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Chapter Seven




“And then there were two,” Aiko-One intoned, standing beside Nathan as they inspected her own perforated body on the workbench, its chest and head blown open from the inside by exploding rounds.

“Anything we can salvage from this mess?” Nathan asked.

“Most of the limbs are still good, so I might be able to fix up Six a bit more, but as a full body?” She shook her head. “No way.”

“Then we just keep it around for spare parts?”

“That’s about all it’s good for. The worst part is the computronium in the head is damaged.”

“Wonderful.” The head was the most expensive part. “Were you able to pull any memories?”

“A few, and they integrated just fine even if some were a little fuzzy. The part where they shot me in cold blood was crystal clear, though. I’m glad we took those goons out.”

“Me, too.” Nathan leaned back against the wall. “I’m sorry, Aiko.”

“What for?”

“This.” He gestured to the remains of her Number Two body. “I know you’ve been pining for new bodies, but I seem to be taking us in the opposite direction, and I can’t help but feel a little sorry about that.”

“Don’t be. Hell, if anyone’s at fault, it’s me for letting that green lump get the drop on me.”

“I know, but still.” He shrugged, not sure what else to say.

“This is just part of the toll we pay in this business. And better me paying it than you. Though, I will say one thing: We’re getting to the point where we could really use an extra pair of hands to help run the ship. It might be time for us to seriously put out some feelers for additional crew.”

“Maybe you’re right. Any thoughts along those lines?”

“I don’t know. That nekoan didn’t seem so bad. From what we saw, she’s a better pilot than both of us, and she can certainly hold her own in a scrap.”

“She steals spaceships!”

“Only once. And that crew had it coming.”

“I—” He paused, then sighed. “Okay, fair point. They absolutely had it coming. But I’m not about to—”

Nathan’s commect chimed, and he keyed it to speaker.

“Go ahead.”

“Incoming call for you, boss,” Aiko-Six reported. “It’s Joshua Cotton again.”

“Cotton? What the hell does he want? We already let his friend go.”

“Don’t know. Want me to grill him for you?”

“No, I’ll talk to him myself. Forward the call to me.”

“Will do.”

The commect chimed again.

“Captain Kade?” Cotton asked.

“Speaking.”

“This is Joshua Cotton.”

“Yes, I know,” he replied pointedly. “What do you want?”

“I have a job offer I’d like to discuss with you.”

Nathan glanced over to Aiko, who rubbed her hands together and whispered, “Pentatech moolah.”

“What sort of job?” Nathan asked.

“I would prefer to discuss the details with you in person, if you don’t mind. Recent events have made it . . . shall we say, abundantly clear there are other interested parties. I’d be happy to meet you aboard your ship in, say, half an hour? Would that work for you?”

“Sure, but you come alone and unarmed. I’m not in the mood for surprises.”

“I understand your position, Captain, though the job would be easier to discuss if both of us were in attendance.”

“Both of you? You mean Vessani?”

“That’s correct.”

Nathan grumbled under his breath, but Aiko gave him an eager thumbs-up.

“Fine,” he said at last, “but she’d better be on her best behavior.”

“That won’t be an issue, I assure you, Captain.”

“All right. We’ll see the two of you in half an hour.”

“We’ll be there.”


Aiko-One met their two guests outside the Neptune Belle’s starboard airlock. Vessani arrived armed, but she handed over her pistol and knife to Aiko and allowed herself to be searched, which turned up no additional weapons. It wasn’t exactly what they’d agreed, but Nathan could understand her being hesitant to stroll around Port Leverrier without some means of defense. Joshua, at least, arrived without any obvious weapons.

Aiko brought them through the airlock to the cargo hold where she and Nathan had unfolded a metal table and a set of chairs.

“Captain Kade.” Joshua extended his hand, which Nathan shook. “A pleasure to see you again.”

“Mr. Cotton,” Nathan replied neutrally, still unsure about the wisdom in dealing with this unusual pair. His instincts told him they were trouble, and he certainly had evidence now to back that up. But at the same time, he and Aiko didn’t have any pressing commitments; they’d finished their job for Bishton Medical Holdings, and their usual sources for work were running dry. The Almanac hadn’t posted any survey requests recently, and Aiko-One had checked in with the various government offices yesterday, only to find other parties had snatched up all the plum jobs.

We can find work if we really need to, Nathan told himself. But at the same time, what’s the harm in hearing these two out?

“All right,” Nathan said once they were all seated. “What kind of services are you looking for?”

“First, a warning,” Joshua said. “This won’t be a quick job. Nor will it be entirely safe.”

“Yeah, I’ve been getting that feeling. People seem willing to kill over it.”

