THE TRANSMISSION ENDED, and the display resumed showing their approach to the dwarf planet. Loshan Bastion sprawled over nearly a quarter of its surface. Though most of it remained shrouded in night, more of the bastion’s details grew clearer as they neared. Huge tentacular constructions radiated out from a massive central dome, spiraling and intersecting each other in a tangled swarm hundreds of kilometers across.
“What under the godsdamned rocks is happening?” Sabira turned away from the screen, shaking her head.
“Masters being masters,” Cal said. “Expecting us to fight each other for the privilege of doing whatever they want.”
“We were already fighting each other,” Zonte said.
“We hadn’t actually started fighting yet,” Sabira said.
“Not technically,” Zonte admitted. “But no way that wasn’t ending in a fight. We were just waiting to see who shot first.”
“And now this old man wants us to fight for him and his Final Masters.” Sabira pointed at the wall display. “Why though? That’s a lot of trouble to give a stranger your big gun.”
“A god-killing gun, according to him,” Gabriel added. “Certainly a planet killer. If we just saw what I think we saw, then this Godsfall is some kind of singularity canon. A black hole gun. But the amount of q-el it would take, and the power . . . Obviously, there’s more than what he’s telling us. And to be certain, he is Human. Though he didn’t look to be first diaspora.”
“No,” Sabira agreed. “He looked more like one of you.”
“Which means he must have traversed the Shattered Gates from the Constellation side,” Gabriel said.
“Maybe he really is Orion’s blood-father,” Cal suggested.
“Orion’s father or not,” Sabira said. “See me now, this is a trap.”
“A trap within a trap,” Zonte offered.
“If there really is a god-killing weapon, and that warseer gets it, we’ll never make it back to the Gates,” she said.
“Agreed.” Gabriel rubbed his palm over his scalp. “Looks like we have no choice but to play his game.”
“That’s why they call themselves Masters.” Cal threw up his hand to emphasize his point.
“Trap or not,” Sabira said, “we have to win.”
“And be ready for the trap to spring when we do,” Gabriel said.
“What if we don’t win?” Zonte paced a few steps away. “Not that I don’t believe either of you could do it, but we have to be ready. Playa, Dawn, the others, we have to keep them safe.”
“Which means if the warseer does get this weapon, we need to be deep godsdamned far from here before she has a chance to use it,” she said. But the warseer won’t be the only one trying to win.
“Which also means, we need the Shishiguchi operational as soon as possible,” Gabriel said. “If luck is with us at all, then Orion gave Torque lessons on how to pull off a miracle.”
On the wall display, the messy sprawl of Loshan Bastion slowly rotated toward daylight. The entire complex was a dark, amethystine purple. Shades of ochre and carnelian colored the rocky landscape it emerged from. No cloud formations hid the surface. If the dwarf planet had any atmosphere, it was sparse. In the distance, sluggish pools and lakes of deep teal caught the morning light. This cold little rock couldn’t have liquid water. Probably liquid gas.
“I’m guessing that is the bastion’s Hara.” Gabriel pointed at the central dome.
Smaller spirals became clearer as they grew closer. They extended out of the larger spirals in tight coils, intersecting with other spiral arms in a complex hatchwork of expanding arcs.
The Hizashi descended toward the dome as the Shishiguchi drifted east toward the dawn, and the talon drifted to the west and the fading night. Above them, a twinkling cascade of moon debris hurtled, tumbling end over end through the vacuum. For a wave of impending devastation, it was beautiful in the moment.
Even though this must be a trap, I have to risk it. After we get away from Zika, more will come hunting. I need to be able to defend us against anything the Holy Unity sends.
Yet, the presence of Grandfather Spear and Daggeira shadowed her thoughts. If the time came, could she kill one of her old family to keep them from killing one of her new?
With the Shishiguchi’s descent, the tug of the planet’s gravity pulled at her insides. The huge spirals cleaving to its rocky surface appeared less like buildings and more like something living. In the distance, the lowest of the Hizashi’s crimson rays docked with the zenith of the dome, and slowly sank into it, until only the upper half of the ship remained visible. On the far side of the dome, the Unity talon descended toward a smaller dome at the end of a spiral arm.
