Somewhere between getting Cannon and Sebastian settled down in the archives, and sitting exhausted at a bench Vera conveniently created for her, Mercy decided there was one way she could try to help Sebastian. If she could do nothing else while they waited down here, maybe she could at least accomplish that.
She finished the water Vera had brought to her, and tried to rest, closing her eyes and stretching out on the bench. It was a hard surface, but she didn’t care at this point as long as she was lying down. This hellish day had started far too long ago. She tried to think how many hours it had been since they’d left the ship.
She had no idea. More than twenty, less than thirty. That was as close as she could muster. And in that time, she’d had a tiny cup of coffee, and water. She thought longingly of the nutritional bars still in her pack, wherever it was. And who would ever have thought she’d crave those disgusting things? But right now she would have happily taken a nutritional bar. Instead, she drank enough water to make her stomach think it was full, and thought about what she was going to try.
She needed Lilith. Her grandmother would have helped her, if she could. For Sebastian, Lilith would forgo her usually sarcasm and nagging, and she would help.
“I’m going to wake him up,” she said aloud. Her words rang with a conviction she didn’t feel. She knew nothing about comas. But she thought she could reach Sebastian. She’d questioned Vera, and the AI didn’t think it would prove harmful for Mercy to try.
Here, surrounded by technology, she’d hoped for a few moments that he might respond somehow, that his Talent would reach out for something familiar. But nothing had happened. Yet.
Mercy just needed to give him a nudge.
She tried to settle her mind. Even when she was connected with Lilith, this was never easy. The only way it might work was if she fell asleep, or Lilith pulled her across. Sleep was proving elusive.
“Vera?”
“Yes, Mercy?”
“Is there a way you can, I don’t know, help me sleep or knock me out?”
“I am not a medical unit. I do not have the ability to make you sleep.”
Disappointing. “And what about knocking me unconscious?”
“The only methods open to me would prove dangerous to your health. I could not control the amount of injury you received.”
Mercy huffed out a breath, one arm flung across her face as she stared up at the ceiling. It was quite far up. The shelves seemed to go on forever. Her eyes narrowed. She realized something. As far up as it was, it was nowhere close to as tall as the stairs that led down here.
“Vera, that ceiling does not extend all the way up to the floor above us.”
“No, it does not.”
Ah, the pedantic nature of an AI. “So what’s in between that floor and this one?”
“Some of the scholars preferred more comfortable working conditions. Many kept offices here, or even living quarters.”
“Living quarters? Like with beds and showers and kitchens?”
“Yes, but the food stores were depleted centuries ago. You will find nothing to extend your survival there.”
Mercy sat up. But it had beds. “Can you help me move Sebastian and Cannon there?”
“If you wish.”
“I do.”
Wearily, Mercy maneuvered Sebastian back onto the hover cart. Cannon no longer fit with him, being snowed in the stasis cube. But that had its advantages as well. One of Vera’s drones approached him and connected to the stasis controls, easily lifting him off the floor.
She made a mental note that Vera’s drones were strong.
Moving was good strategy. None of them had even realized the extra level existed when they were here before. If anyone did breach the Enclave, it would give them an extra layer of security.
A lift on the far end of the archives was the only entrance to the middle level. It was large enough to accommodate the cart, probably because scholars had loved taking boxes and stacks of hard copy with them. Mercy leaned against the wall as it took them up.
“Vera,” she said, staring at her own reflection in the translucent surface of the wall. “Will you tell me the instant someone breaches the door up above?”
“If you wish.”
“Good or bad, I want to know.”
“Good or bad?”
“You know, if it’s one of our group, someone else, or those creatures.” She hesitated. Vera had never seen Titus, Treon, Max, or Octavia. “Maybe don’t shoot them unless they’re aggressive, or until you’ve checked with me. There are people in our group you haven’t met yet.”
“As you wish, Mercy.”
Mother, she hoped they were all right.
The lift stopped, and Mercy pushed the hover cart out into a hallway. Doors lined either side.
“Any of these in particular?” she asked.
“Offices are on the right, living quarters on the left.”
Mercy moved down the hall past several doors before picking one. She didn’t want them to be in the first one off the lift. “Here,” she said. The door slid open.
