by K. Gorman
“No, no. You weren’t like this when I first saw you after the tank. You―you said that a part of you could still feel, you said it. You had regret, even if it was only a little.”
“That part is small and insignificant,” she told him. “I have killed lots of people today, and for some of them, I enjoyed it. Right now, the smell of blood both sickens and excites me. It’s fucked up, but that’s how it is. That’s the me that I am now.”
Her words sounded hollow, disconnected. As if she were pulling a pre-prepared speech out of the emptiness of her chest cavity. Something her mind had rehearsed to give him, should he interfere.
A small part of her crumpled when she realized that.
His hand came up, but he stopped himself, retracting with a hesitancy.
Most likely, he’d thought better of it.
Good. Maybe he was finally realizing just how fucked up she was.
Then, his body shifted. She read the intention in his muscles a second before he stepped forward and put his hand on her shoulder.
“Kar, I love you. I want you to know that. I love you, and I am not going away. One day, all of this death is going to hit you, and you are not going to be okay. But I’ll be there, and we’ll get through this.”
He squeezed, his hand warm on her shoulder. Unexpectedly so. And big. She caught his scent, the familiar soap they used on the ship. A memory twinged. Him on a hot day, working on the ship next to a beach on Enlil when they were hiding out, the sun casting down on his sweat-slicked arms. Back when she’d first started feeling something for him.
“Have a shower. Get the blood out of your hair. Try not to die.” He gave her a pat and left, his long, lanky strides careful and strong.
She huffed. “I’m not going to die in the shower.”
“It’s happened. Don’t be a statistic.”
A smile twitched her lips. Inside, she felt the flutter of…something.
It wasn’t what she’d felt before; she knew that much. More like a shadow, or a shape in the mist. A mixed pressure in her chest, one part light and warm, the other crumpling like a hole.
She let out a long, slow breath as the emotion slid through her lungs.
Then, when it passed, she stood and set out to find this suite’s sani.
He was right. A shower would make her feel better.
Centauri showers were…interesting. She wasn’t sure what type of liquid had come down on her, but she was sure that a part of it was water. And more of the water part mixed in when she tried poking at one of the buttons on the wall.
Yeah…she may have to learn a few words in Centauri before this mission was over. At least agua had enough of a familial root with her native English to give her a decent idea as to what the button did.
She emerged from the shower, plucked a towel off the rack, gave it a quick sniff to make sure it was new-ish―psychopath that she was, she still didn’t feel like drying herself off with the same towel that had also dried off Leisler’s junk―and came back out into the suite wearing one of the changes of clothes Nomiki and Soo-jin had brought from the Nemina.
A new, Centauri combat suit lay stretched out on the main table, surrounded by the crew from the Nemina and a half dozen plates filled with food.
“We found the fridge.” Soo-jin shot her a smile. “Figured you wouldn’t mind. Say―I’ve never seen your hair wet before. Does it always go that color?”
Karin gave a look at the tail of damp locks that trailed down from her shoulder. In the light, the blond had gone from its normal dark tan color to more of a green shade. “I think there’s something in the water.”
“I’ll say. Remind me not to wash my hair here. Grape?” Soo-jin offered up her plate.
“Thanks.” She popped it into her mouth and frowned down at the suit. “New delivery?”
“Yes. Tillerman had it made, apparently.”
She lifted her eyebrows. “I didn’t realize she had my measurements.”
“Maybe that’s the real reason she’s been staring at you,” Soo-jin suggested. “She was really just memorizing the curve of your ass so you could fit into this custom beauty.”
Down the table, Cookie snorted. “Nah, man. This is Centauri. Have you seen the tech they have? They likely scanned us in such detail, they could make each of us a suit.”
“I’m down,” Soo-jin said. “This is a fine piece of technology.”
On that, Karin had to agree. Like many of the cyborgs she’d seen, the suit had a light metallic look―like mercury, or quicksilver. What appeared to be fine metal plates shifted perceptibly at her touch, indicating a decent level of nanotechnology present in the structure. Higher-hit areas, such as defensive areas on the arms, shoulders, hips, and legs, were visibly more armored, with a thicker appearance even on the table, whereas more high-flex areas appeared to have a type of scaling in their fabric. Panels and strips stood out on the table, clearly meant for more high-function areas like her shins and forearms. The boots on the floor below had a viscous-looking strip of folded metal that ran from the tip of her toe to just past the knee.
If she kicked on that point, it would drive the entire force of her kick into that small wedge, and she had the choice of striking with her knee, shin, and the ridge of her foot.
“Tillerman dropped this off?” She stole another grape, this time from her sister’s plate. Nomiki glanced over, then swayed to bump shoulders. Her way of showing affection. “Did she say anything?”
“Said to call her when you came out of the shower,” Nomiki said. “You should eat first.”
“Yes, Mom.” She grabbed a fistful of grapes and moved off, munching on them as she slinked her way to the fridge. “Anything good in here?”
“No cake,” Soo-jin said.
“Nor ice cream,” Shinji added.
“There’s a package of mystery meat labeled ‘pollio,’” Nomiki said. “It’s either a nasty disease or chicken.”
