by K. Gorman
“Hey, ’Miki,” Brennan said. “How’s it going?”
Her sister stood straighter, her eyes fixed on him. Then, she switched her focus to the other version of herself.
The other Nomiki broke from Brennan and walked over. The two gave each other a thorough examine.
“What…?” Nomiki opened her mouth, then closed it.
“I’m the part of you they took into the Cradle,” the other Nomiki said, her eyes sharp. “Stuck in time, a fragment of the you that you were at eighteen.”
Ah. Her sharpness and aggression made more sense. At eighteen, Nomiki had just gone through Brennan’s loss, and all of the anger and grief had melded together. She’d been feral for a few months, quietly calculating a plan and working reconnaissance.
Then, they’d used that anger and grief to slaughter the staff in the compound and escape.
Her sister remained speechless as Brennan stepped closer. A deep pain haunted her eyes as she took him in, along with a grief Karin had only seen around the edges of her anger.
“It’s not your fault, ‘Miki,” he said.
“But you’re―”
“I know,” he said. “I’m dead. This me that is here is only a fragment of what I was.” He stared at his hand. “It’s an odd feeling. Like I’m only half of myself. An incomplete ghost. But she showed up, and that helped.”
Nomiki’s jaw muscles rippled as she took in her odd, younger self again, her sharp eyes threatening tears.
“It’s nice to see you again,” he said. “Even if it’s only temporary.”
“Do you know where Sasha is?” Karin asked.
“Yes. We will take you to her. And we will help gather the rest of the new Eurynome Project subjects who are still alive and take you to them,” Layla said from beside her. The girl looked up at her, her ancient eyes bright and a wry smile pulling her lips. “It’s nice to be able to do something, for once. Not just be.”
Karin let out a breath. “All right. Let’s do it, then.”
“Good,” Layla said. “Leave your group here to guard the courtyard while Tylanus makes his transfers. The rest of us will gather the kids. I will take you to Sasha.”
A smile tugged at Karin’s lips―a smug humor as the analytical war side of her brain recognized a fellow Program in action―before she turned to Tillerman and gave her and the Centauri squad a nod. “Do it.”
Tillerman hesitated, her gaze sliding to Layla, who looked like a child. “Ah, Regent, if I may…”
“She’s modeled after Athena, the goddess of wisdom and military strategy, and she’s a lot older than she looks.”
Tillerman hesitated again, but gave a nod and turned away, addressing the rest.
Karin focused on Layla. “All right. Let’s go.”
Chapter Thirty
Eva shut the car door and stepped away, squinting as she looked up at the building. The sun was bright here, different than it had been in Brazil. Dustier, with less humidity. In Brazil, the jungle had pulled her in. Wrapped her in its embrace. She’d spent years of her childhood running through its trees, playing, exploring, slipping in and out of the world with her powers…
Here, it was different.
She couldn’t just disappear into the forest anymore―she had work to do, and a son to take care of.
Funding for the Project had died down, a direct result of Bernard’s refusal to produce more Programs for the war pantheon―a move she approved of.
Eurynome had never been about war. And she hated feeding children to the company’s profit machine.
She squinted until she came under the awning for the lobby and let herself in through the doors.
“Eva! Oh my God, you’re back!” Jessie, the secretary, stood up from her chair and made to come round her desk. “How was Hawai’i? Did you and Tylanus have fun?”
“It was amazing,” she said, beaming. Then she’d gone on to gush about waterfalls, and the jungle, and attempting to surf for the first time, the ancient bunker on top of Diamond Head from when the Americans had had it.
Truth be told, it had been amazing how many tourists were still making the trip there. The world might have fallen into war, but clearly, only some parts of it were being affected.
Sadly, Brazil was one of them.
God, she missed it. If she’d had the chance, she would have taken Tylanus there instead.
Still, though, it was good for him to see his heritage. They were both technically Hawai’ian, after all.
She went into the back, passing one of the first-floor classrooms and the clinic that had turned into a storage area. The hazy light from outside followed her along, lighting her way through the series of wide hallways.
This place had that going for it. With only the slight shadow of a forest impeding it, it managed to get plenty of natural light. And it had been designed to use it.
Sadly, the place she was going to had not been.
She stepped down into the basement, and the air changed immediately. Colder, with a dampness to it.
No light came from under the doors to either Bernard or Elliot’s offices, nor any of the others. She sighed, then hiked her bag over to her own door, fishing out the keys from her pocket.
Less than twenty minutes into her return, loud footsteps sounded up the halls, striding quickly toward her.
Bernard appeared in the door, his gaze unusually alert and focused. “Eva! I heard you were back.”
“Oh―hi―yes,” She held up a finger for him to wait as she swiveled around, diving for a spot on her desk. “And I got something for you. Here.”
She gave him a broad smile as she held the package with the plumeria cutting out to him. “Here. It’s supposed to be the same color that was in your old office.”
“Oh,” he said, taking it from her and frowning down at its contents. “How nice.”
How nice.
He didn’t care at all.
That was fine. She hadn’t expected him to. The gift of plumeria was just her going through the motions.
She wondered if he knew that.
