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“What do you mean, ex-spouse? Blayde was married? When? How?”
That Blayde could ever remain still enough to get married was impossibly far-fetched. Finding anyone who could keep up with her? Even more so. Maybe matrimony didn’t mean the same thing in the Sands as on Earth.
Zander stood up and brushed his knees. While he had finished paying his respects to his fallen jacket, the sadness on his face still lingered. “I have no idea. Still can’t remember.”
“Then how do you know he’s her ex?” I asked.
“They. And she told me.”
“When?”
“Right now.”
“Oh, with her eyebrows?”
He nodded. “She was brief, just ‘Used to be married; be nice.’”
I stared at Blayde across the sand where she was caressing Miro’s hands. They stared into her eyes in a way I’d never seen anyone do before. Since when could she sit still enough for soulful staring?
“Do you have that feeling she’s not telling us everything?” I asked.
“Well, there’s only so much you can say in two seconds of eyebrow twitching. That, and I’m pretty sure she doesn’t remember either.”
“It sure looks like she remembers them.”
“I don’t understand a thing anyone is saying,” said James. She marched up from the group, arms wrapped around her spandex body suit. “But their song is incredibly catchy and stuck in my head. ‘Please, can you step off my foot? Please, can you step off my foot?’”
Dang, we still needed to get James fitted with a translator.
Oblivious, she fixed her eyes on Blayde with the same look of confusion I assumed I had on my own face. “So, who’s this Miro guy, eh? And why is Blayde seducing him?”
“They’re her ex-spouse,” I said. “Apparently.”
James’s face snapped back on us, mouth wide.
“Spouse?” she squeaked.
“Ex-spouse,” said Zander. “It’s complicated, and that’s all I know.”
“This is weird. Do you think it was an amicable split? Wow, hand on the chest. Does she have a thing for chest hair?”
“Oh, come on,” he said. “They believed she was...I dunno, ascended for seven years. Let them reconnect.”
“She’s not going to waste time, is she?” said James. “We’ve got places to be, some strange, entire-universe-encapsulating-doom to stop. This isn’t the time for reconnecting with old beaus.”
“I hate to say this, but I agree,” I said. “As much as I’m thrilled Blayde has a lead on her past, we need to get back to tracking down the Dread.”
“Do you feel the Dread here?” asked Zander. “No? Exactly. This place is odd. Investigating with a guide is a hundred times better than nothing, even if they were once married to my sister.”
“Or maybe it’s just because we’re in the distant past pre-Dread?” I suggested. “We should go right away.”
Blayde appeared at James’s side, making her jump. “Miro’s invited us for dinner.”
Lovely how the universe listens to me. I heaved a heavy sigh. “We don’t have the time, Blayde. We need to get back to investigating the Dread.”
“Oh, Miro has all the answers. We’ll be going tomorrow.”
I practically choked on my own saliva. “Hold on, going where? Not the source of the—”
“No, of course not. Just the place with answers. Miro’s ancestors’ temple of some kind. I apparently went there during my initiation, though I can’t remember any of it.”
Of course. Because we couldn’t just ask Miro to explain, no.
Blayde spun on her heels, sending sand flying, and marched back to Miro. She was a natural here, her stride confident on the shifting sand, like she had been born and raised on this planet. She joined the others as they traded shriveled fish-like creatures and lengths of rope.
“I’m not sure I like this Miro.” James shuddered. “There’s something eerie about them.”
“Oh, right,” said Zander. “First hive mind, I take it? Just be polite. You’ll get used to it fast.”
“Hive mind? Like bees?” asked James since I was too busy gasping and choking on confusion to ask for myself.
“No, not like bees,” he scoffed. “And how do you know about the bees?”
“What do you mean? Earth has bees!”
“Earth has...” Zander shook his head. “Well, it had to happen eventually. You might need to start looking into investing in high-quality goggles. Anyway, no, not like bees. Bees are individuals with the same goal in mind. Miro is a hundred or so individuals with the same mind. They can act individually, but all parts are of the same whole. They’re just the same person, all at once.”
“And Blayde was married to them all?” I asked. “How does that even work?”