Karin examined the refrigerator’s dark metallic front surface for a few seconds before experimentally tapping a spot on the side.
The door faded from view like a morning fog.
“Holy shit,” she said.
“Yeah, it’s impressive,” Soo-jin said. “Judge me however you want, but I’ve started a list of home decor that I want in my future fantasy apartment.”
“I thought you wanted your own ship?”
“Yeah, but everyone’s gotta have a base somewhere, right?”
Karin snorted. “I dunno, I’m currently finding ship living pretty damn fine.”
“Yeah, well, not all of us can become a Centauri Grand Regent overnight.”
She decided to skip the potential chicken. It had been a week since Leisler had died, and she wasn’t sure if they’d cleaned the fridge yet. Instead, she opted for an orange and a sealed packet that had a picture of a rice ball on it.
She tapped the button again to melt the door of the fridge back into place, found a plate in the second cupboard, cracked open the package to reveal a surprisingly-intact onigiri triangle, and hunted for the communications device in her pocket.
She pressed the button on the end, and Tillerman answered. “Yes?”
“It’s me,” she said. “You needed to speak with me?”
“Yes. You’ve had several calls. Fallon is getting touchy.”
“Ah, well. If they call back, tell them that their rep is next in line for my attention. Is Tylanus still in Med?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I’ll be down to see him. And Tillerman?”
“Yes, Regent?”
“Let’s find a room to have that chat, and let’s do it soon.”
“Yes, Regent.”
She ended the call, put the device down, stared at her plate, and let out a breath.
Then, she began to stuff the onigiri triangle into her mouth as quickly as she could, washing it down with a water packet she grabbed on the counter.
“No rest for the wicked?” Soo-jin quirked a brow.
Sh
e made an unladylike noise around her full mouth, stuffed the last bite in, and walked back toward the door. Her normal slip-on shoes sat near the door.
“You guys want to stay here or come with?” she asked. “I’m going to talk with Tylanus.”
“Come with, obviously.” Soo-jin bustled over. “It’s not every fucking day that I get to check out the insides of a Centauri ship. By the way, are we still friends?”
“What?”
“Just checking in on how psychotic you are today.”
“Oh, very psychotic.” Karin frowned. “But we’re still friends.”
“Fabulous. Because I’ll definitely be using the ‘my best friend is your Grand Regent’ card to get them to tell me all their nerdy engineering secrets.”
She grunted. “We’re headed to the Med bay. I’m not sure how many engineers we’ll be finding.”
“Perhaps Shinji and I will be playing that card, so to speak, given our interests and expertise,” Takahashi suggested.
“I brought my Trojan F-Class E-Emitter. Technically, I can do work here.”
Ah, yes, the electroshocking metal ball he’d used to stalk her with. She had been wondering what excuse he’d come up with to find himself on the Artemide. She’d guessed that it was mostly as a tag-along to learn more about the Centauri’s advancement in cybernetics―which she approved of, given that he could then apply the knowledge to Tia’s cybernetically-spliced brain should he need to―but she supposed that an additional weapon didn’t hurt.
It did have superhuman tracking abilities. She still wasn’t sure how it had managed to follow her as much as it had. He’d said something about scent and biometrics, but she couldn’t wrap her head around it.
Plus, if it had been scent, then it definitely would have followed her a bit more…directly. Instead, it had taken a circuitous route, somehow managing to know where she was or where she was heading, only following directly once it had caught a direct line of sight on her.
At the side, Bella raised her hand. “I know I’m just a tag along, but I would really appreciate it.”
She beamed a hopeful smile in Karin’s direction.
“Sure. All right,” she said, slipping her shoes on and brushing the remains of rice off her mouth. “Let’s see how swanky the Centauri make their Med bay.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Karin gawked. She couldn’t help herself. The second she stepped into the Med ward, her jaw slid open, and she couldn’t stop staring.
The Centauri Med ward was, it turned out, pretty fucking swanky.
It looked like one of those utopic visions of medicine. Twenty pre-built medical terminals, complete with monitoring holos, a bed, medical supplies, and what looked like a potential privacy screen, lined the left-hand wall, each looking like they belonged in the fifth millennium rather than the third, and the walls, cabinetry, desks, and holos all had the same gleaming, glowing white look she’d seen in commercials for aestheticians, all colored in the white and gold that matched the Artemide’s halls and bridge.
The Menassi emblem with the eagle was stamped onto the far wall, this time accompanied with an oath below that she couldn’t read.
There’s that language barrier again, she thought.
Well, they’re definitely speaking something with Italian roots, Tia replied. I can tell that much.
Yes, she’d already recognized it as a patois. She resisted the urge to point out that she had technically spent more of her life closer to Italy than Tia had. As far as she knew, the doctor’s travels were largely confined to the Americas with only a few spots of travel in Europe.
But, inside, she felt Tia’s mood simmer. As if she’d caught the rebuke, even though it had been left unthought.
That worried her, a little. Tia hadn’t been able to catch thoughts like that before.
Granted, she had just blown her mind up with her power. Perhaps she wasn’t thinking as subtly as she’d thought she was.
