14

BLOOD AND BONES

THE HOURS PASS in a tense but monotonous cycle—watch, drive, rest, repeat. I’m on the driving shift. Bass and I have paired off in the rotation, which Caden isn’t too thrilled about, but I don’t know how many times I can explain to him that Bass and I are just friends. He’s acting like a stupid, jealous teenager. And the truth is, being around Bass puts things into perspective. I’m focused. And I have to focus on what needs to be done if we’re going to survive—like figuring out what Cale meant with his cryptic message. What’s he planning? Who’s he working with? Who are his spies?

I try to calm my racing thoughts by focusing on the blacks and grays of the landscape sweeping by, highlighted with an occasional spark of scarlet where fissures in the planet’s surface have widened enough to display pools of molten lava. So far, most of what we’ve driven through has been deserted—all dust and cracked earth—a desert surface similar to the Outers, punctuated by grottos dark as pitch. Those are my least favorite—they make me feel claustrophobic. I’ve managed by day, but I’m not looking forward to moving through them at night, when things seem to get exponentially worse.

Caden commented earlier that the land reminded him of the bottom of the Grand Canyon, but was way less pretty. I’ d seen it once when I was chasing after my father, but I really hadn’t had the time to appreciate it. As the hovership maneuvers its way through a series of steeply sided canyons, I can see what he means, though.

I squint through the dashboard as a huge cliff comes into view, noticing a number of holes in its face. For a second, I wonder whether anyone lives there, and then shake my head. There’s no way anyone could survive out here. Without a dome moderating the volatile temperatures, it would be next to impossible. Then again, the rebels had been able to survive in the Peaks, and evolution is an amazing thing.

“You think anyone’s over there?” I ask Bass. “Humans, I mean?”

“Maybe.” He rises and squints, staring at the line of holes. “I don’t think I want to find out. I’ve heard stories of ultra-evolved apelike beasts that live in cliff burrows like those, and they’re definitely not friendly.”

I press a button on the console and scan for life forms as we pass. A sea of red dots fills my vision, confirming my suspicion that the holes are inhabited. Entering a command into the sleeve of my suit—my last functional Vector suit—I analyze the life form and run it against the database of known organisms. It’s close, but not human—something called a goraken. The image that pops up shows a large, muscular, blue creature with six arms and a distended jaw full of jagged teeth. The limited data says that they’re nocturnal and live in the dark, but have a keen sense of smell. They can track blood over a mile away. And Bass is right—they don’t look friendly.

“What do you think we’ll find down there?” Bass’s voice is quiet.

“In Avaria?”

“Yeah.”

I shake my head. “Not sure. From what Era said, it’s in the middle of a jungle. Caden—the Lord King—said that Cristobal told him it was one of the only similarities this world has with the Otherworld. He called it the Amazon. Apparently, it’s a protected rain forest. Can you imagine?”

“No.”

“Me, either. All we have is rock.”

“We had jungles once,” Bass says. “I read about them when I was growing up. All the historical records say that they were completely razed during the war. Way back when, this universe was as lush as that one.” He sighs, leaning back. “It’s so different, right? Their Earth and ours? You kind of have to wonder what splitting point in history made us veer toward artificial intelligence.” He eyes me. “You ever think about it? How many millions of parallel dimensions must be out there? And how it came to be that we found a backdoor between ours and theirs?”

“Sure.”

He laughs. “Seriously, why did we get all the self-educating, power-crazed androids, and they get to live happy, peaceful lives in a thriving paradise?”

“Luck of the draw, I guess.” I wouldn’t exist if I didn’t have cyborg technology in my DNA. But choosing between being a genetically engineered creature and living in a world untouched by machines is a no-brainer. Running water, grass, fresh air, and normal temperatures? I’ d choose it in a heartbeat. “Would you do it if you could? Evert and live there? Say if Danton comes up with an effective immunity booster?”

Bass shrugs. “Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t really fit in there.”

“You sure looked like you were fitting in when I met you in your beat-up truck. Plus I thought you were the master of adaptation and deception.”

Bass grins. “I meant inside. They’re too different. I don’t know how to explain.”

“Softer, you mean?”

He nods. “Indulged.”

“They just evolved differently. Their battles are different from ours.”