“Very carefully, I suppose.”
“Are they single now?”
“No, I think they’re many.”
He grinned a cheeky grin. Thanks, Zander. It was easier to process the strangeness of a hive mind when he was around making stupid jokes about them. I loved that about him. No matter how weird the universe got, he was always willing and eager to be my anchor.
“So, what happens when they’re away from their village?” James asked Zander. “Do the other... selves just fall asleep until Miro gets back?”
He cringed. “They’re people, Felling. They don’t have a range.”
“I get that,” said James. Her face reddened. “I just thought...”
“It’s an innocent question.” The body that Blayde had introduced to us, Miro Prime I suppose, joined us. “I am not a ‘we.’ My mind is simply balanced over multiple bodies.”
“No matter where I am in the universe,” said another, “my selves still think as one. I am just really good at multitasking.”
In unison, the selves gave an overly dramatic wink, which would have been funny if it didn’t clench my gut. Zander translated for James as she watched, hugging her middle tighter.
“Blayde tells me we need to take a detour before returning to the village,” said Miro Prime. “Have any of you flown on a madrags before?” We shook our heads. “Well, you’ll have to learn fast. There’s no other way to the temple.”
One of the selves handed Blayde a large, plump fish-like creature, as well as a sturdy rope that she wrapped around both hands, pulling it taut. In front of her, Miro Prime took a step into an empty patch of sand, leaning down to place the palm of their hand on the ground. Then, with swift, precise movements, they tossed their fish high into the air and jumped—just as a freaking pterodactyl burst from beneath their feet.
I’m proud I didn’t scream at the sight of it.
Just as it caught the fish in mid-air, Miro Prime deftly leapt onto its back, jamming the rope into its open mouth, and they were off, soaring into the air as one.
I would have been awed if I hadn’t realized what that meant for me.
“What is that?” James gasped, but before she could get an answer, Blayde grabbed her arm and dashed into the sand. She tossed the fish high, leaping in the air and grabbing her creature around the neck as it shot upward, forcing James to clamber up after her. James’s wide, wild eyes were the last thing I saw before they flew up after Miro, leaving me gaping on the ground.
Miro’s other selves tossed their fish-things in the air, swiftly roping their transport and riding their beasties into the sky. Individual parts of the same being working as one, like an octopus with its many legs—except if those legs weren’t connected to their body and each had a different face.
“I guess we’re flying,” said Zander, staring sadly at the coat he was leaving behind.
He wrapped the rope in his hands, and we stepped forward. Suddenly, my head was full of sounds—waves, voices, calls—and I could feel the soft thrum of life through my feet. The sand was conducting sound right through my bones. I could hear everything that moved beneath me, a beast passing in the depths, drilling through the sand like a bullet through its target.
The instant Zander threw the fish, our beast flew up and through the sand, right into Zander’s rope. I looped my arms around his waist and together we shot into the air, pressed against its rough, leathery hide. It rushed to catch up with the rest of the flock that was already so far ahead. The head, the beak, the neck, everything was long, as if stretched, leaving us like fleas hitching a ride on a dog. I ducked behind Zander’s back to avoid the wind.
I watched through narrowed eyes as the desert flashed beneath us, taking deep breaths to keep the ol’ vertigo at bay. Endless sand flew past us, unblemished by cities or roads. It was only broken by a hard border of blue. We had returned to the seaside.
We kept flying, the flock pulling us across the ocean, miles and miles and miles of emerald green. My nose burned with the musky scent of the water, salty and sweet at the same time. Until finally—land. A single freckle of it in an otherwise endless sea, just as flat as the rest.
In unison, the riders slipped the muzzles off their mounts. The creatures nosedived toward the island. Shit, they couldn’t be serious. Anxiety pulsed through my veins, and my stomach twisted into knots that even a Boy Scout couldn’t untangle. Zander shifted back, giving me more of his torso to cling to. But maybe it wasn’t fear that I felt. Maybe it was something else. Something more like elation was pulsing through me, like the beat of a living heart. Something powerful and old, as if it were there in hiding all along.
This was what it meant to feel alive.