She spotted Tylanus in the far pod, with four Centauri medical personnel in attendance.
His head swiveled her way as she approached, his black eyes locking on hers immediately.
She felt it hit. As their eyes locked, it was as though a magnet slid into place in the back of her mind.
And by the scrutiny of his expression, he felt it, too.
Interesting. Must be a Creation deity thing.
The technician next to him said something, and he replied, his voice too low to make out. As she and the crew of the Nemina approached, the surrounding technicians gave a small bow and took a step away. Only one man remained next to Tylanus. By the glances the rest of the Med team gave him, she gathered he was the team lead.
She inclined her head.
“Good afternoon, Doctor.” Though it was now late evening in Brazil, the standard Centauri clocks marked their cycle as around 15:00, Sol Standard. “Did you have any trouble?”
She arched her eyebrows, looking pointedly at the rest of the team.
He set her a polite smile. “No trouble, Regent. Just eager volunteers.”
“They’ve never met someone from Earth before,” Tylanus explained, the amusement plain in his face and tone.
To the side, a few members of the team looked away, their faces reddening.
Right. They were interested because he was an Earther. His completely pitch-black eyes and otherworldly powers were inconsequential.
Well, guess they’ll now have a few ‘Earthers’ to look over, if we’re going to be hanging around.
She gave them a thin smile, then turned back to Tylanus. “How are you?”
A shrug rolled off his shoulders. “I’ve been worse.”
“But you’ve been better, too.”
She knew because she’d seen it. Just over a week ago, then they’d last had that strange, shared-dream thing that they did, he’d seemed better. Much better. Now, his body had a strained look to it, and his skin had lost some of its richness. He appeared older, too, with the beginnings of wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, as if they were closer to her own age rather than the twenty or so he should be.
Yes, there’s definitely an age difference from your last memory of him, Tia said.
He’s likely been spending time in one of his mother’s time-sped dimensions again.
Sasha could control the time in her pocket dimensions, so she could make it as fast or slow as she wanted.
She stepped closer, sliding her arms into a crossed position on her chest. “Let’s talk about what happened earlier. Was that Sasha?”
The muscles in his cheek rippled, and his neck tightened. “Yes. She’s enacting her plan.”
“Even though you’re not there to help her?” She slid a hand free and gestured. “I thought she needed your body?”
That phrasing earned her a few looks from the Med staff. At least, it was easy to pick out those who were decently fluent in System.
“She is Chaos. She can manipulate dimensions how she pleases, for the most part. And I have already given her access to Tartarus. She’s built her new world there, and is ready to integrate.” He nodded to her. “How about you? You’ve clearly changed. Is it what you alluded to last time?”
The last time they’d spoken, she’d told him that she’d been working on something, but she hadn’t specified what that ‘something’ was. There’d been too much of a risk that Sasha would find out about it, and she couldn’t risk the doctor planning a possible defense against Eurynome.
With that, it was best to keep the surprise.
Now, things had changed.
“I found the former head geneticist and first human trial for the Project, uploaded her into my head, and completed quaternary phase of her Program. I am Eurynome now.”
He narrowed his eyes, and his mouth opened. She felt a shift in the air, as if he were checking on something.
“No, you are something else,” he said.
“Yes, well, maybe we got a bit creative with the programming―sue us. What I really am is tired of
your mother’s shit. I need to know where she is and what she’s doing. And if you have an idea on how to stop her, I would love to hear it.”
“Would cutting her head off work?” Nomiki suggested.
Tylanus flinched. Karin skewered a glared in her sister’s direction.
“What?” Nomiki said. “It’s what we’re all thinking. Just two hours ago, you had zero qualms about killing thousands of people for being in the wrong ship at the wrong time, and you’ve been a pretty cold-hearted bitch about it.”
“I also wasn’t speaking to any of those people’s sons.”
She shook her head―whatever had Nomiki in a tiff, it was not her problem. She could deal with it, or she could leave, and if she continued to be pissy, Karin would present her with the second choice.
“Okay, so―” Soo-jin stepped forward. “Sasha’s got access to Tartarus, and she’s…taking you apart in order to build the new universe?”
“Yes,” he said.
“What?” Beside the bed, the Centauri doctor started, confusion coming across his face as he glanced back over to Tylanus. “Taking you apart?”
Karin let out a sigh.
Gods, this was so fucked up. They were genetically engineered people, not gods and goddesses. Gods and goddesses weren’t supposed to exist, not really, and certainly not in the literal, tangible way that the Eurynome Project had made them.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “This must be confusing, especially to someone who lives in a scientific world. He and I―” She gestured to herself and Tylanus, “―we’re genetically engineered to be able to manipulate quantum fields. The people who made us had an obsession for mythological figures and decided to recreate gods and goddesses from their favorite pantheons, and now one of us―his mother―is making the world end.”
“It’s not her fault,” Tylanus said. “Something broke her programming. She’s…not who she used to be. Something’s changed.”
“Regardless of how it happened, we have to stop it. Or else all of us, and everyone we know, will be very dead.” She waved her arms. “The entirety of human civilization, gone in an instant. Now―that thing from before. Was that her doing a Shift Event?”