“True enough, but I was referring to less mundane or human dangers. It’s impossible to say for certain, but there’s likely to be at least some measure of risk, some bumping against the unknown that could put you and your ship in danger.”

“As is often the case when humans meddle with pentatech.”

Joshua raised an eyebrow, then glanced to Vessani.

“I . . . may have mentioned the relic,” she confessed, and when Joshua said nothing, she added, “I was trying to convince him to let me go.”

“It didn’t work,” Nathan stated firmly.

“I see.” Joshua turned back to the captain. “Pentatech is indeed a part of the job, but before we go any further, I need to know if these sorts of risks are a deal-breaker for you.”

“They’re not. We’ll hear you out.”

“Wonderful.” Joshua smiled. “Then let’s get into the heart of it, shall we? The two of us do, indeed, have a promising lead on a pentatech artifact of some kind. What sort, we aren’t sure, but we believe it to be of significant size and power.”

“How big are we talking here?” Nathan asked.

“Unknown, but whatever the artifact is, it’s potent enough to affect other technology at a considerable distance. Vess?”

“I grew up in a low-tech society out in the Habitat Belt,” she began, leaning in. “There’s a relic on the habitat which my people have tended to for as long as we have historical records. We call it the Black Egg.”

“Then it’s this Black Egg we’re after?” Nathan asked.

“No.” Vessani shook her head. “By itself, the Black Egg is unremarkable. But Josh and I believe we can use it to find a treasure trove of pentatech that is quietly making its way through the Habitat Belt on its way to the inner system.”

Nathan nodded thoughtfully.

The Habitat Belt was home to hundreds of thousands of megastructures, and even the smaller ones often contained millions of square kilometers of habitable lands. A blind search of the Belt to locate this Black Egg was completely unfeasible.

But if Vessani knew which habitat to start on . . . 

And if the Black Egg could lead people to pentatech treasures . . . 

“I can see why people are trying to get their hands on you,” he told the nekoan.

“It could be worse than you realize.” Joshua gestured to Vessani. “We’re not sure what sparked Dirge’s interest; perhaps he overheard one of our conversations. Regardless, he’s less of a concern now that the police are involved. However, another problem has come to our attention. I’ve been in contact with a Saturnian scholar about our theories for some time now. A cleric by the name of Anterus vaan Kronya. He’s a former professor of mine, in fact.”

“A professor of yours? You have a Saturnian education?”

“I do, sir. Multiple engineering degrees,” Joshua said proudly, but then his expression turned grim. “Anterus helped me put the pieces of Vessani’s story together, but he’s recently gone dark. I’m not sure what happened to him, and I, unfortunately, have reason to fear the worst.”

“Could Dirge have gotten to him?” Nathan asked.

“Impossible. Anterus’s last message placed him in the Habitat Belt in the middle of a missionary excursion. The Dirge Company only has their one ship, and it’s here. They couldn’t be behind his disappearance.”

“Then someone else has gotten wind of your discovery.”

“That’s our conclusion as well.”

Nathan leaned back and crossed his arms, contemplating the mess he might be leaping into.

“Why us?” Aiko asked. “Surely, there are bigger, better equipped outfits to bring your work to.”

“True enough,” Joshua agreed. “But trust is a funny thing. Other captains and their crews may have solid reputations, but Vess has seen the two of you up close.”

“From the inside of a cell,” Nathan said.

“Where you treated her well. And, most importantly, refused to turn her over to Dirge for what I’m sure was a considerable sum.”

“I wasn’t going to say yes to an offer that slimy,” Nathan scoffed.

“Exactly!” Joshua said with a bright smile.

“You the one who got Vessani’s record cleared?”

“I did, sir. It seemed the easiest way to secure her quick release.” He smiled again. “The police were . . . accommodating.”

“I’ll bet.” Nathan sat forward. “Anything else you have to share about this job?”

“Not at the moment. We’ll have much more to discuss, should we enter into a formal contract.”

“Right.” Nathan nodded, considering what he knew about the job so far.

Pentatech was unpredictable and often dangerous stuff. Most of the Pentatheon’s creations had been made with humanity in mind, such as the deifactories, megastructures, and spaceship patterns. They were—more or less—safe for humans to be around and use, assuming those people had at least a modicum of common sense and technical understanding.

But pentatech was different.

It encompassed technology and devices created by the Pentatheon that they never intended for humans to touch because they were either too dangerous, too powerful, or both. He’d encountered examples of the stuff firsthand and had barely escaped with his life. Most pentatech had been destroyed during the Scourging of Heaven, which was probably a good thing. But that also meant what little remained commanded extravagant sums from buyers like the Union and Concord governments.

