I immediately went for my gun. We’d entered a small control room with some lockers on both walls and some industrial equipment along the far side. Brade stood by that equipment.
I put her in my sights.
Kimmalyn—at my side—swung down her gun, looking around with a panicked expression. One might assume her to be the least dangerous of us, because of her soft-spoken nature. But she had more confirmed kills than anyone in the flight but me.
Her rifle went immediately to her shoulder, and she engaged infrared vision on her helmet visor. Smart; she was looking for heat signatures, since she couldn’t see the threat.
I just stood there—heart thundering.
“What is it?” Kimmalyn hissed. “Should I secure the aliens?”
I stared right at Brade, who eyed me, tapping her foot on the floor. I had my gun pointed at her head, but I forcibly stopped myself from firing. It was a projection. Scud, another cytonic projection.
She was subtle in the way she touched my mind. I hadn’t noticed this wasn’t real, despite all my training.
“We’re good,” I said, lowering my gun. “But the enemy is watching me.”
“That I am,” Brade said, strolling around, looking over the facility. “I’m ready for you. The trap falls now.”
I braced myself, waiting, gun at the ready.
Nothing happened.
“Winzik placed a new inhibitor at this facility,” Brade explained to me. “The ones you’ve destroyed were decoys.”
Scud. I was about to flee into the hall, gun blazing against an ambush, until she spoke again.
“None of these humans,” Brade said, “will serve you.”
Oh.
Oh.
She’d prepared her trap on the wrong planet. She didn’t know where we’d landed—she was still working from the lies I’d fed her before, believing we were trying to recruit humans on one of the preserves we’d located. And her ability to project to me happened wherever I was, so she had no way to realize yet that I wasn’t where she thought.
“I knew you’d pick the most warlike and battle-ready of the humans,” she explained, raising a datapad. “They should be coming for you any moment…”
“Damn you,” I said to her. I screamed then, and shot her in the forehead—all in the name of the act—and cytonically threw everything I had at her.
Nothing happened. Scud. I’d forgotten the inhibitor—the very thing we were trying to bring down at the moment. It prevented me from doing anything with my powers. But Brade would be allowed, as she had codes. That caused my soul to tremble. Things started shaking.
My cytonic powers burst through the inhibitor, hitting Brade. Who gasped in surprise. She was stronger than I was at this sort of thing, but still she seemed shocked.
“Did you just cut through an inhibitor?” she snapped. “How?”
How indeed?
Delvers always ignore inhibitors, a part of my soul said. You become more and more like one of us, the longer we are bonded.
Scud. I knew Chet was right about delvers ignoring inhibitors—I’d seen it in the old video. That delver had attacked and destroyed the humans on Detritus, before we’d landed there. Despite all its protections.
Visibly concerned, Brade looked away, listening to someone at her side. She glanced at me, then vanished to deal with whatever had drawn her attention.
“You said she has this in hand!” Alanik said from behind me.
“She does,” Arturo cried. “Don’t you?”
“Actually,” I said, lowering my gun and looking back at them, “yes. Tell those officials to show us the inhibitor. I just saw a cytonic projection from a very dangerous human. We might not have much time.”
That made the already-addled aliens cry out. “Not a human,” one of them said. “Please. They won’t come here, will they?”
“Never can tell with those humans,” Kimmalyn said. “Best be quick and do what we say.”
The aliens did as they were told, and I smiled, thinking of Brade trying to run an operation against us on the wrong planet. Unfortunately, her appearance was still a big problem. She knew for certain we were trying something, and it wouldn’t be long before she realized she had the wrong place.
We needed to move faster. I had the aliens take us to the device, which was a large box installed in the corner of the small room.
“Open it,” Alanik told them.
“Open it?” the aliens said, looking to each other. “How? We…don’t have authorization to do that.”
Of course they didn’t—most people didn’t even know what was inside these boxes, despite using them to facilitate travel and communication all the time. That was the big secret.
We all shared a glance, and I felt foolish. How had I not considered this eventuality?
“Jorgen could open it with a mindblade,” Arturo said.
“Not with the inhibitor in place,” Alanik said. “Only approved people can use their powers here.”
“Powers?” the alien said. “Are you…um…?”
