| |
Sally
“They’re holding hands!” James clapped her hands to her cheeks. “Is that supposed to be happening?”
She shot me a smile from across the lab, and I couldn’t help but smile back. Thank the stars for her cheerful optimism. Her running commentary was the only thing keeping me grounded right now. I’m sure if she weren’t here I would either run away or strangle Nimien again and run away after.
Nimien checked a small screen between the two chairs. Data scrawled down the pixels too fast for me to follow. “There isn’t exactly a handbook for this stuff. I have no idea.”
I choked on my own saliva. This, coming from the very reason the siblings had lost their past? Nimien deserved everything he got, this labyrinth prison and more. If I could meet the person who built it, I would kiss them with my whole heart.
He looked over at me, and I stared instead at Zander. Screw you, douchecanoe, he’s the only reason you’re not six feet under right now.
The door shut. He had left.
“So, he’s the guy?” asked James, putting her hands on her hips as she stepped up on the raised platform to examine Blayde. The siblings were still holding hands, but their faces were still the blank slate they had been when they’d been put under just ten minutes ago.
“He is,” I replied. “Or was, if you believe what he’s saying. That he’s redeemed or whatever.”
“And do you?”
“Not a chance,” I spat. “Once a monster, always a monster. No amount of centuries sitting in a mansion surrounded by gadgets will ever rehabilitate anyone.”
James now turned to me, dropping her voice low. “I don’t think they’d allow themselves to be this vulnerable if he can’t be trusted.”
“They’re desperate,” I said. “They’ve been looking for home for longer than they can remember—literally. And if that can help them, help us, defeat the Dread... it’s probably worth the risk. Especially since we’re here as backup.”
“Right,” said James, “backup against an immortal and his daughter who may or may not have planned this whole thing.”
“Maybe we need to give ourselves more credit?”
The door opened again, but this time it was Sidera coming in, another tray in hand. She beamed as she walked in, placing the spread on one of the counters.
“Tea, anyone?” she asked, holding up a silver teapot.
“No thanks,” said James.
“It’s not poisoned, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she said with a shrug. “Come on, I know you’re probably parched—you especially, Sally. How’s the heartbeat? Strong and steady?”
It felt a little too personal of a question, borderline insulting. Patronizing at the very least.
“Don’t worry,” she continued. “I know all about the threshold between mortality and immortality. Pocket universes really mess with you that way.”
“And you’re not affected?” I asked. Why the hell did I even open my mouth? I didn’t want to talk to her. She had shattered Zander’s sense of self with her lies.
“Nah, since I’m half-half,” she said, with a shrug. “It’s complicated and comes down to quantum entanglement, which... nope, by the looks on your faces you’re not familiar with it at all.”
“That’s the theory about the particles linked across distant spaces, right?” asked James. “Like, you can spin one way, and the other one has to match up no matter where it is?”
“That’s right,” said Sidera, eyes widening for a split second. “In a broad sense, our bodies are entangled with the universe. We are knotted in a way that cannot be undone. Every time our bodies deviate from the norm, the universe fights to put us back. We cannot be changed.”
“And we... what? Use this tangle to move around?” I scoffed.
“That’s pretty much the gist of it,” she said, sipping her tea. “We can make ourselves exist at any point in time and space where there are particles in existence. We simply tell those particles it’s time for them to match us, and voila. It removes the existence of duplicates by anchoring us to multiple points and—I’m losing you, aren’t I? I can show you the math behind it. It’s a thing of beauty.”
It did make one thing a little bit clearer: I needed to take my college credits, go back to university, and actually sit through a physics lecture rather than think up old Star Trek episodes while the prof droned on. Or maybe just find a civilization with technology for downloading textbooks right into your brain. It would save a lot on enrollment costs. At this rate, I’d need my entire immortality to pay off the inflation of those student loans.
“So inside this bubble universe, we’re cut off from those anchors?” I said, trying to seem as uninterested as possible. I didn’t want Sidera to have the pleasure of another win. “Which is why we can’t go anywhere, and the universe isn’t pushing us toward that base state.”
“Precisely,” she said.
“But in Nimien’s library, we were still immortal. That was a bubble universe, too, right?”
“That was a node,” she said, “At least, from what he’s told me. The way we’re connected to everywhere all at once but applied to a much larger structure. The architectural version of us, if you will. Would you seriously not like any tea? It’s very good. I picked it up on Granovia Prime. It’s a little moon with the most perfect lavender sky.”
“So Nimien really is dying,” I said.
Sidera’s face fell. I should have apologized, but I didn’t. She’d almost broken Zander, or at the very least been a whole new source of Trauma. With a capital T. I didn’t care.
“He is,” she replied. “The house has been keeping him alive, but... he hasn’t reset in almost two centuries now. His body is beginning to fail him. It won’t be long now.”