I pulled my head away from the safety of Zander’s back, feeling the rush of wind in my face, and forced myself to embrace it. Blayde shot downward past us, hooting as she dove, her hair billowing like a multicolored flame flaring behind her and whipping at James’s face. Now we were falling after her with nothing but the wind to cradle us. It ripped my screams from my lips before they could burst into the world. We were gravity’s bitches, pulled toward the island like soap dropped in the shower.
Flash. I was back in Da-Duhui, falling down, down, down past the highway of cars, lost and getting farther from my anchor with every foot. Only this time I wasn’t falling through traffic but a flock. Flash. This time I was back in NYC, tumbling toward Central Park after yelling at Killian ambassadors who were trying to recover their lost ship. But I had a handle on that fear and clutched it, remembering how far I’ve come from the darkness there.
Blayde flung herself off her beast mere seconds before it dove into the sand. Zander did the same, pulling me off with him. We rolled in a tangled mess as we hit the ground. It felt like I had tried to squeeze into the tightest Spanx I owned. The shortest and wildest ride of my life, and I’d once ridden a tiger. I stared up at the brilliant blue sky, the weight of a million suns bearing down on my chest.
I’d done it. I’d landed. I was safe.
Well, safe on an island in the middle of the ocean with nothing—and certainly no temples—for miles around. I sat up and gazed out at the flat expanse of sea. Nope, still nothing. The island couldn’t have been more than a hundred meters in diameter. Miro had potentially taken us out here for some quiet murder. There certainly were enough of their selves to even the odds.
Zander hopped up on his feet, planting his arms on his hips, and scanned the horizon. James joined him, taking a similar pose.
“So, where do you think this temple is?” She reached an arm toward me, but I pushed it away, clambering up on my own.
“Still mad at you.” I brushed the sand from my new clothes. “But maybe it’s a metaphor?”
She groaned. “What, the temple is our own unfulfilled goals? Will that help us stop the Dread?”
“Pipe down, agent,” said Blayde. “You’ll scare it away.”
“Scare what? The temple?” I asked.
“It doesn’t like it when people talk behind its back,” she explained. “Now be polite. It won’t show unless we promise it some lovely company.”
I glanced over at Zander, but he didn’t elaborate on her vague mysticisms. Judging by how high his brows were raised, he was as confused as I was. “Is the temple... a person?”
“No,” she scoffed. “Why would it be? It just likes to party, that’s all.”
And speaking of party, that’s exactly what Miro was setting up for us. The temperature dropped dramatically as the sun began to set, but the otherworldly sunset made up for it. Two moons took its place in the sky, bright and white and friendly enough. Miro’s many selves had started a roaring campfire in the dead center of the island, surrounding it with mats for sitting. Some of the selves pulled out pieces of chopped-up Sven and started cooking him, while others were breaking out drinks and instruments. They worked fast, moving as one.
“Slash,” said one of them, leading Blayde toward Miro Prime. All their selves were grinning wildly as they watched her with soft eyes. “Tonight, we celebrate your return from the wilds.”
Blayde blushed, sitting down beside Miro Prime on the mat of honor. We followed close behind, the moderately welcomed relatives.
“We’ll have music! And drink! And a feast!” Miro Prime continued. “We’ll invite the temple to join in the celebration!”
Live music was provided by a band of Miros singing in perfect harmony. Selves carried leaves from mat to mat, topped high with what I’m pretty sure was roasted Sven. With nothing else to eat, I was forced to taste. He turned out to be tangy in a sweet-and-sour kind of way, fibrous like a carrot.
“Has anyone explained about the temple yet?” asked James. “As much as I’d love to party, we are on a mission here.”
I should have been the one saying that. I frowned into my Sven. And here I had been worried James would get side-tracked by alien life.
“I told you the temple only shows itself if the mood is right. So, loosen up and party a little!” Blayde handed her a waterskin, swishing it around provocatively. Miro Prime said nothing, watching her with soft eyes. “Have a drink or something. The success of this mission depends on it.”
Zander and I exchanged quick glances. The gist of it seemed to be that Blayde had indigestion, but that couldn’t be it, could it? Something was up with her, and it was more than meeting with Miro.