“Yeah, we fight for our lives, and they fight to win popularity contests, or to see who has the bigger house or faster car.” He shrugs. “Didn’t you go to high school there for a while?”

“I did. It was… interesting.”

“That’s an understatement.” Bass snorts. “They don’t even know how to defend themselves. They have enough to eat and roofs over their heads.”

For a second, I see a new side to Bass, but it’s not an unfamiliar one. I’ d felt the same way, once—judgy and superior. “Some do,” I say. “And some don’t. Poverty and hunger exist there, too. Civil and religious wars are rampant in parts. Androids aren’t the only power-crazed species. Humans can be, too.”

“I guess so.”

My mind drifts to Charisma. I’ d trusted her. At least, until my father got his hands on her and fed her a bucket of lies. Still, she’ d always helped others, including me when I’ d first arrived. “They’re not all bad.”

“If you say so.”

I laugh. “Well, there was this one girl, Sadie. She hated me with a passion and… you ready for this? She was Caden’s girlfriend.”

Bass’s eyes light up and I bite back a grin. It’s amusing how much he loves gossip. “So, that must have been fun,” he prods.

“There may have been a bathroom incident. Not one of my proudest moments.”

“What’ d you do?”

“She tried to push me into one of the stalls, so I flushed her a little,” I say defensively. Bass laughs so hard that he almost slides off his seat. I shake my head. “Stop, I’m serious. I feel really badly about that. No one, no matter how mean, deserves to be dunked in toilet water.”

He chuckles. “I’m sure she survived, and hey, I’ d take running water any way I could get it.”

“Speaking of running water, that’s what I miss most about being in the Otherworld,” I say with a sigh. “Showers… all that water. It was heaven.”

I watch the look of ecstasy on Bass’s face. I know exactly how he feels. The first time I’ d taken a shower in the Otherworld, I had no clue what to do. I’ d stepped in fully clothed and gotten drenched. I’ d sat on the stall floor for nearly an hour until the hot water started going cold and my skin had gotten all pruney.

“Did you ever go swimming?” I ask Bass.

“No. I always imagined what that would be like, but then I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Maybe I was afraid. Baby steps.”

“I know what you mean. I did find a great reservoir with Shae, though. If I ever get the chance, I’ d swim there. That was heaven.”

“I’m sorry about what happened with your sister,” Bass says quietly.

I swallow hard, heat pricking my eyelids. “Were you there? When my father… when Danton… when he…”

“Yes.” Bass doesn’t hesitate, and a part of me respects him for that.

“Thanks for being honest.”

“Riven, I—”

“I know it wasn’t you. None of that was your fault. You’re a pawn in all of this.”

Something flickers across Bass’s face, and he opens his mouth as if he’s going to say something more, then shuts it again. I’m grateful that he does—I don’t want his pity. Thinking about Shae brings a heaviness to the pit of my stomach, and thinking about what my father did to her makes me so furious that I can barely focus. I force myself to calm down, counting backward in my head, until my breaths are slow and even.

I don’t even notice that Bass has gotten up from his chair and is standing beside me, his arm around my shoulders. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you a hug?”

Suddenly, an odd desire to hug him back overcomes me. I blink, but my body does as commanded. Bass’s eyes snap to mine as his hands slide around me. It feels right and wrong at the same time, conflicting emotions racing through me.

You want this.

I don’t even know where the thought comes from, but it’s true. Somehow, I want Bass’s arms around me. I want more than that. I turn my face. He’s inches from mine, when I hear the gasp behind us.

“Get your filthy hands off her!” Caden lunges forward to slam Bass up against the wall of the cockpit, his forearm pressing into his windpipe.

“Caden, stop,” I scream. “You’re strangling him.”

Sauer and Arven rush in, pulling Caden off of Bass. “What’s going on?”

“Why don’t you ask his high holiness here?” Bass snarls, rubbing his throat. “Barging in where he isn’t wanted. Last I heard, you were going to Avaria to get married. I wasn’t doing anything she didn’t want.”

Caden’s pained look slides to me, and I swallow. “Everyone needs to mind their own business right now, and back the hell off.” I blink. Those weren’t the words I’ d been about to say. Even Sauer stares at me as I shove past him. “I need some air.”