Still, it was something that connected her to him, which indicated more thought on her part.
“Eva,” he began, his tone different. Deeper. More serious.
She frowned. “Did something happen?”
“Yes. I need a Cradle base.”
His words slammed into her like blood into a heart. Adrenaline surged. For a second, a dull roar hit her ears, her breath stalling in her throat.
She knew exactly what he meant. Currently, the only bases that existed were herself—Program Chaos—and her son, Program Tartarus.
Gaia hadn’t even begun production yet.
He wants my son.
“How about another clone?” she asked, plastering a smile on her lips and making sure it would reach her eyes. “That worked last time. My genes are good.”
“Yes, yes. That would work. Thank you, Eva.” He nodded once, then ducked his head down with a frown like he did when he was thinking. “Nine-month timeline? Could we cut it to six?”
“Nine is required for full development,” she told him. “Otherwise, you risk…abnormalities.”
What’s his hurry?
“Ah. I see. Yes, thank you. Please start that.”
“And the others?” she asked. “Will you check up on them?”
He nodded. “Yes. I will be around for the next four months, proceeding with Quaternary stage.”
She frowned. “Already? I didn’t think we had that permission.”
“They’ll change their minds. Who’s in Tertiary now?”
She had to think for a moment. “Karin and Nomiki, Programs Eos and Enyo, and Brennan, Program Arawn. Both Nomiki and Brennan are up for Quaternary.”
“Good. Please prepare them for the process.”
When he walked away, she frowned at his back.
The Eurynome Project prepared its subjects for connection to a hive mind, plugging their individual archetypes together to form a whole. The years l
eading up had been a race to keep their systems alive and in check with their changing bodies, awaken their archetypes enough to display anomalies, and supplement their minds. Tertiary phase had begun the process of connection. Quaternary was supposed to complete it.
She’d read it all before, understood the process.
But something in his manner unsettled her.
Why does he need a new Cradle base?
Chapter Thirty-One
Karin unholstered her blaster, turned off its safety, and followed Layla straight down the courtyard and into the first buildings. The place had a flowing, open plan. Though designed to allow the outside’s large amount of natural light to flow in and illuminate most places, there were regular alcoves with small crystals that she suspected lit up during the nighttime, along with ornate, archaic-looking torches attached to the walls at the entrance to some of the larger rooms, and especially along the outside.
They passed from inside to outside, jogging through a small open-air garden with beautiful, kept lawns, hedges, and statuary filling the area, and a little pond of koi fish with a small, gurgling water feature in the middle. Stone columns and balustrades led up to a second and third floor, their balconies wide and empty, clothed in a mixture of dusky, rose-pink marble and carved white balustrades with decorative supports. The statuary continued as they moved through a marble archway and into a large hall, its ceiling at least three stories tall and decorated with even more statues.
Except, here, it began to get odd.
Instead of just straight statuary highlighted in the alcoves, as one might expect to find in a regular temple, gallery, or museum, these statues had been elevated. Below, a series of lifepods acted as their plinths.
About half of them were dormant, their glasses dark and the liquid inside on a simple stasis bubble.
But some were active.
Her gaze snagged on the first lit statue, that of the goddess Nike. Below her, the tank was active and occupied, the small, naked body of a brown-skinned girl curled partway into a fetal position, her dark hair flowing free and bobbing in the water.
Tiny bubbles clung to her skin, and her eyes fluttered under their lids, as if she were deep in REM. She wore a breathing mask over her nose and mouth, and a nanoinjector crown bit into her skull like a metallic clawed foot, attached to a cable that led to the top of the tank.
The cable continued up the back wall of the alcove, heading to the ceiling. Following them up, she saw that the other pods did the same, and all linked together in a trunk that led up the hallway, its cables like the roots of a tree.
Or nerves.
Sasha’s grand-scale, mythological version of the Cradle?
Her lip curled, gaze wandering over the rest of the active pods as she slowed to a walk behind Layla. When she came to the third and fourth, however, she frowned.
Every person in the tanks looked the same.
Same brown skin. Same frizzy, flowing black hair. Same height and build, though a few were more muscled than others.
What the…
“She used herself as a base and made clones from her own genetic material,” Layla said, reading her expression. “She didn’t do everyone, as she was planning to simply steal the ones she had already worked on, but there are enough to give her a boost and fill in the gaps for a completed Cradle.”
“Would it work?” Karin asked.
“Yes.”
Fuck. They had to get those kids out of here.
She picked up another jog and led the way to the next hallway, electing to ignore the life pods. There, the rose-pink marble shifted to a tan tone. More columns and decorative arches met her sight, along with marble floors that gleamed. At the far end of the hallway, a distant balcony overlooked a patch of blue sky tinged with a wisp of cloud.
They must have come far enough to see above one of the ridges.
They continued on.
A distinct sense of familiarity began to echo through her mind as she slipped into the next hall and continued on. It felt as though she’d been here before. Walked these halls. She kept catching snatches of buried memory, herself in a pale, floor-length dress that draped from her shoulders and hips, pausing at one of the columns, looking down past the edge of a pool. Light seemed to catch in her skin, giving off a slight glow that jarred against the backdrop.