“You realize I’m not like you, right?” said James, raising an eyebrow. “I do get drunk.”
“All part of the temple summoning,” said Blayde. “But fine, you do you.”
“The temple doesn’t like it when you over imbibe,” said Miro Prime, but Blayde wasn’t listening. She guzzled down at least half of that waterskin without taking a breath. Her face flushed, but she went back for the second half, not breaking eye contact with James.
Zander ripped it from her hands. “That’s quite enough of that.”
“What?” Blayde’s face was now a deep crimson. “You said to loosen up.”
“No,” said James. “That was you.”
Blayde didn’t seem to hear her. “I’m loose. Oh, I’m way loose. Just you see how loose.”
“You should probably stop saying that,” I said. “Not sure it’s meaning what you want it to mean.”
“Don’t care!” She hopped to her feet. “Oh, a drum circle. Drum circles are fun. They’re loose. I’m loose.”
She ran into the circle of dancers without another look back. I stared at her, biting my lip. Where was the Blayde I knew? She had transformed into a full-fledged party animal, dancing so hard that soon she was alone on the makeshift dancefloor, clapping offbeat with the music and crying loud woos for the entire planet to hear. Her shirt didn’t last a minute.
“This is not good,” said Zander.
Maybe this booze was stronger than I gave it credit for. I’d only ever seen her fully drunk once before, and even in that state she’d singlehandedly fought massive cyborgs and we’d woken in an enemy jail. No more alien booze for me. But this seemed like more than just alcohol at play. Whatever was in that waterskin had brought out an entirely different side of her—and fast. Maybe she really did want to cut loose.
Or maybe...something about being around Miro was bringing this out of her. And it wasn’t just to summon some old temple. She reminded me of those days I’d thought I could just party the sad away, but what did she have to be sad about? Being here had made her emotionally vulnerable, and I had no idea what to do.
“I’m the frashing desert queen,” Blayde screamed as she hopped from foot to foot. Miro’s selves cheered, watching Blayde dance her drunken heart out. The band started playing faster, making her spin more wildly around the bonfire. Miro Prime clapped along with the music.
“Let her have her fun,” I said. “She can’t be the almighty Iron forever. Sometimes she’s just gotta...dance.”
“Not while she’s this drunk, though,” said Zander.
“Something’s wrong,” agreed Miro Prime. “She wasn’t like this before.”
“CONGA!” Blayde bellowed. She pranced around in a circle, hands on invisible hips in front of her. “Da-da-da-da-da, hey!”
Most definitely not Blayde. All this talk of needing to remember, but here she was drinking to forget. Or maybe she was trying to get back at me for getting in her way in the past. This was my first mission, after all. Did she want me to fail?
Zander sighed. “I’m putting an end to this before it goes too far.”
Miro Prime nodded slowly. “Maybe she needs to air her grievances through dance.”
“Is dancing the conga while singing the original Star Trek theme song really the best way for her to do that?” I asked, thoroughly impressed by Blayde’s vocal range.
Miro Prime raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Star Trek?”
“Earth entertainment,” I said, turning back to Zander. “Blayde knows Star Trek?”
“It’s not Star Trek,” he said. “It’s Kork’s theme on the Traveler—oh. He stole that, too, didn’t he?”
We watched her lead the dancers around the fire, laughing and singing. They seemed to truly love her. Then again, seeing as they were a hive mind, she technically had been in a relationship with all of them.
“Whatever this is, I’m going to be a good friend,” said James. She rushed to Blayde’s side, placed her hand on her waist, yelled a very loud “CONGA,” and joined in the dance.
Zander’s face fell into his hands. “This isn’t happening. Maybe I collapsed in the desert, and I’m hallucinating from heat stroke.”
“I thought we couldn’t get heat stroke,” I said.
“Don’t speak to me, imaginary Sally. Find help.”
“You’re not hallucinating. James is dancing the conga with drunk, shirtless Blayde. Oh, and a few of Miro’s selves. Who are also not wearing shirts. Now James has gotten rid of hers. Seriously, are these people allergic to shirts?”