She stared down into her tea, taking a long and intentional sip.
“I just wish Desmond and he could make up before he passes, you know?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I meant what I said. He really did get lost. I haven’t been able to bring him home. I’m worried the day I do, there won’t be anyone here to welcome him anymore.”
I still said nothing. Zander and Blayde’s neutral expressions had turned to frowns, and I had been so tied up with Sidera I hadn’t even noticed. They weren’t even holding hands anymore.
“I just don’t get how you’re not mortal here, too,” said James, “if everyone gets cut off from the universe when they step into the labyrinth?”
“Because I was born in this bubble,” she said, shrugging. “Desmond and I are the only ones like us in the whole wide ‘verse. Dad’s connection anchored us outside, but being born in here meant we were connected to this place too. I can’t jump between them, though. Think of it as two different transit systems.”
“Oh,” said James, “So when you brought us to the labyrinth...”
“You were never meant to come along,” she said, “and I tried leaving you behind—I am sorry about that, truly—since the labyrinth only accepts teams of four, and I was planning on coming with you to guide you through the traps. But it seems you did all right on your own.”
“The robots helped us,” I said.
“I like those guys,” said Sidera. “I’ve been passing them philosophy books for years, trying to get them to shut up about murdering people and missing the mayhem and all.”
Nimien stepped back into the room, looking more exhausted than before. Every step was slow, agonizing. He said nothing except thank you as he took a cup from Sidera’s tray. He sipped at the tea, slurping loudly, staring at the floor the whole time.
“You should rest, Father,” said Sidera, placing a gentle hand under his cup. “Today has been taxing for you.”
“And miss my reckoning?” Nimien laughed. “Fat chance. This may be my only chance at atonement, child. I wouldn’t miss it for the universe.”
“I don’t know if they’ll forgive you that easily,” I said, standing and crossing my arms over my chest. No way would I be seated for this. “I don’t... I don’t even know where to start, Nimien.”
“Then don’t,” he said, “Let me say this again, truly and from the bottom of my heart, I am sorry. I am truly, incredibly sorry for what I did. I was young and angry, but it was not an excuse. I’ve spent multiple lifetimes trying to be a better man than I was back then. I am still learning.”
“I was a different girl back then too,” I spat. “And you changed that, you changed me. You forced me into your game just to take the life you thought you deserved—”
“And this is my reward,” he said, sweeping his arms wide.
“Your own universe,” I said. “Your own world. I’d say that’s rather generous.”
“An eternity to think about my mistakes,” he said. “To learn and grow from them. To become a better person, day by painstaking day.”
“Which is what you took from Zander and Blayde,” I growled. “You took their memories—of everything. Of home. Of every success and every failure. How can anyone grow when you remove their roots the second they grow long?”
Sidera frowned as he put down the teacup, stepping toward me. She kept her hand under his arm just in case.
“It was their choice,” he said, “Every time they came to my door, I asked if they were sure. They were in pain, Sally. Every time they came it was after another heartbreak, another weight they carried on their already broken backs. I didn’t do anything, just gave them the tools to do it themselves.”
“If you meant what you said about growth, then you would know that that’s not how you solve any of this. Ignorance cannot be bliss.”
“But it is a respite from pain,” he said. “Can’t you see that, Sally? You love them. Imagine seeing them suffer every single day from the role the universe forces them to play.”
“The universe doesn’t force us to do anything. We are cast in many roles in our lives. We can’t always decide what those roles will be, but we can choose what to do with them. They could have learned and changed, but you took away their chance at that. You took away their future.”
“No,” he said, “There are some traumas you can’t grow from, Sally. Sometimes, when you’re broken, you don’t come back stronger. You continue to exist, barely holding yourself together, prone to shattering. If you haven’t gone through that kind of trauma, than consider yourself privileged.” Nimien hung his head. “I was only trying to help them. To do better than I did before.”
“That’s all well and good,” I said, shaking. “But you didn’t.”
He turned away from me, staring instead at the siblings in the chairs. They were still frowning, their hands dangling limply by their sides.
“We’ll know what they think soon enough,” he said, “and they should be the ones to decide. I may have been an accomplice to their past choices, but they were always their choices. They never came asking me to change anything, only for a clean slate. Something I wished for day in and day out for centuries. Millenia even.”
He turned back to me. I had my hands crossed so tight over my chest they would have protected me from a nuclear blast. Even James was on the defensive, standing over Blayde like her own personal shield.
“Yes, maybe I do have something the siblings don’t,” said Nimien. “We might have all the time in the universe, but I’m the only one who got to taste it. I’m the only one who had to sit and watch it go by without being a part of it. I know what it feels like to see life pass by without me, and I know what it means to make every second of it count. I have a beautiful family. I made a difference in people’s lives.”
I wasn’t buying it. No matter how earnest he was, he was still the same man who had blown up my life and tried to ruin my friends.
