“STAR FATHER’S BALLS! That is some godsdamned crazy grank shit.” Sabira stood, heart racing too fast to remain seated.
“Girl, come now,” said Coraz.
“I warned you,” said Derev.
“It’s alright,” said Gabriel, gesturing for calm. “Let her get it out.”
“I thought, oh Gods, I thought your people belonged to Trickster. Maybe like in the old stories. Trickster stole nameless from the Divine Masters and took them through the Gates before they were shattered. I thought that’s why you looked so different and acted so strange. Your people spent ages away from the Nahgak-Ri, separated from Will, separated from the very reason we existed. Thousands of years being warped by Trickster’s lies. Of course, you’ll be strange. But this . . .”
Maia stood beside Gabriel. “Sabira, I know what you have been told all your life. But the truth is the Theocrats did not create humanity to be part of some holy crusade. They were not commanded by all-powerful gods to bioengineer a slave race.”
“So . . . so what then? We just came out of nothing? For no reason? You think that’s supposed to make sense?”
“No, not from nothing,” Maia answered. “It is complicated to explain. But we did not come out of nothing. Humans are the children of Tierra, a rare and beautiful world. Humanity came out of a living planet. We were given life by life itself. A life the Theocrats have enslaved and corrupted for millennia.”
“For what, though? For what reason did this planet of yours make us?”
“Sabira,” answered Gabriel. “There are as many answers to the meaning of life as there are voices to question it.”
“This is grank shit. You really are sent by Trickster. What are you doing to us? You’re drugging us, filling our heads with crazy stories.” She felt as if the splinter spoke through her lips.
“I told you she wasn’t ready,” said Derev. “Now we’re all in danger.”
“That is not helpful right now.” Maia briefly closed her eyes, her jaw tight.
“Maybe he’s right, though,” said Dawn, protectively crossing her arms over her belly. “Maybe the lems should strap her down again. Just to be safe.”
“Don’t you dare,” warned Sabira. “Try it, and I’ll . . .”
“You’ll what?” asked Derev. “Kill us all? Dawn is right. I say we tie her up and leave her for the Vleez or Servants. Whoever gets there first. Or maybe Cal was right all along, and we should kill her now before she kills us. We are never, you see me, never going to be able to really trust her.”
“Derev, that is enough!” Gabriel commanded.
The aggie is right, the splinter whispered in the back of her mind. The Unity will return soon. There are no vleez left to stop you. Kill them all and wait it out in here till they return. Give the Warseers their heads, and they will cover you with glyphs and glory. You’ll make rank, no doubt. Maybe get your own crew.
Sabira’s sight went blurry with tears, her stomach felt tight and hot like she was about to vomit.
“Don't burst your capacity, Sabira,” said Orion. “It’s just a story. It’s all stories within stories within stories.”
Lies within lies, more like.
“Sabira, I know this was not what you expected.” Maia tentatively stepped toward her.
“Stop it, please. Stop it!” She recoiled back from Maia’s outstretched hand. “You’re always talking to me like I’m some little mine rat. I’ve chosen my shaft. I’ve earned my name, godsdammit. So stop talking to me like that.” Sabira felt the hot, sharp urge to punch Maia in her smug, lying face.
That’s right. Take control. Be the person they fear. Be the person you fought and bled and killed to be.
You shut up, too! she screamed inside her own head.
She backed away from them toward the hallway, tears flowing down her face, her throat too tight to speak, and ran to Daggeira’s room. When the door slid shut behind her, she collapsed onto the floor by the bed. Buried her face into her right palm as she reached up with her left to clasp Daggeira’s. Wanted badly for Daggs to clasp hers in return.
You can stay in here. Protect Daggs until the Servants return to finally unify this godsdamned planet. No one will ever know you lost faith. They’ll never know you almost betrayed everyone and everything you’ve ever known for a drug and an old hens’ tale. You’ll be a hero. You may even still make it into Heaven.
“Stop it,” she spoke aloud, tasted the salt of her tears, felt the knot tightening in her throat.
Sabira feared she couldn’t tell what was real anymore. Sometimes, back in the Labyrinth, somebody’s mind just broke, shattered into pieces. They’d talk to people that weren’t there or act erratically and aggressively with overseers. Sabira had seen it more than once. Eventually, overseers prodded the crazy diggers until their skin blackened and crisped off their bones, right in the middle of the warrens in front of everyone.
Is this what madness felt like, she wondered, a voice yelling inside your head that wasn’t your own?
How do you know it’s not your own voice? Who else would I be if I’m not you?
A soft tapping sound came from the door. “Jump down a shaft, Maia. Godsdammit.”
“It’s not Maia.”
“Torque?” Sabira recognized her voice and was shocked. Usually, the mech girl had barely looked up from her lessons on Constellation technology to even acknowledge Sabira was there.
“Can I come in?”
Sabira, somewhat stunned and confused, didn’t know what to answer, so didn’t respond at all. After a moment of silence, the door slid open. Torque walked in, wringing her hands, eyes darting from floor to Sabira to medtech to hands and around again. She sat down on the floor about a half meter from Sabira but sat perpendicular, facing the blank, light blue walls.