“I can stop dancing,” said Miro, coolly. Despite their worry, it didn’t sound like they fully intended to stop. “But someone needs to talk to her gently. The temple won’t show if I kill the mood.”
“Just what I was planning on doing,” said Zander, slipping into the fold.
We watched Zander as he joined her, saying something incomprehensible at this distance.
“I’m the queen of interstellar diplomacy!” Blayde shouted, batting Zander away. “You cannot arrest me for bringing peace!”
And she rushed away, leading the conga line toward the bonfire. James followed behind her, whooping with glee.
“Is she...” Miro turned to me. “Is she and that James, are the two of them... are they romantically engaged with each other?”
“What?” I snorted. “Blayde and James? Never. You know, only a few hours ago, I had no idea she was even capable of meaningful, long-term commitments.”
The thought of them together hadn’t even occurred to me, and now that it had been suggested, it was the most ridiculous thing that my brain had ever conjured up. Blayde pulled away from the conga line, hopping and clapping like a cartoon kangaroo. The drunken chanting of the original Star Trek theme filled the air as the multi-person joined in. I clenched my fists. We had more important things to be doing.
“But they seem so...” Miro Prime shivered slightly despite the bonfire. “She cares for her. Last I saw Slash, she would cut loose through feats of strength. Part of her fierce charm, I guess, though her fierceness appears to be wavering. She seems to have lost something. Part of herself. Trust me, I know what that feels like.”
Zander had managed to get a word in again, and whatever it was, it made Blayde happy because he now ended up at the head of the conga line.
“Things were complicated when she left.” Miro Prime traced a circle in the sand with the tip of his finger. “I can understand how being back here could be difficult for her.”
I nodded. It seemed Blayde was remembering more than she let on, and maybe it wasn’t a good thing. But it didn’t excuse the way she was behaving. Not on my watch.
“Do you dance?” I asked Miro, trying to change the subject. If I had any doubt of their intimacy, it had evaporated right there. Blayde was still recovering from the events of the library but had been hiding it so well even I sometimes thought it was completely behind her. But you can’t just walk away from trauma. The fact Miro, too, could see her wavering was evidence they knew her better than most ever get the chance to.
“No.” Miro waved to the dancers. “As you can see, the creator gave some people feet to dance and others feet to fight. So goes the way of the universe.”
“Yet dancing feet and fighting feet may sometimes be one and the same.”
“You may be wiser than you appear, Sally.”
I blushed before it hit me that it wasn’t much of a compliment.
“But they’re all you. How are some of them better if you’re all the same?” I said, cringing at the awkwardness of my question. It wasn’t every day you could pick the mind of a hive mind.
“My mind is spread across every one of us, but each of my bodies is unique. I won’t bore you with the details of my division cycle, but each body has its own gifts. I’ve evolved into quite a skilled volleyball team, if I do say so myself.”
“I imagine there’s not much else to do on this planet,” I said. “If you’re the only person here and all. Doesn’t it get lonely?”
“Intensely,” they said, nodding vigorously. “There’s only so many times you can play rock-paper-scissors against yourself. And don’t get me started on poker. But I’ve been getting into music lately. Writing my own ballads. Do you want to hear?”
They gestured to the band, every single member turning to me and bursting into the same grin at once.
I wasn’t really in the mood for ballads, so I evaded his question with another. “Why do you stay? If you put everyone—I mean, all your selves—together, you could go anywhere.”
“It’s not that simple. We’re—and by we, I mean hive minds in general—we’re, by nature, incredibly territorial. Too many heads to butt heads with, not enough space. I’m what you might call an introvert. In any case, I must protect the temple. It’s essential for the future, though I can’t remember why.”
“So, the temple hides...unless there’s a party?”
“Well, if I’m partying, it knows it’s safe to come out.” They shrugged. “Though I’ve been a little distracted by Slash. Counted collectively, my selves have had too much to drink, and the temple won’t show if I’m entirely hungover. A few are taking this burden on their own.”
They indicated a pile of bodies off by the shore, rolling in the sand and singing so completely out of tune that the space between their notes could be a masterpiece. Ah, so the opposite of a designated driver: the multi-person booze sponges.