I raised my rifle to blast the lock off. But Arturo grabbed me by the arm. “Do that, and it will vanish.”
“What do you mean?” I said.
“Any interference with the boxes causes the contents to hyperjump away,” he said. “Haven’t you been paying attention? That’s how they keep control.”
Scud. I’d promised to save these slugs, not send them right back to their captors. I thought for a moment, and tried to puncture the inhibitor field again. It didn’t work. Why had it been possible moments ago, but not now? I reached out to Chet for an answer, but he seemed befuddled too.
Scud. I was at a loss. “Can we take it with us?”
“Uh,” the aliens said. “They told us that if we moved it after its installation we’d break it…”
“Let us try,” Kimmalyn said, kneeling down by the box. She scooped her slug out of its sling at her side and placed it on the box.
“Cytonics don’t work,” Arturo warned.
“I know,” Kimmalyn said. “But there are probably two slugs in there. An inhibitor slug and a hyperslug. One to teleport the other away, in the event the box is opened. A little like how we’re training ours to protect us if one of our ships goes down.
“But they’re trained using fear. Anger. Pain. They jump away as a response to danger. FM has shown us the opposite works better. So maybe we can persuade these two to react differently.” She petted her slug, Happy, one of the yellow-and-blue ones. He started fluting softly. Then more encouragingly.
I still felt a little…jealous how they’d befriended and trained all these slugs during my absence. FM had been at the forefront of that, with Rig. In opposition to Jorgen, whose logical nature made him see the slugs primarily as tools.
I suddenly felt guilty for not inviting FM on this mission. She would have liked the chance to help these slugs. I’d always viewed her as a tad distant, but I’d seen a different side of her this last week. And she’d trained the other slugs well.
Kimmalyn cooed softly to Happy—who in turn fluted comfortingly at the box. After a few tense moments, Kimmalyn turned and nodded to me.
Taking a deep breath, I shot the lock off the box. The alien guides cringed down, though I was using energy rounds, which didn’t ricochet—they were in no danger. We opened the box gently, and found two frightened slugs inside. Safe. Not teleported away.
Kimmalyn scooped them up, one in each arm, and nodded to us. Stroking the one that was colored blue and green, she calmed them both. “The first inhibitor is down,” she said.
“But why are we bringing these down?” the lead alien said. “I don’t understand!”
“They’ve been corrupted,” Alanik said. “By the enemy on the other side of your portal. That’s why you can’t get shipments through.”
“Oh,” the alien said, still seeming uncertain—but it was a good enough lie. I nodded to Alanik, who smiled back and even winked. I assumed that might mean the same sort of thing to her species as it did to mine.
With the aliens, we quickly flew on the platform to the main inhibitor station, located in one of their command towers. Rather than breaking in through the wall this time, we were escorted in as honored guests. Kimmalyn worked her magic and got the two slugs there out as well, and just like that my cytonic senses returned.
“Our inhibitor is up,” Arturo said, petting his green-and-blue slug, Rodeo, riding in his sling. “Location secure.”
“Scud,” I said, relaxing. “That feels a ton better. No longer like I have a gun to my head.”
The lead alien was watching us. “Um…” He looked closer at us, then started fidgeting. “You’re…not from command, are you? You’re…you’re…!”
“Freedom fighters,” Kimmalyn said, lightly putting a handgun to his head. “And yes, we’re human. Don’t worry though. We don’t actually eat the people we kill. We just build sculptures out of their body parts.”
The creature fainted.
“Oh,” she said. “Too much? Did they not want to know about the sculpture part?” She said it lightly, but had her gun trained on the others.
I have your friends, I sent to that distant commslug. But I found I couldn’t reach her anymore. The communication had been authorized initially, but now it was blocked and I had no idea how to contact her again.
“What do you want?” the second in command said, drawing my attention back to the problem at hand.
“The portal,” I said. “Take us to the nowhere portal.”
The next trip happened in a far different manner from the previous two. We put up shields along the sides of the platform for privacy, and held the officials at gunpoint after we stopped one of them—the junior communications officer—from trying to make a stealthy emergency call.