“I don’t think Gabriel’s going to kill you,” said Torque. “There’s that at least. Derev finally stopped talking. Gabriel scares him. Dawn keeps saying they should strap you down again.”
“Maybe she’s right.”
“I don’t think so, that’s what I have to say.”
Sabira rubbed away the tear streaks from her face, wiped the snot pooled at the tips of her nostrils onto the knee of her pants. “It’s all crazy grank shit, right?”
“Tierra? Could be grank shit, but it could be real,” said Torque. “It does kind of make sense, in its own kind of caved-in way.”
“I saw it. Everything she said, when I drank the eon last night.”
“I know. I saw it, too,” said Torque. “I see what everyone sees. If we drink eon together, I mean.”
“Really? But how could you?”
“I don’t know. I just do. That’s all I really have to say about that.”
“So you saw my visions last night? When I brought the eon to the nameless?”
“You freed them. And they tore down the domed palaces and pyramids. I saw it. Like I saw Rain’s brood-brothers. And the children of Zonte and Playa spreading out through the galaxy, outnumbering the stars. All of it.”
“How can you bear it? I feel like I’m going mad sometimes, from just my own visions. How doesn’t it break your head?”
Torque paused for a moment, closed her eyes. “The eon helps me understand a lot, about me I mean. Like there are parts of who I am that I never . . . But now that I know, I can start to see how they—I—fit together.” Her eyes opened and darted around the room again.
“Do you think it’s true, what the eon shows us?” Sabira rubbed at the scar across her chest.
“Maybe. I think so. At least sometimes. Or maybe it’s like something that could become true, or could not, depending on how we go.”
“So maybe I help destroy the Unity?”
“Maybe.”
“Then the planet with the blue sky, the place I saw, that’s really Tierra. That’s really where humans come from? Not Nahgohn-Za? Not the Divine Masters?”
Torque didn’t answer. She stared at the wall, rubbing her palms along the sides of her legs.
“Then what’s the godsdamned point if that’s true?” asked Sabira. “If the Gods are just more aliens and the Masters nothing more than thieves who stole our ancestors from their home, then what was it all for? With the Servants, in the Unity, I knew my place, I had a purpose. And now here they are, out of nowhere, telling me I need to reject all that I am. That the very purpose of my creation is a lie.”
To hell with this nonsense and whining. You are a Servant of Divine Will. That is your purpose and will always be your purpose, no matter what lies these strangers tell you. You could take Torque as your hostage. If they want to get to you and Daggeira, they’d be putting her at risk too. Just hold strong until the Servants return. Then you’ll know what’s true. Then you’ll be where you belong.
Torque stopped rubbing her hands on her thighs. “Maybe it doesn’t matter where we come from. Maybe it matters who we choose to be. Maybe. That’s what I have to say about that.”
Sabira examined the Mechs tattoo on Torque’s cheek, felt ashamed any part of herself ever considered hurting Torque, even for a moment.
“It’s so much,” Sabira said. “So much to try and understand, much less believe. And so weird. Part of me can’t help but believe this must all be some kind of plot by Trickster or the Monarchy or—I don’t know. Like this couldn’t possibly be real, so maybe it isn’t. Maybe it’s a trap? It’s easier to believe that it’s a trick than . . . than we come from the other side of the galaxy.”
“A trap doesn’t make sense. The Monarchy could have enslaved us or killed us or eaten us. But they brought us here. You were strapped down and knocked out for weeks. If they wanted you trapped, you already were. I think what makes the most sense, if you look at everything, is they want us to be free.”
“Free.” The word still felt odd to Sabira. Like a name from another language she hadn’t yet learned. “What the drilling hell does that even mean? Are we really free if we have to go back to their world? We won’t look like them or sound like them. We’re the ones who’ll be the aliens in their Constellation.”
“It can’t be worse than being nameless khvazol of the Nahgak-Ri.”
“I wasn’t nameless,” Sabira answered.
“Now, none of us are.” Torque dared to look at Sabira’s face for a quick moment before darting her eyes away.
“Stargazer? Is that you?”
The voice was weak, cracked, but Sabira recognized it immediately and jumped to her feet. Startled, Torque scuttled quickly away across the floor.
“Daggs! Daggs, yes it’s me.” Sabira still held her friend’s hand tight in her own, caressed her clammy scalp with the other. “We survived Daggs. We’re going to be fine.”
“I can’t move,” Daggeira rasped.
“You’re strapped down,” Sabira said. “Just for now.”
“Take them off.”
“I can’t, not yet.”
Behind her, Sabira heard the door slide open and Torque leave. Didn’t hear anyone come in before the door slid closed again. A bottle of nutrient water with an attached drinking straw had been kept by Daggeira’s bedside so it would be ready when she awoke. Sabira held the straw to her lips and told her to drink. Daggeira drank the whole bottle.
“Sabira, see me. You get me out of these straps. Now.”