It was much nicer than she’d imagined, especially given how long it had stood empty. Emptiness usually decayed things quicker. Then again, the Enclave had Vera keeping watch over it, her maintenance drones seeing to its care. The upstairs only looked aged and neglected. A trap to lure the unwary into range of those turrets.
The door opened up to a large room, the floor and walls made of more of that orturium. The floor had luxurious rugs covering it, seemingly no worse the wear for their age. A small desk and chair stood against one wall, a kitchenette against another, but the room was dominated by a bed. It looked so soft, Mercy wanted to run and jump on it like a little kid. It was even made up, and had a huge fluffy blanket and pillows that looked as soft as clouds.
A door led off to the right, to the bathing room she assumed, and beneath the bed were drawers. She crossed to and opened one. She was surprised to find clean clothes. Nothing fancy, but serviceable. Shirts, pants, underthings, all sized for a man. This room had belonged to someone, once. How had all of this survived all this time?
“This room looks like it was frozen in time,” she said.
“It was,” Vera said. “I have cared for the belongings in all of the rooms, prepared for the day when scholars would return here.” Her voice took on a sad note no AI should be able to exhibit. “But they never have.”
The AI appeared next to Mercy, looking around the room as though measuring it with her gaze. “The stasis cube will not fit comfortably in here with you. It would hinder your movements. Shall I put it in one of the other rooms?”
Mercy hesitated. Part of her balked at being separated from Cannon. But he was as safe as he could get inside that stasis field. “The room next door, please.”
“Of course. There is running water. Heat and cooling are voice activated. Can I assist you in anything else?”
Mercy took a deep breath. “Just let me know if anyone comes through the entrance upstairs.”
“I have said I will.” Was that a trace of annoyance in the AI’s voice?
“Thank you, Vera.”
“You are most welcome.” The AI vanished, effectively leaving Mercy alone.
With a sigh, Mercy began the painstaking process of removing the tattered remains of Sebastian’s clothing. They were filthy, and she’d rather not put him in the bed like that. She used the cloth Vera had given her and some of that running water to clean him better than she’d managed before, and then got him settled on one side of the thankfully large bed.
With no reserves left to draw upon, she crawled into bed beside him. It cushioned her in a cocoon of softness, and she let the wave of exhaustion fall over her. “Lights off.”
There were no windows. The room plunged into darkness, and Mercy allowed herself the luxury of closing her eyes. Sleep would be good, but she had a different goal in mind. A way she might reach Sebastian, and help him wake up.
As she drifted off, she thought of Lilith. She focused on her grandmother, on the space she occupied outside of the physical world. She prayed this would work.
The first thing Mercy noticed was the breeze on her face. She opened her eyes, expecting to see Lilith's house.
Instead, she stared out at ocean waves. Blue-green water glittered beneath a yellow sun that hung low in the sky. White froth tumbled over a black sand beach unlike anything she'd ever seen.
Her eyes watered as the wind whipped her hair around her face. No, this was wrong. Why was she here? She needed Lilith.
She turned in a circle, casting her gaze down an endless length of beach that stretched into the distance in either direction. Cliffs rose behind her, intimidating and seemingly impassable.
She was the only soul here. No one walked the beach. No one surfed its waves. She could smell the salt in the air. She heard the distinctive cries of gulls, and looked up to find birds winging in the air currents above. But there were no people.
"This is not helpful,” she said aloud. The wind tore the words away as soon as she spoke them. It had picked up in the short time she’d stood here, becoming too intense, stinging where it touched her skin. Like a storm was gathering around her.
She closed her eyes, telling herself they were tearing up from the wind and not from frustration.
Lies.
Mother take it. Can nothing go right?
Alone here, she let her fear, her anger, her worry out in a long scream, lost to the sound of the ocean and carried away by the wind. She screamed her frustration at the waves, spreading her arms and running at them. Cold water rushed around her, swirling to her knees. The force of it nearly carried her off her feet.
It was a cold slap of reality, here in a place that was anything but real.
"I hate this cryptic nonsense,” she said. "If you have something to tell me, just say it.” She watched the water swirl around her feet, stirring the sand. She could see pearlescent glints of tiny bits of color in the black. Blue, green, white, yellow. It was beautiful, and she admired it even as she frowned, weary and sad.
"As you wish." The voice had her spinning around. She expected Lilith, hoped for Sebastian, even though a woman had spoken. She got neither. She stared at the woman standing behind her, struck mute.