Up top, someone comes through the hatch behind me. I don’t have to turn around to know that it’s Bass. Sauer would have rotated everyone out—kept order. Bass takes his spot beside me. “So, that was intense.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I inhale sharply. “I mean I do want you to know that that’s not going to happen again. I was confused.”

“Got it.”

“Look, I’m serious, what happened was—”

“Riven, we’re good. Forget about it.”

Relieved, I nod. I don’t know what came over me down there. One moment, Bass and I were chatting, and the next, I literally wanted to throw myself at him. I peek at him out of the corner of my eye, and cringe. I don’t even like Bass, not in that way. And the betrayed look on Caden’s face was devastating. But I’ d initiated the almost-kiss, there’s no denying that. The impulse had felt strange—like an order that I was compelled to follow. It didn’t make sense. I shrug it off and focus on my ninjatas.

“Are those Artok?” Bass asks after a while, eyeing the blades I’ve been swinging restlessly in my hands.

“Yes.”

“Nice.”

I’m grateful for the mundane subject change. “Where’ d you get your staff?” I nod at the weapon stored on his back. “The ends are dynamic, aren’t they?”

Bass grabs ahold of the ebony-colored rod and twirls it in his hands, extending it to full length with a slight press of his fingers. “Yes. I designed it.”

“Can I check it out?” He hands me the staff and I examine it. It’s made of a silky-smooth material that’s oddly responsive in my hands. “How do you make the weapons change?”

“Skin recognition—it’s linked to my fingerprints,” he explains, taking it from me. “A sequence of touches initiates a blade, or spikes, or a lance. Like this.”

His fingers move swiftly across the middle of the weapon’s midpoint and, suddenly, a wicked-looking curved blade—like a scimitar—appears at either end.

“Wow, that’s impressive.”

“That’s not all,” he says proudly. “If you, or any attacker, tried to take it from me, the staff has its own defensive response. It would cut your hand in half.”

I frown. “How come it didn’t before? When I held it?”

“Because I let you.” He grins. “It only engages defensive mode when it’s active.”

“Good to know.” I watch Bass compress the staff with a flick of his thumb and toss it over his back into its harness. It’s an interesting weapon, to be sure, and obviously built with cutting-edge technology. Bass had mentioned that he was good at robotics, so it makes sense that he’ d be able to design such an intricate piece of weaponry.

“We’re coming up to another canyon.” Sauer’s voice in our comms pieces makes both Bass and I sit up.

“Copy,” I say, straining to see in the encroaching darkness. I engage night vision on my visor and watch as the terrain comes into focus. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” I ask.

Bass exhales. “It’s deep.” Deeper than anything we’ve navigated before. And it’s narrow, with polluted toxic marshes on either side.

“We’re in the bone yard,” Sauer says. “We’ll have to go through.”

“What the hell is a bone yard?” I ask.

“It’s the Neck. The part that connects the two hemispheres,” Caden answers, his voice is hollow and distorted through the communications earpiece. Residual guilt leaps in my stomach, but I shove it away. “Like North and South America in the Otherworld.”

“It’s nothing good,” Sauer chimes in. “Get ready.”

“Why do you look so nervous?” I ask Bass, who’s priming his plasma gun.

“People who come to the bone yard disappear. It’s one of the reasons we knew nothing of Avaria. The bone yard’s a natural deterrent—few, if any, come out alive.”

Great. Not like we haven’t had enough of that crap storm already.

I follow Bass, getting my own cannon ready. Bass and I both have ours set to obliterate. We aren’t taking any chances—not with living or metal threats.

“On alert,” Sauer commands as we descend into the chasm.

I see where the canyon gets its moniker. Thick pillars of bone-white structures litter the chasm’s surface. Sauer has his job cut out for him, maneuvering the ship around them. Shivering slightly, I can’t decide if they look more like teeth or gravestones.

A shadow catches my eye and I look up just as a dark figure winks out of view.

“There’s something up there,” I mutter to Bass. My fingers are itching to get hold of my ninjatas. I’m far better at close range combat than I am with a gun, even one as powerful as this one. Bass looks up, but all that’s visible is a bloodred moon shimmering in the inky darkness. “There!” I say, pointing to one of the pillars. “Saw it again.”

“I don’t see anything.”