“I tried to be good, Sally. I truly did,” he continued. “You can hate me all you want now; it does nothing to me. I don’t hate myself anymore. All the time I wasted on hating myself is time I will never get back. It’s because I love myself now and the future self I will become that I don’t dismiss who I once was. I grew from that rot, and even if you refuse to accept that, I will still do everything in my power to give you all everything you need.”
“So that we can go out and save the universe from a threat you don’t understand,” I said. “So that we can do all the dirty work for you.”
“I can’t leave the labyrinth. I will die in this house. Maybe tomorrow, maybe years from now, but there is no changing that. I will give you everything you need, whether or not you go and fight the Dread. Though if you don’t, I think you’ll have a lot less of the universe to enjoy. It’s your choice.”
I bit my tongue. I didn’t want to ally myself with this man, with this monster, but what choice did I have? He was our only lead. Our only resource. He checked the readings on the mind machine again, frowning, then looked back at me.
“If you refuse to believe I can be a better man today than I was yesterday,” he said, “then how will you accept Zander when he returns with the selves even he didn’t want to carry?”
Tears were rolling out of Blayde’s eyes now, sparkling in the sterile white lighting. James reached for her hand, then thought better of it, stuffing them both in her pockets. Nimien turned to her now.
“You should be careful, you know,” he said.
“Careful of what?” James asked, confused.
“Of them. I was like you, once, you know. A mortal by their side. It always ends in tears.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Think about it. First there was Sally. One week with them, and boom, she’s changed forever. Immortal. And there’s no going back.”
“But you—”
“Thousands of years, Felling.” He said with a sigh. “Thousands of years without jumping, and I still don’t know what I am. Which brings me to exhibit B. Me.”
“What about you?”
“Three days with them. Look at me now.”
“That doesn’t mean it will happen to me,” said James. “Two does not make a rule.”
“Trust me, when I ran the library, I read everything that came my way that had anything to do with them. One thing remained consistent: They never took anyone with them. They offered a new life somewhere else, but they moved on. No one travels with them. Not until Sally.”
“But we—”
“It started with her. It was a thank you that went wrong. Probably because Zander developed feelings. And then there was me. Poor, confused me. I was just a teenager; I was fifteen, for goodness sake. I asked them out of fear, and they took me out of pity. I died three days later on a planet millions of light-years from my own. That’s it. Three days was all it took. Three days, and they made me what I am now.”
“Because you set it in motion,” I spat. “What are you trying to do, Nimien? A minute ago, it was all about making things right for everyone—”
“I am. And that everyone includes Agent Felling here.”
“Then you should tell her how you set the dominos to fall,” I said. My arms were so tight now I could barely breathe. My mouth was dry enough for me to crave Sidera’s mystery tea. “How you did everything to put us on the Traveler before you set it up to crash on your homeworld.”
“What?” said James, taking a step back. “Oh, right, time travel. Your future self looking out for your past.”
“Yes,” said Nimien. “I won’t deny it; I set it all in motion. The same me who thought the universe was his to take. Who could see the universe in four dimensions before he knew what it meant. But I’ve thought long and hard about the cyclic nature of my childhood. What made me angry enough to try taking the universe by the horns? What set me off?”
He turned back to James. “I’m trying hard to grow past those feelings, but know this. Traveling with the siblings spells disaster. Quite literally, in at least half the languages I know.”
“Look, this is different,” James replied, shuffling uncomfortably. “I—”
“You’re still alive. Go home, Felling. Or you’ll be another heartbreak that they’ll wipe from their memories.”
“But—”
I could have strangled him. Here he was preaching about change, growth, and all that jazz, which I would have loved to hear over a podcast from someone who hadn’t tried to trap me for eternity, before turning around and quite literally in front of my face saying the opposite to someone I cared about.
Talk about insulting. Maybe I should strangle him again? Or maybe I should be the better person. Like he said, I could win in a dance battle against him any day.
But before I could say anything, some light screaming ruined the vibe.
Sidera appeared before us, dripping blood all over the Derzan-dammed carpet. Her arm was missing—wait, no, it was clutched in the other arm, and now she was trying to jam it back into place while her body already was trying to grow a new one. An axe hung off her hip covered in more blood that dripped down her white leggings.
Nimien flew a foot into the air.
“Darling dearest,” he said, biting his lip, “have we sprung another trap?”
“Worse,” she hissed. “I didn’t spring anything—Desmond did.”
Our host’s eyes flashed with so many emotions I couldn’t place them. Shock, relief, agony, confusion—just pick one already.
He settled on a solid gulp of resolve, reaching his hands forward to help Sidera to her feet.
“He’s found us, Father,” she said. “And he’s not here for a social call. I beheaded him once, but he brought an army. The labyrinth has fallen. He has us surrounded. We are doomed.”