It was eerie, flying through town, feigning calm, passing people on rooftop picnics or hurrying to jobs. At that moment I felt a lot of what Jorgan had to be, as I held my gun at the ready, fully prepared to shoot. You never pointed your weapon at someone if you weren’t prepared for that. If something went wrong, there was a chance I’d have to kill these poor people.
I hated the situation. More, I hated Winzik and Brade for forcing me into it. As we flew there, my rifle trained on an innocent person, I felt a pain well up inside of me. A deep, nerve-shattering agony over the sorry, circular state of life. We were oppressed, so we felt we had to hit back hard enough to free ourselves of that oppression, which would in turn lead to them fighting back even harder.
It was a pain that whispered nothing could ever be right, or beautiful, or even normal again. That everything was inevitably ruined in every conceivable way, and all of my efforts were the emotional equivalent of trying to hold a friend’s intestines in as they died from a mortar shell blast.
The flying platform began to shake. The air vibrated, like from distant war drums. Sections of the railing vanished, and chunks of slag appeared around us—bits of melted metal, dropping and snapping against the floor.
I knew what those were. Pieces of Nedd’s ship, picked up and latched onto by my broken mind when he was nearly killed.
Oh, scud. I was hyperventilating.
I was a weapon. It was okay. I was a weapon.
No need for this. No need…to feel…
I fell to my knees, gun tumbling from my fingers. Kimmalyn dropped beside me immediately, wrapping her arms around me.
But that was meaningless. I didn’t need to be held.
I needed…
I needed…
I…
I pulled in tight and let her hold me. As if, by her effort alone, she could keep the universe from cracking in two.
I’d been lying to myself. It was getting worse. And I knew, deep within, that if I continued on this path I was going to get everyone near me killed.
Like before, this fit eventually subsided. It took longer—excruciating minutes during which I had to forcibly hold myself down, lest everything and everyone nearby suddenly be flung into the nowhere. I felt a buzzing at my mind—the slugs trying to get in—but I forced them away. I couldn’t let this consume them too.
As it finally calmed, I looked up at the others.
The aliens were huddled by the side of the ship, strange shell-like eyelids closed as they trembled. Kimmalyn still held me, while Alanik kept guns fixed on the enemy. Arturo had gathered up most of the frightened slugs like terrified puppies.
Silence. I huddled there, then—with trembling fingers—reached for my gun and made certain the safety was on. Still shaking, I nodded to Kimmalyn, who released me. I struggled to my feet and grabbed the railing.
“So,” Arturo said. “We…continue?”
“We have to,” Alanik said. “The enemy is alerted. Either we finish this mission, or we go back to command having ruined any chances of them executing their planned mission.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. There was no telling what the aliens thought of our antics, other than that they were obviously terrified. That was fine. It got us through a large set of cargo bay doors, into a warehouse that was mostly empty—though we had them give an evacuation order anyway. I could see where the acclivity stone had once been piled: large swaths of ground with painted square outlines for stock to be placed. It was all empty.
Closing this portal with the help of the Broadsiders really had achieved something. It was a proof of concept showing that shutting down the other portals would work as we hoped. I walked unsteadily to the large portal, which dominated most of the far wall of the warehouse.
“It’s locked,” the lead alien said—he’d recovered from fainting by this point. “It’s been locked for two weeks.”
“I know,” I said, hand on the stone. “I was one of the people who locked it. How large is your defense force here? How many fighters?”
He only answered after Kimmalyn nudged him with a rifle. Not because he was resistant to us, but because he still seemed so scared.
“Fifteen fighters,” he said.
“Send authorization for them to be moved,” I directed. “By us. No questions asked.”
We let him use a data terminal under close supervision to send that exact message. The others scrutinized the message several times, but this guy was so frightened, I didn’t think we had anything to worry about.
“Alanik, Arturo,” I said, once the message was sent, “looks like this warehouse is out of cargo. Leaves plenty of space for some fighters. Want to go start bringing them in? Grab one each, and fly in through those cargo doors?”
“We’re stealing their fleet?” Arturo asked. “We came here for fifteen fighters?”
“No,” I said. “They’re bargaining chips. How do I communicate with the people on the other side of this?”
Kimmalyn nudged the lead alien again. “You don’t,” he said. “They’ve shut off our ability to do that.”