Homing in with the help of the nanobes, I zoom in on the top of the column, but nothing is there. I blink, and suddenly my vision is filled with a blur of something dark diving toward me. I pull back to normal mode, just as a stick-thin, wiry figure lands on the nose of the ship and sinks into a low crouch.

It’s covered in what looks like white paste, with fierce black eyes and a red, snarling mouth. Mismatched fur covers its body, but as far as I can tell there’s no metal. Not a Reptile—organic from the looks of it. The creature cocks its head, watching me for a second, before placing a lethal-looking dart into a pipe and bringing it to its lips. I can’t shoot the creature while it sits on the ship, so I grab my ninjatas. A slim dart flies out of the pipe, and I instinctively duck sideways, the spike missing my shoulder by an inch.

Protection, I tell the suit, feeling it harden around me. It’ll take more than a dart to get through the material.

“Riven, stay down!” Bass swings at the thing, but it leaps out of the way like a nimble monkey. “Where’ d it go?” he asks, peering over the side of the ship.

“It jumped.”

“Must be thirty feet to the ground.”

“What’s going on topside?” Sauer calls out on the comms. “There’s movement all over the place.”

“Something jumped on the ship,” Bass yells back. “It’s some kind of biped—only one. Where are you seeing movement?”

“All around us. I’m engaging the shield in five, so get down here. You are free to engage. I repeat, you are free to engage. Shoot to kill.”

“Bass,” I warn. A dozen more of the creatures climbed onto the hull, watching us with those same curious, birdlike motions. Bloodred markings are etched down the sides of their bodies. They each have a pipe—filled with the same projectiles the first one had shot at me—and they’re blocking our entrance to the hold.

“We can’t get past them.”

I raise my ninjatas. Bass and I position ourselves back-to-back with weapons at the ready. I engage my suit’s offensive mode and blink as it comes online. For a half second, I wish I were wearing the suit Danton gave me. But this one will do for now.

“There’re so many of them,” Bass says. “Where’ d they all come from?”

“Riven, Bass, report,” Sauer urges. “You’re on screen. What are those things?”

“Some kind of primate,” Bass says frowning.

“That’s not possible,” I say. How would they be able to survive outside at night? Unless they’ve evolved to deal with subzero temperatures. I glance down at the gauge on my suit panel to verify the numbers. I blink. The reading couldn’t possibly be correct. It’s nighttime—there’s no way it could be seventy-one degrees.

“Bass, what does your temp gauge say?”

His eyes widen. “Seventy degrees.”

“Sauer, do you copy? Do you show seventy degrees, too?”

“Correct,” he responds. “Must be the Neck. I’ve heard conditions are all over the place because of the equator. Huge lightning storms around these parts, too.”

That would explain our visitors’ lack of covering… well, except for the sparse fur around their torsos. I look up and exhale slowly. Creatures similar to the ones in front of us are covering every inch of the tops of the pillars. They are alert, watching us, as if ready to swarm at any second. What are they waiting for?

“Are you seeing this?” I say in a low voice. “Sauer, what do we do?”

Arven’s voice comes through the speaker. “I don’t see any option but to blast wide, but we risk damaging the ship if any of these pillars collapse. If we engage the shield with you two out there…” Arven trails off. He doesn’t have to explain what will happen once the shields kick in—anything touching the ship will incinerate in seconds. “You’ll have to shoot through them.”

“We can’t just kill them,” Caden breaks in. “I think they’re defending their territory. Can’t we stun them? Or freeze them?”

“One tried to shoot some kind of dart at Riven,” Bass returns. “If it’s a choice between them or us, I’m going to choose us. They engage, I engage. I don’t think they’re here to see us merrily on our way. There’s a reason no one ever makes it through the bone yard. Obviously, it’s these skinny white apes.”

One of the creatures straightens into a near-standing position. It has a Mohawk of red spines crowning its skull and holds a vicious-looking spear in its hand. I stare at Bass and shake my head. “I don’t think those things are primates. They look like…”

Static rushes in my earpiece. “Repeat, Riven.”

I squint, focusing the nanobes in my retinas to take a snapshot of the creature with the red spines. I hold my breath, processing the data through my brain and running it against the database of life forms I’ d accessed earlier. I blink at the response, and run it again. It’s a one hundred percent match.

“They’re not primates.”

“What?”

“Those things are as human as you are.”