Make this mean something.
Those had been the last words Brade’s father had ever spoken to her.
Make this mean something. His words as they’d pulled his frantic child away from him.
Her parents had been executed three years later. She wasn’t supposed to know. But she’d found the official death report, which said they’d been “put down.” Apparently, they’d gotten out and “frightened” someone important, who had revoked the permit for keeping them.
To this day, she wasn’t certain if Winzik had been behind it. No parents meant no other influences on her. Something that had become increasingly important as he’d realized how powerful a cytonic she was.
He’d been brutal, for a varvax. She would almost miss him. Too bad he’d never realized that she wasn’t fitting into his plans, but the other way around. Today was the culmination of her work, as she reached into the nowhere and approached the delvers.
Make this mean something. Yes. It would all mean something. When a human, after centuries of trying, finally conquered the galaxy.
The delvers were hiding, like they always did these days. Before, when she would come into the nowhere, their eyes would appear—glaring, potent, intimidating. Now she seemed to be alone, though she could pick them out around her, watching. Seething, with the quiet burn of embers cooling after a fire was out.
It is time to make good on your promises, she said to them. Join us in this battle.
She’d agreed to use them only in an emergency. But she needed to make a splash, and intimidate her own forces, to ensure no one got the idea to do to her what she’d done to Winzik.
If we come, you will destroy the abomination? they asked. As usual, they thought and responded as one—a million different voices speaking at the same time.
I will not let her torment you, Brade said. That is all I promise for now. If this goes well, if you can distinguish between my forces and the enemy, then we’ll see. For now, I want ten or so of you here in my realm, ready to fight my enemies.
Ten might have been extreme, but Brade needed this to be a symbol, a day to remember. She would release the footage of this battle carefully, showing the dangers of the insurgents—but also, obliquely, showing her strength. Today, at long last, she made her parents’ sacrifice mean something. Today she—
Um, excuse me? one of the delvers said.
One. A singular delver. It opened up a burning white eye to look her over, less timid than the others.
It was an incongruous experience. Never before had she singled out one of them. Never before had one acted out of line with the others.
Yes? she said.
Yeah, um, I don’t believe you, the delver said.
Don’t…believe?
That you have the human abomination, as you claim.
I showed her to you, Brade said, exasperated.
Could be an illusion or a trick, the delver replied.
An…illusion or a trick?
Can’t you sense her? Brade asked.
Not right now, the delver said. And to this, the others seemed to agree. Though they also seemed baffled by the behavior of this one.
Some delvers were showing individuality now? The leaking of the somewhere into their realm was influencing them, making them deviate from one another.
With a growl, Brade changed her focus so she could see the somewhere overlapped by hints of the eyes and the delvers. She stalked through the room and seized Spensa by the collar, displaying her for the delvers.
Here she is, Brade said. We have her drugged to prevent her touching your realm—she’d be too dangerous otherwise.
I don’t know…the strange delver said. She looks suspicious.
Looks suspicious? Brade frowned, dropping Spensa. What are you? she demanded. What is going on—
“Sir!” a voice called, distracting her. “You should see this!” Brade ripped free of the nowhere to glance at the hologram.
The Defiant was turning and running. It had stopped firing, stopped maneuvering, and was trying to escape in a last mad push to get out of the inhibitor field. The starfighters had fled, and the escape transports were in chaos, pulling back from it. Leaving it exposed, leaving an opening for Brade’s forces.
“Hit that ship with everything!” she said, rushing over to the hologram. “The battle is ours! Bring that ship down!”
“It’s working,” General Halaki said. “You were right, sir!”
Brade watched with satisfaction as her fleet pulled inward, focused on the Defiant, hitting it repeatedly and finally beginning to overwhelm its shield. Explosions broke its surface, ripping off sections of the hull. Victory at last—except a strange sensation distracted her from her satisfaction. The air was warping. Not again. Was the drug wearing off so quickly?
She twisted and looked toward the wall, at Spensa. Who was pulling a needle from her own thigh, where she’d injected an entire syringe into her bloodstream.
Brade’s hand flew down to the pouch at her belt, which was unzipped. And empty.
Oh, scrud.