Gabriel strode quickly toward the door. “We’re going to need weapons.”
“Meet you there.” Sabira turned the opposite direction and climbed up a ladder tube to the next deck. Even though Orion had said the ship’s main functions were back online, considering what just happened, trusting the lifts seemed questionable.
One deck up, she ran to the cabin she shared with Torque. The small room had little in it other than two beds and a few storage units embedded in the walls. Sabira opened a thin drawer. Inside, a foam sheet held all that she had brought with her from the Holy Unity. She pulled out her utility belt and snapped it around her waist, then considered what else to take. There was a simple yellow and black stick of a deactivated palukai. This one had been her grandfather’s, until she had taken it from him in combat. The palukai was the weapon of the Servants. Better to leave it behind and take a Constellation gun.
Next to the stick lay two weapons she had taken from Pinnacle of the Zol-Ori, a gleaming curved nihkazza dagger and a small object bundled in her old tunic. Hidden within the bundle rested the yarist gem she had ripped from the Pinnacle’s armor, before she had driven that same blade through his skull. She should leave the gem behind, too, since it too was a weapon of the Servants, but snatched it up anyway. She dropped the bundle into a belt pouch and hurried back to join the others.
Sabira descended a ladder tube a few decks down to the heart of the Shishiguchi. Cracking sounds and raised voices greeted her. The bright red door to Orion’s pagoda chamber—the closest equivalent to a command bridge—stood open. Within, gray skies loomed over the rock garden. The pagoda, usually awash with color and light from the halo of nodes orbiting around it, now stood dimly in the chamber’s center. The nodes sat motionless on the ground. She spotted Torque kneeling on its front porch beneath swooping eaves, attempting to pry open the floor. Though she had reshaped her prosthetic forma hand into a small crowbar, Torque struggled to pull up the slats.
Sabira darted inside. The rock garden was no longer perfectly tended into concentric ripples around the larger boulders. Stones big and small lay scattered about. Beneath the simulated gray skies, the garden offered no serenity, only a muted drab chaos. Sabira bounded up the pagoda steps. The two fierce-looking statues on either side of the stairs didn’t turn to watch.
“Here, let me help.” Sabira knelt in front of her friend and dug her fingers into the small gap Torque’s crowbar hand had opened. “On the count of three, pry as hard as you can.”
After a series of loud cracks and pops, the slat finally tore away. Underneath lay a terrain of wires and circuitry and lights. Sabira hoped Torque knew what to do with it all, because she sure didn’t. Toque closed her eyes in concentration and transformed her prosthetic hand into an array of different tools.
“Don’t know how to help Orion, not directly.” Torque lowered her face into the opening. “He keeps backup NACs in different buffers. If I can get one of them out, he can tell me what to do with the rest. Maybe. That’s what my plan is.”
“NACs?”
“His mind copies.”
“Right.” Orion had tried before to explain all his different minds and bodies syncing together. Sabira hadn’t really understood what he’d been talking about. “If anybody can help Orion, it’s you.”
Sabira stood and entered the pagoda. In its center, Orion’s naked body floated in a vat of pink gel. Though he claimed to have many minds and many bodies, he had a first of each, and to Sabira that first iteration was the one that truly counted. Though Orion probably wouldn’t admit it, she guessed he ultimately felt the same.
Nothing moved inside the big cylindrical vat. Not the long black spikes of his floating hair. Not a single twitch of his light brass skin. Last time she had been here, the vat’s glowing pink gel sparkled with activity. Now it was thick and dull. She placed her palm on the vat, directly in the center of the wide blue crest decorating its surface, an open flower inside a thick circle.
“Is he . . .” Sabira swallowed. “Is he still alive?”
“Think so,” Torque answered, her head and hands buried in the floor. “That’s his interface with the ship. Helps him to spin off and re-integrate all those NACs of his. And all those minds work together with a whole array of nodes. Not supposed to shut off like that, though. None of this is how it’s supposed to be, that’s what I have to say about it.”
Godsdamned right, none of this is how it’s supposed to be. But here we are.
“Please be alive,” Sabira whispered. “We need you.”
She hurried out of the pagoda and headed for the weapons locker.