“You tricked me!” Blayde staggered over to our mat, hands on Zander’s hips as he led the conga line right to us. “You tricked me through dance!”
“Right.” Miro Prime clapped their hands together, grinning. “Ritual time!”
Zander helped Blayde to the mat next to Miro. James followed close behind, dropping heavy next to me. The second Blayde’s butt hit the mat, her eyes closed, and she dropped her head on James’s shoulder, promptly falling asleep. Thankfully Zander and I were still sober enough to follow.
“Ritual?” I asked.
“You never mentioned a ritual,” added Zander.
Miro took a deep breath. “What you first have to understand is no one other than me has ever entered the walls of my temple—except for Blayde.”
Zander lifted an eyebrow. “We don’t have to propose to anyone, do we?”
“No, I am granting you permission to enter at Blayde’s request,” they said. “You just have to understand it is deeply personal for me; the temple collects my memories. Even spread between all my selves, the brainpower necessary to hold every thought is too great. The temple is my chance to unburden.”
Zander let out a small breath, as did I. “So, what’s the ritual? If the temple shows because we’re partying...”
“Right,” said Miro Prime. “We need the other waterskin.”
They grabbed a full waterskin from their hip and took a long gulp and swished it around in their mouth before spitting back the contents. Their brows knotted together, their tongue lapping at their teeth. Whatever it was, it wasn’t tasty.
“Drink,” they ordered, handing Zander the waterskin.
“Not until you tell me what this is,” he said, cringing.
“Let me put it this way. Would you like to be eaten alive by the personification of the ocean?” When we didn’t answer, Miro lifted a bushy eyebrow. “I thought not. The temple opens only to me. We need to trick it into thinking you’re all my selves.”
I shuddered at the thought. For me, getting eaten alive could very well mean living a few centuries as an alien beast’s tapeworm. Not a thrilling concept. But between that and what was in the waterskin...
“But if this is just for us, how can it be a ritual?” I asked.
Miro’s grin grew impossibly wider. “Because it sounds more dramatic that way.”
“Blayde?” Zander gave her shoulder a little shake. “Come on, you have to drink this spit juice to cleanse you for a temple run tomorrow.”
“I don’t wanna,” said Blayde lazily. “I’ve had it before.”
“Come on. Drink up,” said Miro Prime, smiling with only the corners of their lips. Dang, they’d really missed her.
“Do I have to?” Blayde whined.
“Yep.” Zander shook the waterskin in front of her face. It sloshed around in the hide like thick cream. I bit down on my tongue to keep from gagging.
Zander kept the lip of the waterskin in Blayde’s mouth as she drank, her face contorting like she’d been hit by an invisible boxer.
“Was that a leg?” she asked, and Zander put his hand over her mouth to keep the liquid down before handing the waterskin to me.
I brought the lip to my mouth. The taste was worse than I imagined. Thick as honey but sour instead of sweet, it stuck to my mouth and throat like a dead toad that still wanted to live. I fought it all the way down.
“That’s it? We’re you?” I asked.
Miro shook their head. “Now, you spend the night buried in sand.”
“Can somebody translate?” asked James. “I was told to drink the spit juice. I drank the spit juice.”
“We gotta get buried in sand,” I said.
Miro nodded. “In order to convince the temple you’re one of my selves, you need your mind to be ready. Connected to all things. You disrobe and sleep in the drum sand, and you immerse yourself in the life of this world. Only when you understand that life may hide underneath what seems dead can you understand the nature of our history.”
“Let me get this straight,” I said. “To get information you could literally just tell us, I have to sleep buried in the sand, nude, and then make my way through a mysterious temple that may or may not kill me and my friends?”
“Hold up, did you say nude?” James’s brows furrowed.
“You got it,” said Miro cheerfully. “Trust me, the drink was the worst part. Now all you have to do is sleep while we party for the temple.”
“I’m off my planet for one day, and this is what I get?” James muttered. “A desert planet with things that want to kill me. Whatever happened to all those tropical paradises? When this is over, y’all are taking me to Naboo, not space Australia.”
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