WE PASSED THROUGH the negative realm and back into our reality, staring out into the purple darkness of the night sky. There were no stars peeking through the miasma, not this deep. Merely a cloudy darkness with patches of violet and red, like someone had put a multicolored blanket over the sun.
It was nearly dawn on this part of the planet. The Council tree stood out in the distance, the walkway lights of the city pathways blinking through the reddish cloud between us.
“Stars, I’m never going to get used to how strange this is,” Arturo said over the radio.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I said.
“So scudding beautiful,” he agreed. “They make our trees look like infants. Those used to seem impressive to me. Most of our plants grow in vats.”
I reached out toward the Council tree. Quilan would know I’d disappeared, of course. He’d guess what I was doing. But the other cytonics were moving away from us now in the direction of Tower. They’d boarded ships in a hurry. Quilan was worried.
He was right to be. I’d left a group of humans with a superweapon outside one of ReDawn’s major population centers.
“The other cytonics are leaving,” I said. “Do you think Jerkface will keep his promise not to fire on the tree?” I was proud I remembered to use the callsign over the radio, though I still didn’t quite understand the purpose.
“He will,” Arturo said without hesitation. “Do you worry he won’t?”
Yes, I did. But admitting it felt like weakness.
“Your callsign,” I said. “It’s… Amphi?”
“Amphisbaena,” he said.
My pin didn’t translate it. “What does that mean?”
“It’s a dragon from Old Earth mythology. I picked it because it’s fearsome and it flies.”
“If I need a callsign I’d like something that flies,” I said. “That seems logical.”
“It doesn’t have to be something logical,” he said. “It can be anything you want.”
That seemed more difficult though. To pick from anything. “We don’t have creatures that fly on ReDawn. They wouldn’t survive the miasma.”
“Yeah, well, we never had real dragons either. There are other things that fly though, real or not. Like eagles. Or angels.”
“I’ve heard of those!” I said. “Flying humans from your old religions. When my people first met yours through the negative realm, some of them thought we were angels. Others thought we might be devils. Like angels but evil, right?”
“That’s true. But you’re more of an angel though, right? I don’t like thinking we’ve made a deal with the devil.”
He said it jokingly, but it was the kind of joke that had the bite of truth to it. “An angel then,” I said. “Definitely.”
“It suits you,” he said. “An angel with a great big sword, coming down to exact justice.”
I wasn’t sure that was what I was, but the idea of wielding a sword of justice against the Superiority was appealing, so long as it was a metaphorical one. I had no desire to get into an actual fight with such a crude weapon.
“One moment,” I said. “I’m going to check on Rinakin.”
I tuned my radio to the channel he was broadcasting from. He was still there, talking with one of the Unity orators about the trade benefits of capitulating to the Superiority. I ran the signal through my ship’s location device, then switched to my channel with Arturo.
“Rinakin is still broadcasting from the Council tree,” I said. “The signal is coming from the area of his old residence. His primary residence is far from here, but he has a place where he stayed when he was on the Council, before he lost the election.”
“What are we flying into?” Arturo asked. “Do they have gun emplacements? Other defenses?”
“No,” I said. “Putting weapons around the government headquarters would be far too aggressive. They’re trying to convince the Superiority that we’re peaceful. And Quilan and the others will have taken most of the in-residence air force with them as well.”
“Finally the Superiority has done us a favor,” Arturo said. “I’ll take it. Are we flying in or hyperjumping?”
“We shouldn’t get any closer in our ships,” I said. “Let’s stop our ships and leave them. We can leave Chubs behind as well. That way we’ll both be able to get back here if something goes wrong.”
“Last time I hyperjumped out of my ship, I left it on the other side of the universe,” Arturo said. “But you’re the flightleader on this mission. And I’d rather your friends down there didn’t see us coming.”
“Agreed,” I said, reaching out to Naga. I wound my way through the negative realm to the Council building, forming the coordinates in my mind. I’d traveled via hyperjump to Rinakin’s residence before, so I knew exactly where I was going.
And then I called Naga to follow as I jumped. The eyes fixed on me and I could feel their ire, like they wanted to swat me out of the sky. That was two hyperjumps in quick succession. I hoped I wouldn’t have to make many more.