It had been so long since she'd seen her, it took Mercy a few seconds to process it.
“M—mom?”
Pallas smiled, that crooked grin that was so achingly familiar. Her green eyes were just as Mercy remembered, bright and intelligent. “Hello, Mercy.”
“Mom.”
This couldn't be real. Could it? She hadn't dreamt of Pallas in since — since before coming back to the pirates. Since before meeting Reaper and finding Lilith. Since coming home. But it was unmistakably her. The face Mercy knew so well. That small frame that vibrated with constant energy. The long spill of dark hair down her back. She was young, no older than the day she’d disappeared.
"My darling girl." Pallas opened her arms, and without a thought Mercy moved into them, holding her mother and being held by her.
"How are you here?" Mercy asked after an eternity. She smelled like Pallas, the lavender scent she liked to use in her hair, and the citrus of her favorite soap.
“Haven't you figured out yet that all things are possible?” Pallas stroked Mercy's hair, her fingers lingering as Mercy pulled away.
“This doesn't make any sense.”
"It doesn't?"
“No. You're—” She took a deep breath. “You're dead.”
“Maybe physically. But I'm always with you, Mercy. Our memories never truly leave us."
"Is that what you are? A memory?"
"If you like." Pallas smiled mysteriously. "I am whatever you need me to be."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only answer I have for you."
"Fine. Then why? Why now? Why here?"
Pallas looked up. The sky was darkening. Clouds covered the sun, dark and heavy with rain. Mercy shivered as the air turned cold.
Pallas took one of her hands between hers. “You're in danger, Mercy. This is exactly what I tried to prevent when I took you and ran, all those years ago.”
“It is? What are you talking about?”
“It wasn’t only your grandmother I was worried about. Lilith was always going to make you a casualty in her obsession with this other Queen. I wouldn’t stand by and let it happen. And yet here you are, right back where I didn’t want you.” She brushed Mercy’s hair back from her face, holding the strands away when the wind would have whipped them back. “This storm will eat you whole. If you had only stayed hidden.”
“Mom.” Mercy’s heart broke at the sadness in her mother’s eyes. She didn’t speak for a moment as her world shifted beneath her feet. For a second, she even thought the sand was moving. But no. It was just everything she’d ever believed about her mother.
Carefully, she reached up and took Pallas’s hand in her own, squeezing it tight. “It wouldn’t matter. Fareena is going to take control of this galaxy whether I’m Queen or not. The difference is, with me we may have a fighting chance.”
“That’s Lilith talking.”
“No. It’s me. I’m telling you, I have to do this. I’m not the kind of person that can stand by and watch as other people, as my family is destroyed. I can’t do nothing just so I stay safe.”
“Then you’re going into the heart of the storm,” Pallas said. Her face looked pale and stricken. She was afraid, Mercy realized. In everything they had done together, in all of the running, she had never before seen the emotion on her mother’s face. “It will rip you apart.”
“Maybe. But I plan on being strong when I go in. I’ll have family and friends beside me. My consorts. I have no intention of letting Fareena win.”
“Silly girl. You don’t go into a storm to survive it. You take refuge.”
Mercy dropped her mother’s hand and stepped back. “I’m not going to do that. I’m not a child anymore, Mom. And I’m done running.”
Mercy wrapped her arms around herself. The wind tugged at her clothes, at her hair, at her words. She had to yell now to be heard over it. Cold rain began pelting down, fat drops hitting them. “I will fight for what I have. I’m sorry if that disappoints you.”
The storm fell upon them, and whatever words Pallas spoke were lost in the maelstrom. Mercy reached for her, but it was too late. The wind and rain pounded the beach, building waves into a frenzy. Darkness descended as the sun disappeared completely behind clouds, and with it, the beach seemed to swallow Pallas up whole. Mercy had a last glimpse of her mother’s face, her hair wild around it, and then she was gone.
She screamed. No, she would not lose her again!
And then she heard her mother’s voice as a whisper in her ear. Mercy, if you’re going to win, you have to be more. You play at being Queen without ruling. The time for that is past. Wake up.
The waves rose in a wall of water. Mercy turned as it towered above her. There was nowhere to go. It crested, and the water crashed down. The beach vanished.
She woke.