by Rachel Caine
I must be getting close to the docking bay.
Abruptly, the floor dropped out from under me, plunging me into the sublevel. The hard landing knocked all the wind out of me, and I wheezed on my side for a few seconds. They probably thought that would contain me, but I’d likely memorized more Leviathan physiology than they expected. It was dark as hell, but the drones couldn’t get to me either. I’d crawled through worse with Derry, but not being able to see did screw with my head. My own breathing sounded extra loud, echoed by my heartbeat.
It would be so easy to get lost. I made a few wrong turns, stumbled into walls, and into a pile of . . . I didn’t know what. Something broken that Typhon had hidden. I sliced my fingers on the metal scraps and ended up pulling a piece loose to use to feel my way forward. No more face-plants, no more smashing my nose into walls. Like that, I crept through the dark, trying to keep my bearings. If I’m right, then . . .
Here.
I felt around for the catch and breathed a word of thanks when I found it. Crawling on all fours, I came out into the hallway to hear sounds of combat in the distance. Were the drones targeting Bea? I had to trust that she could handle herself and would meet me as promised. Still have to get there.
Outside the docking doors, I found a patrol bot waiting for me. It hadn’t spotted me yet, so I took a knee, aimed, and fired. The stunner shot bounced off its shielding, and I spat a curse. Tranq darts would be useless too, and I wasn’t strong enough to beat this thing into pieces with my bare hands. As it unloaded on me, I tucked and rolled, the heat stinging my skinsuit while I took cover. Smoke rose from my feet and legs, though the smart-clothing saved me from more serious injury.
All or nothing, I told myself.
While its energy cells cooled and cycled, a failsafe to prevent overheating, I charged with everything I had and jammed the metal shard into its power core. The resultant shock blew me backward, slamming me into the wall so hard I saw stars, but the bot was worse off, juddering and frying with blue sparks and dark smoke. When the thing cooled enough, I crawled toward it and ripped out its manual command input panel. I might not be as good as Bea, but I could use the bot’s security codes to override the docking door.
They’re sending more drones. Hurry.
A minute later, the doors disengaged and I limped into the docking area. Shakily I keyed the bay shut and locked it just as something exploded against the metal blast door. Too close. It took the last of my strength to hobble to the Hopper. I hadn’t been running for my life on Nadim like I had in the Zone, and the last thing I’d eaten had been those greasy bites of meatloaf. How long ago was that?
Trusting Beatriz to cut us loose as promised, I opened the door and climbed into the pilot seat. Like any good getaway driver, I should have our ride prepped and ready to jet when she rolled up, so I checked all the panels and started the engine. I got the Hopper computer connected to the docking bay, just a simple override that meant I could open the doors for her in a crisis. Necessary when shit was chasing you. Worry flared, and I rubbed the fresh burn on the back of my arm, fiddled with the scorched bits of my skinsuit.
She’ll be okay, right? She’s fast. Smart.
As I opened a comm channel, the big Leviathan rocked again, Nadim straining himself to death on that tether.
It would take too long to go private, time we might not have. I opened up a channel. “Steady, Nadim. I’m here. Bea’s fine. We’re both good.”
At this point, it was irrelevant if the Elder heard us. It wasn’t like we had state secrets to hide, more the other way round.
Typhon knew we planned to run, and it was his job to stop us. No matter the cost.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Breaking News
“ZARA. ZARA . . .” NADIM said my name like a prayer, all desperate amazed sweetness. “You’re alive. But how—”
“I’ll explain later. We’re going to get you loose. You need to catch our Hopper quick and then take off, top speed. It may take some slick maneuvering to execute. Are you up for it?”
“For you and Beatriz? Anything.”
“Then stand by, stay calm, and wait for us.”
“Yes, Zara.”
Letting out a slow breath, I tapped the comm. “Bea, you’re on the way, right?”
“Thirty seconds out, coming in hot!”
That had to mean Typhon’s defenses were on her, so her life hung on my timing. But I wouldn’t let Beatriz down. Not today. I counted, slapped the control, and opened the door just as Bea slid inside, followed closely by a drone. I was a shade too slow to destroy it with the closing of the heavy blast door. She took cover behind some piles of gear, and I vaulted out of the Hopper. We didn’t have any time to waste, but fighting for my friend would always come first.