Activating pentatech was often a tricky proposition. Sometimes a cleric or Jovian—someone equipped with the right neural interface—could communicate with the ghostly remnants of whatever once controlled the technology. Other, braver souls who lacked deifactured neural implants could, for example, bypass the original control systems entirely (along with whatever safety features had been built in) and power up individual components.

That’s not something Nathan was willing to do without first running a very long cable and taking shelter in a bunker. And even then, he’d be sweating before he hit the button.

Risk versus reward, he thought. Both were present in abundance whenever pentatech was involved. The disappearance of Joshua’s professor was worrisome but not a dealbreaker. If everything Joshua and Vessani had shared was accurate—and he saw no reason to doubt them so far—then who besides Vessani could put them on the trail in the first place? Once they were underway, that was it. No one else could find this pentatech relic.

Which brought him finally to the question of the contract. The safest bet was to charge a flat rate for their services, accruing money daily as the job dragged out. But with a prize of this potential scope . . . 

“What would you say to a commission as payment?” Nathan asked. “A percentage of what we find instead of a more standard arrangement?”

“That sounds reasonable. What did you have in mind?”

“How about fifty percent?”

“Fifty?” Joshua squeaked, clearly taken aback.

“It’s either that or we talk about a per diem cost, which I’ll need a month’s worth up front, and it’s going to be higher than usual because of all the risks.”

“Then, at the end of the first month?”

“You either pay for another or we turn around.”

“Captain, I understand your position, but fifty seems excessive to me.”

“Perhaps, but pentatech should never be trifled with. Trust me, I know. I’ve seen the stuff go rogue in the worst possible ways. Hell, fifty is just enough for us to consider the job. I’m not agreeing to anything until Aiko and I have talked it over in private.”

“Well . . . umm . . .” Joshua turned to Vessani.

“It’s fine.” She placed a hand over his. “I’ve got a good feeling about these two.”

“I—” Joshua seemed to regain some of his composure as he turned back to Nathan. “All right. We’re willing to entertain a fifty-fifty split.”

“Good.” Nathan sat back and let out a long exhalation. He was almost ready to accept the work, but then a memory intruded upon his mind, unbidden and unwelcome yet as vivid as reality. For a split second, he was sixteen again, fleeing from a vast monster he couldn’t see, could only hear gnawing and gnashing its way toward him through a dark maze of metal. He carried his unconscious mother on his back, her arms looped around him, her head slumped against his shoulder. His muscles burned from the exertion, but a duality of fear and purpose drove him, pushed him to put one foot ahead of the other despite the agonizing cries behind him.

Of people melting.

Dissolving.

Changing.

He blinked his way back to the present and shook the dark thoughts aside.

“Give us some time to talk it over,” he told Joshua. “We’ll get in touch with you tomorrow with our answer.”


Nathan parked the rental car in the visitor lot of the Pentatheon Church’s Home for the Lost, an asylum built on the outskirts of Dexamene City. He climbed out of the vehicle, picked up the flowers on the passenger seat, then locked and closed the car door.

He paused and glanced back to Port Leverrier and the immense walls of its wide plateau. The trio of deifactories rose tall and proud from the city center and the distant lights of spaceships and aircraft twinkled through the air. It had taken him almost three hours to reach the Leverrier suburbs of Dexamene City, which spread like fat arteries through the farmlands to the south.

The Home for the Lost was a three-story, white-walled, pentagonal building with welcoming gardens in full bloom. The strong scent of hyacinths filled him with a sense of nostalgia from his past visits. To the north, the Neptunian sun-wall had begun to dim on its way to nightfall, though Sol’s presence in the sky ensured it would only be a half night. At least at first.

Nathan proceeded through the open archway and checked in with the receptionist. He waited in the pentagonal lobby for several minutes and stared up at the reliefs depicting illuminations of the Guardian Deities.

Edencraft: architect of humanity’s homes throughout the solar system.

Pathfinder: explorer, gatherer, and the trailblazer behind star lifting.

Codex: tinkerer, keeper of knowledge, and digitizer of mentality.

Metatron: lord of society, order, and peace.

And finally, Divergence: master of life and modifier of the human form.

The reliefs represented the Pentatheon as absurdly tall humanoids, bestowing their gifts upon the worthy, which surely wasn’t accurate. What did godlike machines need arms and legs for when matter and energy had been their playthings?

A doctor came out to greet Nathan, probably from Saturn if her cybernetic hands and eyes were any indication.

“Hello, Mr. Kade. I’m Dr. Leshwa viin Dexamene.” She dipped her head toward him. “I understand you’re here to see your mother.”