“Is that so,” I whispered, closing my eyes. Reaching into the portal with my mind. It was locked, as I’d sensed so many times from the other side. Like opening a door between two adjoining rooms, I unlocked this side—but the other side was still closed. But radiation or something leaked through. We knew that because an increased number of cytonics were born in the area around nowhere portals.
And fortunately, I had someone on the inside.
M-Bot, I thought, you still in there?
I am, he replied. What did you just do a few minutes ago? Everything went crazy in here.
I went crazy out here, I replied. But right now, I need to talk to Peg. Can you find her?
She’s out in the belt, he sent me. I’m in the center, the true nowhere. I might be able to help you reach her though.
Good enough, I thought, letting M-Bot act like an operator. I reached through him, much as—I suspected—machinery reached through hyperslugs to facilitate communication. Using his strength, I quested out and found her mind, on the other side of this doorway.
Peg, I said in her mind.
She responded with shock. I wasn’t good enough with my powers to read the thoughts of a non-cytonic yet. Jorgen had mentioned he could do it, but everyone had talents in different areas.
Hopefully this would do.
It’s me, Spin, I sent her. I need you to unlock the portal.
Skepticism. I could sense that much from her. She thought this was a trap.
It’s me. I lost the mulun you gave me, Peg. But I did get out of the nowhere. I left Shiver with a promise, and I intend to keep it. I need you to open the portal for me. Then maybe, once this is all done, I can taste those seven fruits of contentment you talk about.
I hoped that referencing our final conversations would be enough. I hovered at the side of her mind, watching her work through the implications—the potential costs, the potential gains. Finally, she projected a thought. I couldn’t hear the specifics but…she wanted to know…
Oh! We talked about life, I sent her. We were alone together in the garden by your tree. Right after you gave me the mulun. I asked why a people like you, who seemed so aggressive, would grow trees. And you told me it was about life.
That seemed enough for her. A short time later, I felt the gateway unlock. Light spilled over me as the stone glowed white, then vanished, becoming a large glowing field.
I didn’t dare go through, not when my powers were acting so strangely. So, hoping I’d be forgiven, I pulled Peg through to our side.
She appeared a moment later, forming as if from light. A tall tenasi—a reptilian species with wide hands they held out before themselves, balancing with a large tail. A snout and teeth reminiscent of something from Earth’s very ancient past. She looked at me, then at the gathered soldiers behind me—and the three aliens we held at gunpoint—and gave a loud, barking laugh and grabbed me in a hug.
Kimmalyn immediately sighted on Peg with her rifle. I waved a warning hand, panicked, as the hug just about crushed me. Fortunately, Kimmalyn didn’t fire.
“Spin!” Peg said. “Words! You did it! Here, I thought it would be years before I heard from you. I’ve barely had time to start planting, and here you are growing fantads and pulling me into…” She trailed off, looking around. “Pulling me into the somewhere.”
She let go of me, seeming awed. It had been over twenty years for her, spent in exile. Betrayed by the Superiority.
“I’m out,” she whispered. Then she looked at me again. “What have you done?”
“It’s temporary for now, I’m afraid,” I explained. “Peg, this is my flight. My friends.” I waved toward the others.
“The family you were so, so eager to get back to?” she said. “Words. I hope you all know what she left behind. We offered her paradise.”
“So…that’s great,” Arturo said. “But, Spin, timing? How is rescuing this…person going to help us?”
“This isn’t a rescue,” I explained. “Peg isn’t interested in leaving the nowhere, I don’t think.”
The large pirate shook her head. “The belt is my home. Though there are many at Surehold who would love the chance to come back through.” She focused again on the captive aliens. “Temporary, you said? What are you up to?”
Behind us, Alanik and Arturo arrived through the front cargo doors with a starfighter each—Superiority interceptors, modern design. Not bad ships. Peg eyed them.
“I have fifteen of those,” I said to her, “for you. As payment for hiring the Broadsiders.”
“Hiring us to do what?” Peg said.
I smiled, pulling out my datapad and bringing up the display of the locations of the other four Superiority mining stations in the nowhere. “Nothing you wouldn’t want to do anyway, Peg.”