That’s part of the programming, Tia informed her. Dream therapy, a form of brainwashing with virtual reality. See? Look―
A different memory pushed in, and suddenly, she was in a different body and skin. Black hair framed her face and ran down her shoulder in a slender braid. Thin, willowy fingers reached out over the water, watching the fish slide beneath its dark surface. In her mind, the scales of the universe balanced in harmony, darkness and stars reflected in her eyes. When she stepped, the ends of her flight feathers occasionally brushed the backs of her calves.
Wait, she thought, her attention snapping to that detail. You have wings?
Eurynome has wings, yes. The dream model was an early prototype. She was often depicted with wings in art, and associated with birds. And eggs.
And the snake? Karin asked, her mind flashing back to both the myth and the Eurynome Project’s specific logo. Ophion, her husband?
Yes, Bernard got creative with that. Turned it into an ouroboros. I suppose it’s fitting, given that he’s still apparently alive.
Actually, they didn’t know that. So far, they knew that Elliot had been alive two years ago. They had no confirmation about Bernard, except for a mention of him on Mars over fifteen years ago.
Also, there was always an egg.
The vision of herself as Tia-Eurynome jumped back into her head, this time focusing on an egg floating above the small pond, and the muscly ripples of the snake that circled in the water below it.
Karin shook her head, freeing her mind from the image, and let her eyebrows inch upward. Quite the fans of symbolism, aren’t they?
That, and exceptionally beautiful women.
Tia’s tone had an edge that she suspected the woman hadn’t meant to convey.
Layla paused at an archway, taking a moment to look, her frizzy hair catching the light, then turned to the left. They entered another garden and another set of statue alcoves. More and more life pods appeared, and she was beginning to recognize a few of the gods and goddesses above them. They passed Artemis, with her bow and deer, the statue taken directly from one of the historical depictions she’d seen in holos, as well as Apollo, her brother. Leto, their mother, came next, draped in a shawl and with her face turned longingly and demurely toward where the twins stood strong. Both Apollo and Artemis’ tanks were dormant, but Leto’s had another Sasha clone in it, curled over herself with her hair floating like a dark sea.
Then, around the next corner, came Helios and Selene.
And Eos.
When she read the name, she stopped. And stared.
Inside, something clicked.
Her tank was empty, waiting, the water inside dark and dormant. For a split instant, her mind felt the shock of liquid inside, the floating sensation of being suspended, the connection of the Cradle, the way her body felt so loose, and her mind connected.
It felt like it was waiting.
And, above, was her statue.
The girl depicted was young, perhaps seventeen―the same age she’d been when she’d escaped. Though smoothed by the statue’s perfection, and the vibrance of youth, something she’d only had sparingly between the sickness of her treatments, the girl did look like a near-sister to her, especially when she imagined Nomiki’s features on her. She wore a loose, flowing robe, with bare feet and bare arms, a pitcher of water pouring light that glowed in the air. Flowers were loosely braided into her long hair, which hung in a small updo that fell down her back. And, on her back…
Well, she thought. I guess I have wings, too.
Perhaps they hadn’t made it into her brainwashing dream modeling.
“Karin? What are yo―Oh.” Layla had g
one several meters up before realizing that she had stopped, then figured out why.
She came back and stopped next to her, looking up at the statue. “You completed your Program, didn’t you?”
“I completed the Eurynome Program.”
“Yes, you did, but you completed Eos at the same time. That’s why you’re feeling what you’re feeling. It’s like coming home, isn’t it?”
Karin looked around at the hall, taking in its gleaming marble, the gold inlays and trim below the vaulted ceilings, the way the natural light played up the corridor. The sound of gurgling water came from around the corner, along with the slow, cool sigh of the wind.
The place looked utterly foreign. Garish. Opulent. So unlike anywhere she’d ever been.
And yet, it did feel familiar.
She closed her eyes, feeling the space pull at her. There was light at the end of her senses, vibrant and flowing, just out of reach.
If she went into the tank, she could touch it.
Ignore that. It’s just the programming messing with you.
Layla slipped her smaller hand into Karin’s gloved one, gripped her fingers, and pulled her along.
“Come on. She’s this way.”
She gave her head a shake and forced herself to refocus. Ahead, the hallway bisected another. Light flickered and pulsed from the right, and another gurgling splash echoed up.
Then, something shifted. Layla slowed and her back tensed, making her profile taller. Then, she stopped, her attention fixed on the right-hand archway.
The whisper click of claws came from around the corner, and the shadow of something big loomed into view from the next hallway.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The Sentinel had a strong, sturdy appearance. About the size and shape of a racehorse, it had a thick, arched neck and a head that looked vaguely reptilian. Its legs had the bone structure of a gazelle, but the muscles of a lizard―they were vertical now, but she’d seen their double-joints rotate for it to scale a sheer wall―and ended in four clawed toes. A fifth toe on the forelegs had developed into an entirely separate appendage, folding back on the creature’s leg like a bat’s wing and wielding a scythe-like blade that glistened in the light from the other room. Its shining black skin looked like it had been cut from a clutch of obsidian glass.