“Daggs, I can’t. They won’t respond to me. Believe me, I tried plenty of times while you were sleeping.”
“Huh? What? How long?”
“Not exactly sure. About three weeks.”
“Where the hell are we?” Daggeira’s grip grew steadily tighter.
“Believe it or not, we made it to the target. That roof we hid on, that’s where the captured khvazol were being held. Here.”
“I thought we were . . .”
“I know. Me too. They saved us. Patched us up while we were in a coma. I woke up a few days ago.”
“Who? Wait. Who patched us up? The khvazol?”
“There’s a medic with them, but no it wasn’t ahn.”
“Then who? What?”
“I’m trying to figure that out myself.”
“Stargazer, see me. You are not making sense. Now come on, there has to be a way. Get these off me.”
“I can’t. They just took mine off yesterday.”
“Is it the Vleez? Is that why I’m strapped down? You don’t understand. I can’t stand it when—”
“I’m sorry, Daggs, you just got to tough it out. And stay calm. They won’t let you out unless you can prove they can trust you.”
“Allseer see me now, what the hell are you talking about?”
Looking at Daggeira, Sabira understood how the others must have seen her when she first woke. Eyes wide with fear and anger, unpredictable, potentially lethal at any moment. Derev still saw her this way, and Sabira couldn’t blame him. And she couldn’t help but wonder who else shared the opinion.
“When you were still a mine rat, back in Warrens Dreena, did you know about any of the unseen there having names for themselves and their brood?” asked Sabira.
“What does that have to do with you getting these off me right now?”
“After my Trickster’s Pit—that’s when I got my scar.” Reflexively she touched her wounded breast with her left hand. “They gave me a deep pretty pillow for my reward. I still think about him sometimes. He was so deep sweet. No one had ever kissed me like he did. Not until you.”
“Why are you telling me this? I don’t care about your old pillows.”
“He had a name. Can you imagine? His brood-mother gave it to him. Zaicha.”
“Like from the old hens’ tales?”
“Yes, exactly,” said Sabira. “His hen-mother had given names to all her brood-children. I thought maybe you might have heard about it? Maybe you knew him?”
“I . . . Yes, I had heard something about it,” said Daggeira. “Rumors that some of the khvazol in the warrens had turned from Will, dared to take names. But I never knew of anyone with a secret name. I did hear something about a big purge in Warrens Dreena after I shipped off, though. I had a guess it was about the names rumor.”
Sabira lowered her gaze, unable to look Daggeira in the eye any longer, and rubbed at her chest scar. “The next day, after my night with Zaicha, I said my last goodbyes to my brood-sister and transferred to the discipline warrens. I knew I had to go into discipline pure and perfectly aligned to Divine Will as I could be. I couldn’t go with that kind of blasphemy weighing on me.”
“You told the Overseers about the pillow.”
“I was devoted to Divine Will. I had to do as Will demanded. Just like you would if they unbound you. That’s why they can’t yet. But they will, I promise. Just like they did for me.”
“You don’t trust me, either, do you?”
“Daggs, I’ve been praying every day for you to wake up. I’ve missed you. Of course, I trust you. It’s just that . . . There’s so much I want to share with you. It rains here. Can you imagine? Falling out of the sky, just like Arrow told us. It’s real. I stood naked in the rain as the sun rose. It was the greatest moment of my life. When we’re free I want to hold you and kiss you in rain. It’ll be hard with the masks, but we can still try.”
“Have you been drinking too much diggers beer again?” Daggeira’s voice raised, and her hand clenched tighter around Sabira’s. “You’re not making any sense. I don’t like this. Not any of this.”
“Daggs, please, you have to trust me. Just stay calm and patient and—”
“Calm and patient? What under the rocks has gotten into you, Stargazer? See me, I’m getting sick and tired of this shit. Now get these off me or get the hell out of here.” Daggeira let go of Sabira’s hand, pushed it away as best she could with the fetters on her wrists.
“Daggs.”
“Do you even hear yourself? You’re talking like a traitor. What’s happened to you?”
She’s right. She can hear Trickster’s seeds in your words.
“I don’t know how to explain . . .” started Sabira.
“Forget it. I don’t want to hear your crazy grank shit. Just get out.”
“Please, just let me explain.” Sabira gently caressed the two glyphs on Daggeira’s left cheek. One for a victory, one for a name.
“Don’t touch me,” she said, pulling her face from Sabira’s hand. “Let me up, right now, or stay away from me.”
“I can’t.”
“Then get out.”
“I know it’s hard to understand, but I’m going to help you. We’re going to be free. Together.” Sabira wanted to reach out, touch her, hold her, kiss her, and let her know everything was going to be fine. She wanted to tell her they would have all the stars in the galaxy for themselves. They beat death together and they would beat this too. Together. But fear gripped her words, stopped her touch. Daggeira frightened her.
“I said get out.” Daggeira’s ice-blue eyes stared right at her, slit with fury. “Don’t you touch me. Just get out. Get out! GET OUT!”