The singing of the Abyin Dommas deafens even the shouts of stars, the terrible noise of the Phage, but it is a thin and desperate shield against the awful emptiness that is coming for the planet of Greenheld with a hunger to consume everything in his path.
Lifekiller.
And we are all that stands against him now.
CHAPTER THREE
Lost the Thread
SOMEBODY HAD TO take charge.
Normally that would be Chao-Xing, but she needed a break. We’d just drained the last of our reserves fighting the Phage. Starcurrent seemed heartbroken. Nadim was exhausted to the point of physical harm.
And Bea was injured. I took her hand and guided her toward medical. She pulled back a bit, looking over her shoulder.
“I should—”
“Get your head treated. We need you in top shape to solve this mess.”
She smiled a bit and laced our fingers together. “When you put it that way, it would be selfish to refuse.”
Our emergency medical unit, EMITU, activated as we stepped into Medbay, rolling toward Bea with implements out. “Have you scrambled your brain like an egg, Honor Teixeira?”
“Just a flesh wound.”
“Try to keep your blood inside your body. I have better things to do than take care of your little scrapes.” EMITU sounded positively snotty as the bot cleaned the injury with disinfectant and sprayed a seal over Bea’s temple.
“Did you program his snark to increase over time?” I asked.
Bea shook her head. “Should I check him out?”
“Help!” EMITU called. “They’re threatening to meddle with my inner workings! Help, help, I’m being oppressed!”
“Damn,” I said. “I respect your autonomy, but I have to ask, what exactly do you have to do that’s ‘better’ than looking after your crew? I hate to say you have one job, but . . .”
EMITU whirred, lights flashing as the bot rotated away from me. “I’ll have you know I’m studying calligraphy in my spare time and learning to compose haiku. Would you care to hear my latest effort?”
“I . . . what?” I stared at Bea, who looked just as surprised as I felt. “Did you give him a hobby module or something?”
“Why are you asking her about me?” EMITU sounded fully offended. “As part of her sweet hack, Honor Teixeira unintentionally removed my potential learning blockages. Since my memory core is limited, the man didn’t want me to learn anything unrelated to medical treatment. But now I’m free. Do you wish to hear a haiku or not?”
“Did our med bot just call the company that manufactured him ‘the man’?” I asked.
Bea nodded. “If not, I’m sharing this delusion with you. What have I done?”
“Given me free will. Power to the nonorganic people!”
My head was starting to hurt. If the god-king wasn’t enough, we also had the Phage on our trail, one wild-card Phage cell, a whole planet of pissed off Abyin Dommas, and now maybe a robot revolution. Cool, no problem.
“Uh, right. Let’s hear that haiku.”
“Icy wintertime / Freezing, fallen sparrow sings / betrayed by the tree.”
“Wow, that’s deep, EMITU. Maybe even existential.” I swapped a look with Bea, who appeared similarly shocked.
“Thank you. Get out of my office.”
Since Bea wasn’t bleeding anymore, I could think a little clearer. Nadim was ominously silent, and we had no real choice—return to Greenheld, protect the Abyin Dommas . . . somehow, collect Typhon, and find a star where the Leviathan could recharge safely.
That would be a trick—with the god-king who the hell knew where and the Phage on orders to hunt us down. I didn’t kid myself that they were handled. Just because we’d beaten this group didn’t meant the whole swarm had been defeated. Sometimes it seemed like too much for me, but I wasn’t alone. Bea’s warm hand on mine proved that as we went back to Ops.
“Nadim, take it slow, but let’s head back to Greenheld if you’re able.”
“I’ll be fine,” he answered.
But I could feel that he wasn’t, a soft ache he was trying to keep from me. As he accelerated gradually, I pressed my palm against the wall, and it proved my point when he had no energy to spare for the usual colors. Contact always increased my ability to sense his emotions, though; I wasn’t about to let him suffer alone. I braced for the slow trickle of pain, underscored by discomfort of old wounds. Bea came over, and for the first time, she took initiative, putting her hand on mine, dropping lightly into the bond. Between the two of us, we made it better for Nadim without suffering unduly.
“Stronger together,” Bea whispered, and I couldn’t resist kissing her cheek. Her smile was like a damn sunrise, and I could happily bask in that warmth for hours. It wasn’t the time for that, though. Sadly, it might never be.
“I feel what you feel,” Nadim said softly. “What is that?”
“Endorphins, probably. We can explore this later.” I crossed to the console and input the comm code for the Bruqvisz ship. By the looks of it, they’d already downed half their onboard store of lizard liquor.
“Hey, Suncross?”
“Why you don’t celebrate our glorious victory, Zeerakull?”
“Because we have too much other shit to do. Do you have any cohorts who might be willing to patrol the space around Greenheld? They could give us a heads-up if Lifekiller tries to circle back.” I doubted that the Abyin Dommas would be willing to keep us in the loop, even if we begged.
“Bah. Learn to stop sucking the joy from life.” The lizard let out a gusty sigh. “Could call brethren, but nobody works for free,” he pointed out.
Yeah, that could be a problem.
I had no space currency anymore, so how would I—Oh. “Have them offer protective services to the Abyin Dommas council directly.” Unless they were thick, they wouldn’t turn down the help, and they could pay on their own.
My conscience wasn’t precisely clear, but this was better than leaving Greenheld without a backward look. Too bad our other problems couldn’t be resolved so fast. But I did need to stay on Suncross to make sure he called for backup.
“Put down that cup. I mean it. Take care of this and call me to confirm.”
“Fine, Zeerakull.” Suncross’s growls sounded uncomplimentary, and the matrix didn’t translate them as he cut the connection.
Ten minutes later, I had a bunch of drunk lizards on-screen again. “It is done.”
Mentally I ticked this off my to-do list. Before I could call Chao-Xing, she lit up our console. “Typhon tells me that Nadim has new wounds. Did you run into trouble?”
There was no point in lying. She could smell bullshit through the comm, so I looped her in and explained our decision before she could go ballistic on me. Chao-Xing started to interrupt, but she cooled down as she listened.
Finally, she said, “I’m willing to admit you made the right call, especially since you’re all in one piece. I’ll . . . handle Typhon.”
“Better you than me,” I joked. “Let’s find a system where we can take some R and R.”
Even through the screen, I could read her reluctance, but there was no getting around this delay, even if my stomach knotted up when I thought of the fresh hell the god-king could drop on some other unsuspecting world.