We emerged in Rinakin’s study, next to the wide barkwood table. The room looked pristine, nothing like the mess it had been when Rinakin was working in here regularly. The shelves were empty, the table polished and clear.
Through the arched doorway I could hear a voice.
I grabbed Arturo by the arm and pulled him behind the door. Naga squirmed in her sling, trying to twist around to look up at me.
“Thank you, Cessil,” Rinakin was saying. “You don’t need to return for the tray. I’ll hold it until morning.”
“Of course,” another voice responded. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.”
Rinakin was no longer broadcasting. I scowled. He was being treated like a guest, not a prisoner. Maybe Nanalis wanted to keep that a secret from the staff as well, and Rinakin had decided to go along with it. But that seemed so… spineless. Rinakin wasn’t the type to back down, even if they were threatening his family.
I heard the clicking of a spoon in a metal-lined cup. Rinakin was apparently taking tea.
Behind me Arturo was silent, but I could feel his breath against my neck. Every part of me was suddenly aware of him, standing so near. Goosebumps broke out over my skin.
“How do you want to play this?” Arturo whispered. The pin read his volume, translating his words so softly I could barely hear them.
The spoon clicked against a table, followed by silence.
“Wait here,” I whispered back.
Arturo nodded. I was glad he didn’t feel the need to keep me in sight every second. I didn’t need him tending me like a child.
But I hesitated. He could jump away in a moment and leave me behind. I could follow, of course. I could jump right back to their planet and give them a piece of my mind, so it wasn’t being left behind that frightened me.
It was losing their trust, I realized. It was being alone.
It was discovering that I always had been.
“You ready?” Arturo asked. He was watching me quizzically, like he didn’t understand why I was hesitating.
“You’ll be right here,” I said.
He looked surprised. “Yes,” he whispered, his voice barely a breath. “I’ll be right here if you need me.”
I was a cytonic. With the inhibitor gone, I was in power here. I didn’t need some human watching my back.
But somehow it made me feel better anyway.
“Okay,” I said, and I stepped around the door and into the hallway beyond. The corridor opened up into Rinakin’s living space. It wasn’t the most lavish place—Rinakin preferred function over ostentation. He sat on a cushioned chair formed with branches that twined together high above his head. He had a wooden cup pressed to his lips, and he looked up at me in surprise as I approached.
I glanced around. If Rinakin was secretly a prisoner, they might be recording and monitoring him rather than posting obvious guards. I put a finger to my ear. Are they listening? I mouthed.
Rinakin shook his head and set down his cup. “We’re safe here,” he said. “Alanik, I’m so glad you’ve come back.”
“I can take you out of here,” I said. “I got rid of the other cytonics.”
“It isn’t safe,” Rinakin said. “Alanik, I’ve learned so much since I’ve been here. There isn’t time to explain, but you’re in terrible danger.”
Obviously. We were both in danger. “You need to come with me,” I said. “I’ll explain everything, but let me take you out of here before the Superiority realizes I’m here.”
“That’s just it,” Rinakin said. “You have to come with me. I have a ship we can use. I’ll tell you everything on the way.”
I blinked at him. Had he used the exact line on me that I’d used on him? And why didn’t he seem at all concerned about whether or not I’d rescued his family? “I really think we should have this conversation somewhere else.”
“Of course. As I said, I have a ship—”
Hairs rose on the back of my neck. Something was wrong here. “Rinakin,” I said. “Where did I go when I left?”
“What?” Rinakin said.
“Where did I go?” I asked. “When I left here. Where did you tell me to go?”
“You went to get fighters, and you brought them to rescue our allies at Hollow,” he said. “I heard all about it. You’ve done very well.”
“Okay,” I said. “Where’d I get the allies, Rinakin?”
“Alanik,” Rinakin said. “Time is of the essence—”
“I know,” I said. “So tell me where you told me to go when we last spoke.”
Rinakin sighed, and then he moved one of his hands to a device on his wrist. I took a step back, afraid it might be a weapon.
But he simply depressed a button.
My cytonic senses abruptly stopped, like I’d gone instantly blind. I was lost, alone, isolated, unable to reach out for the company of the endlessness of everything. Rinakin had a taynix box here somewhere. He’d activated a cytonic inhibitor.
“You’re not Rinakin,” I said, mostly for the benefit of Arturo.
The person who was not Rinakin smiled.