Grabbing a metal pole that was likely a repair tool of some kind, I swung for the bleachers. It fired; I dodged. The bastard drone could hover just out of my range, and if it blasted me, I’d be crispy meat chunks instead of a person.
“Get to the Hopper!” I shouted. “I got this!”
Bea sprinted for the shuttle. The thing wheeled to fire on her, and I whipped the pole at it and clocked it so hard, it spun into a stanchion. As it righted itself, Typhon listed to starboard, and I realized Nadim was trying to help, actually ramming the Elder. The knock tumbled the drone hard enough to screw up its axis, allowing me to hit it again and again. My last strike bent its firing barrel, so that when it tried to shoot me, it went up in a hail of sparks and shrapnel. Tumbling forward, I thought I dodged the worst of it, until I scrambled into the Hopper and Bea’s eyes nearly bugged out.
“Zara, you’re on fire!” She beat at my arm—the same one where I got shot earlier, so no wonder I didn’t feel it.
“Just get us out of here. Nadim’s waiting.” I pounded the button for the external doors and waited for them to open.
Fear nearly crippled me—maybe Typhon had his systems back by now—but no. His Honors must still be crawling like inchworms toward the knife I’d left them, cursing me all the way. With excruciating precision, the docking doors fanned open, and finally Bea could swoop the Hopper out. As promised, Nadim was waiting, battered and beautiful, and Beatriz had totally come through, because he was free. His doors opened, and he dipped to catch us in a twisting move so graceful that my heart skipped a beat.
We’re home. We have to keep one another safe. We can’t rely on anybody else.
Nadim and Bea were my imperatives. She helped me out of the Hopper, and together, we limped toward the main deck. Nadim threw the doors wide for us in welcome as Beatriz said, “I have to ask. How did you get out of the cell?”
“Magic?” I offered.
“Seriously, tell me. Or I’ll drop you.” She moved as if she meant to take away the shoulder I was leaning on.
With a sigh, I gave her a concise version of events, and Bea stared at me, wide-eyed. “Holy shit, Z. You seduced Typhon? You’re like a damn Leviathan whisperer or something.”
“What is seduce?” Nadim asked.
Oh God.
Bea studied me. Then, with an evil-pixie grin, she answered, “When a human and a Leviathan love each other very much—”
In a rush I covered her mouth with my palm. “Don’t say that to him!”
“I’m confused.” He did sound bewildered, which tugged at my heartstrings.
“To distract Typhon, I bonded with him. A little.” It was stupid when we had so many other problems, but I worried how he would respond.
But Nadim only said, “I’m surprised he permitted that.” Then I could feel him leaping, putting all his speed and strength to use as he ran from Typhon, from everything Typhon represented. We were running.
We were free.
Nadim suddenly wrapped himself around me in a warm rush, exactly like a desperate embrace. I fell through him, into him, blazing like a star and meeting his brightness with a collision that blew apart everything else, every hurt, every regret, every fear. Pure and perfect, no rough edg
es or pieces that clashed.
Zadim.
I felt his laugh, saw it shimmer in silver and copper around me. Felt the joy of it flare in every nerve. I could see the stars burning hard around us, hear the sweet chorus of their songs that twined and twirled into a vast symphony, intricate as precision clockwork I could only dimly comprehend. Each galaxy, singing. The universe, shouting its life, its power, its fierce beauty.
I felt small as an atom, and large as a sun, and most of all, I felt right for the first time I could remember.
I was not I.
We were Zadim.
And we flew.
It took practice to walk in Zara’s body with half my mind flung out among the stars; being flesh felt clumsy and impractical, full of flaws and leaks. Leaks. We could see, looking down at it, that the body had damage—a scorched, wide burn on the upper right arm, and even more reddened skin from the drone’s fire. Must be repaired, we thought in perfect agreement, and split again, though not apart exactly, to inhabit Zara’s form. Selfish, perhaps, to hold together so hard.
