo-jin a once-over. Then she grunted. “Well, I’ve got a standard work contract drawn up. Weekly, so we can tweak things as we go, but I’ll need a demonstration before we commit.” A stiff smile formed on her lips. “I have to admit, this all sounds very fantastic to me,
but, given what we’re fighting…”

  “Oh, trust me. I know.”

  “Do you know how it works?” The general stepped forward, dropping her stance, her eyes curious as she glanced to Nomiki. “Your sister has told me a little about your history, but…”

  “We don’t know much. The project staff kept us in the dark about what, exactly, they were doing to us. That’s why we went to Seirlin just now.” She let a polite smile tip across her lips. “The fight with Sasha put our search for files on the backburner. Perhaps, if you have people on the ground there, they could inquire again?”

  General Brindon snorted. “Oh, don’t you worry. We have that well in hand.”

  Soo-jin leaned forward. “Karin gets sick sometimes. When she overuses her ability. Took her a few cycles’ sleep and several drip bags before she came back the last time.”

  “That was on Caishen?”

  Must have been in a report. She’d seen Nomiki typing away more than once during their journey. Reeve would have been doing the same, doubtlessly.

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s keep a close eye on your health, then. If you feel at all unwell, let someone on staff know. We can rearrange hours.”

  “Sunlight will probably help.” Nomiki glanced her way. “She draws power from light sources. Or, at least, she used to.”

  “I still do. Lightbulbs, lately.” They’d used it during their escape of the compound. By the time the Shadows had attacked, she’d almost forgotten about that trick. Hadn’t really needed it again until Caishen.

  “Sunlight?”

  She caught the general staring at her.

  “Yes, I realize it’s pretty odd.” She shrugged. “I don’t know how it works.”

  “It makes a certain sense, I suppose. Light is energy, after all…”

  Yes, but I’m not a plant.

  “We’ll keep an eye on you regardless,” the general continued, her hand giving a small, dismissive wave, before checking the screen of her netlink. “I’ve got a meeting to get to, but Corporal Cianno will oversee your demonstration and contract signing. Do you mind starting today?”