When Zara’s eyes opened and focused on Beatriz, we recognized the shock, the flinch. We made Zara smile. “It’s all right,” we said, Nadim’s music and modulation, Zara’s energy and voice. “We’re all right. Don’t freak out, okay?”
“Your eyes . . .”
“Black?” She slowly nodded, a frown grooved between her perfect eyebrows. “Chill. It’s us. Zadim.”
“Zadim?”
“What? We can’t have a cute couple name?” That part of us was pure Zara Cole, and we laughed. It relaxed Beatriz, who had good reason to be wary.
But it was not a trivial thing, as Zara’s tone had implied. This was a bond-name. We had chosen it. Become it. It was ours.
We also knew it was time to stop. Zara was weak and tired. Nadim nursed injuries and hunger. So we let go, drifted apart, and . . .
I—the smaller I—fell.
The breath I dragged into my lungs felt alien and tainted, but I needed it to clear my head and get myself straight. My eyes ached. I blinked hard, fast, and remembered Marko and Chao-Xing doing the same thing. My pupils must be contracting again. Everything seemed slightly bright, slightly blurry, and then it was better.
Though I didn’t exactly remember leaving the docking area, I was about halfway to medical, still leaning on Bea’s shoulder.
“Graças a Deus,” she breathed, and steadied me when I stumbled. “You need treatment. Now.”
She was right. My arm ached, a screaming burn that made me want to curl up into a ball. Bea hurried me to the med bay and cursed when she remembered we’d deactivated EMITU. With a sigh, I sank down on the soft, squishy med bed as Beatriz rewired the bot.
It came alive with a sudden rush of motion, rotating arms and sending her ducking for cover as it rolled forward toward me. “Honor Cole,” it said. “You come here often?”
“Way too,” I said, and bit back a groan. “Arm.”
The bot leaned forward, examined it, and said, “Congratulations. You’ve achieved peak barbecue.” While it was sassing, though, it was also working fast with a cutting tool. My uniform sleeve slipped off, revealing a spectacularly burned expanse of skin, and I winced and looked away. EMITU let out a mournful little whistle. “Blue ribbon, Honor Cole. Shall I whip up a sauce?”
“Only if the sauce is the kind that stops it from hurting.”
By the time I said it, the bot was already treating me with needles and sprays. A cool blessed relief slipped down my spine as I let out a long, satisfied breath and closed my eyes.
“Honor Teixeira! Bring plates! Tonight we feast like kings!”
Really got to reprogram that damn thing.
I should have been worried as hell. That Typhon would follow us or we might not be able to run fast enough. Should have tried to figure out what we’d do next and where we would go.
But I couldn’t stay awake a minute longer.
I woke to find Beatriz sitting beside me, reading. Somehow, I’d known she’d be there. “Hey,” I whispered. “Where are we?”
“Somewhere off Centaurus A,” she said. “No sign yet of Typhon.” She hesitated and fussed with a corner of the sheet covering me. “Nadim was singing to you. I could hear him. I think he was trying to help you heal. I tried to tell him it doesn’t work like that for humans, but . . .”
“I think I heard him,” I said. I had a dim memory of it. Also of a sweet, soft humming. “And you.”
EMITU suddenly jerked out of the recharging unit and charged across the room to my bedside, where it used a tiny laser to slice bandages and check the healing beneath.
“Hmmm,” it said. “That doesn’t seem right.”
“What?” Alarm blared through me, and I raised my head to look at a perfect, smooth, uninjured arm. “Good job, Doctor Sarcastic.”
Whisking the bandages away, EMITU checked my arm, and despite the terrible bedside manner, it did so gently. “You’ve been asleep for four point seven two hours,” the bot said. “This should not be healed. It should be healing. Note my tenses.”
“You’re making me tense,” I said. “What are you going on about?”
“I have no information for you. You’re healed. Get out.”
“Rude!”
“Get out, please?”
That was so purely Beatriz’s tone that I had to laugh as I swung my legs off the bed. I felt good. Really good. The bot was dead right. Four hours of sleep and some pain chem shouldn’t have done that, but I felt like I could run every corridor on the ship and still have energy to burn. In fact, I grabbed Beatriz out of her chair and danced her around the room in something that was half salsa, half stumble.
“You,” she said with mock severity, “are high.”
“I’m not,” I said. “I’m fine.”
We walked to the kitchen and made a meal. Nadim, I realized, hadn’t spoken, but I felt him there, calm and assured at the edges of my awareness. I brushed fingers over the wall, and light followed in a lazy streak. Pulsing gold. My brown skin was beautiful against the blushing pallor of Nadim’s.
Bea watched me, then hesitantly reached out and put her palm flat on his skin. A flare of color streaked away—purple, not gold. It zipped back and exploded in a corona of color around her fingers, and from the smile, she could feel that. “My favorite color,” she said, and stroked the wall just a little. “Thank you, Nadim.”
“You’re welcome, Beatriz,” he said. “Is there anything you need?”
“I—I’d like to hear the stars sing. The way you hear them.”
I could feel Nadim’s surprise and his pleasure that she seemed willing to take this step. “Close your eyes. I promise, I won’t take you deep.”
It was strange, watching her go away, disappear out of herself and swim with Nadim . . . shallow, as he’d promised, but the sensations I felt from her were familiar. Delight. Wonder.
He let her go just a moment later, and when she opened her eyes again, they shone brighter than ever. “Oh,” she said faintly. “I see. Wow.” She let that hang for a few seconds in silence, then said, “I—I’m not comfortable with the idea of losing myself. You understand that, don’t you?”
“Of course. But you won’t. I’m not Typhon.”
Typhon wasn’t Typhon, once upon a time, I thought. That haunted me, the memory of that young and hopeful Leviathan bonding so exultantly, so freely with his pilot and starsinger. Broken and mutilated by grief. But I didn’t say anything.
More to the point, I couldn’t stop thinking about the glimpse I’d had of Typhon as a lone soldier. If the Leviathan were fighting some unknown enemy, it explained the need for weapons. Maybe we needed to worry about something other than Typhon?
I dug into my pancakes. “Hey, Nadim?”
“Yes, Zara?”
“Where are we?”
He linked with me just enough to show me a vast star field with a giant white arrow pointing to a tiny speck moving through it. I laughed, because he spelled out YO
U ARE HERE.
But the humor faded fast, and I said, “What about Typhon?”
The star field collapsed into darkness. “I don’t know,” he said. “I can’t feel him anymore. We’ve left him behind.”
“Good.” But it still bothered me. Typhon wasn’t one to give up easily, if at all, and he considered it a mission to bring Nadim in for the rough justice of the Leviathan’s Gathering. So why wasn’t he on our track? He was quick and angry. If he had to quarter the galaxy to find us, he would. Leviathan didn’t forget.
“Nadim, I was thinking . . . back on Earth, I lived in the Zone. You know, with the fringers. People who couldn’t fit into the perfect society. Anything like that exist out here?”
“A complicated question,” he said. “There are thousands of civilizations scattered through the stars that we visit. Most are well advanced, some are not. Some are barely controlled chaos, like your Earth.”
Bea and I both burst out laughing. We were trying to imagine casting our clean, straight streets and orderly houses as chaos. “Okay, so . . . are there places we can hide? Aliens who could grant asylum or something?”
“It’s possible. The younger Leviathan who embark on the Tour, who bond with humans, we are not told of these things either. We’re . . . sheltered for your protection. But Zara has queried me so much that I had to question things too.”
“Like why I’m building you a weapon,” I said. “Which you never answered.”
“Because I didn’t know. I still don’t,” Nadim said. “But I do suspect.”
A vid screen opened in midair. It showed us a series of images.
Typhon. Covered with scars and spots of damage.
Typhon’s wicked barbed tail, gleaming hard black under starlight.
Typhon’s skin peeling away, revealing bio-grafted weapons.
Nadim said, aloud, “I believe the Elders may be involved in some kind of intergalactic crisis.”
That lined up perfectly with what I’d glimpsed in Typhon: the lonely, fatalistic soldier, weary and afraid and unable to hope. Glimpses of death and horror, all too fast for me to understand.