“That’s right. I know it’s been a while, but . . .” He paused, then gave the doctor an apologetic shrug of the flowers in his arms. “How has she been?”

“More or less the same.” Leshwa consulted the vlass tablet in the crook of her arm. “Outwardly, there are no noticeable changes with Samantha’s behavior or health.”

“And on the inside?” Nathan asked with some trepidation.

“That’s a little more complex. We’ve detected a new nodule in her brain.” Leshwa showed him a series of diagrams on her tablet. “We’re not sure what it’s doing.”

“Have you tried to treat it?”

“We have.”

“Any luck?”

She shook her head. “Whatever it is, the nodule seems capable of nullifying standard panacea injections, somehow ordering the panacea to stand down and stay out of its way. We don’t know how it’s doing that, and we have no way of counteracting the effect. I’m afraid there’s not much we can do besides monitor, unless we decide to go in and take it out.”

“And if you have to?”

“Her chances of survival aren’t good. The nodules are deeply entwined with her brain, and we can’t use panacea to extract it. We’d have to perform the operation manually.”

“I see.” Nathan let out a slow exhale.

“However, I believe there’s reason for optimism. The pentatech in her head is clearly doing something, driving toward some goal we have yet to grasp, but it seems to be acting in an almost tender manner, careful not to cause damage. By comparison, the samples we’ve taken from her blood revert to an inert state, and nothing we’ve done has been able to reactivate them.”

“Be glad that’s the case.”

“We are careful with our research, Mr. Kade.”

“So was my father.”

Leshwa appeared ready to respond, but then seemed to think better of it and simply smiled at him.

“Of course.”

Nathan wasn’t surprised the doctors had removed samples of the residual pentatech in his mother’s blood. The fact that the Church doctors could study the contaminants was the reason he could keep her at the Home for the Lost indefinitely. Her care came free of charge.

“Would you like to see her now?”

“Please.”

Leshwa led him through a central courtyard and up a staircase to a room on the third floor at the back of the building. The plaque on the door read:

SAMANTHA KADE

PENTATECH EXPOSURE

BLOOD AND NEURAL CONTAMINATION

98% INERT, NOT CONTAGIOUS

“Please let me know if you need anything,” Leshwa said.

“I will. Thank you.”

The doctor dipped her head to him, then headed back toward the nearby stairs.

Nathan knocked on the door.

“Mom? It’s Nate. I’m coming in.” He waited a few moments for the response he knew wouldn’t come, more out of habitual politeness than anything else, then opened the door.

His mother sat in a chair by the open window, the drapes fluttering in a gentle breeze. A bowl of fresh fruit sat on a wooden stand beside her chair with orange peels and an apple core atop a used napkin.

She turned and smiled at him, which didn’t say much. She smiled at most everyone these days. But Nathan still felt a warm tingle spread within his chest as he smiled back.

“Hey, Mom.” He raised the bouquet in his hands. “I brought you some flowers.”

She turned back to the window.

“Give me a moment. Let me find a vase for these.”

He searched through the small kitchen’s cupboard until he found a glass large enough to serve as a vase. He filled it at the sink, added the bouquet of flowers to it, and set it by the window.

“There. How’s that?”

Samantha stared out the window, apparently unaware of the new flowers.

“They taking good care of you?”

He looked her over, checked her unresisting hands and wrists, didn’t find any signs of injuries or restraint. He made a slow sweep of the room. The bed was made, the bathroom was clean and well-stocked, and only a little bit of trash was in the waste can.

He didn’t have reason to believe she’d been mistreated, but inspecting the room helped put his mind at ease.

“Everything looks to be in order.” He sat down on the bedside next to her chair, but then took a harder look at her hair and frowned. “Got some tangles, there. Let me help you with that.”

He stepped into the bathroom, took a comb out of the drawer, and returned to his mother’s side.

“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” he said as he combed her long hair with slow, gentle strokes.

She didn’t respond, merely sat there, staring out the window.

“I got a job offer today. Seems like a good one. Decent client, at least if we’re going off first impressions. His friend?” He snorted. “I guess she’s okay, too. But there’s a problem.”

He paused mid-stroke, gripped her hair so that he wasn’t tugging on the roots, and worked through the tangle.

“The client wants us to go after something dangerous, which I’m not too keen on. Now, I know what you and Dad would say.” He let out a short laugh. “Especially Dad. He’d want to know why I was hesitating. He’d demand to know. Why wasn’t I already out there hunting for the stuff?

“But the truth is, I never shared his passion. His thirst. His never-ending quest to learn about the Pentatheon. It always seemed—I don’t know—narrow, maybe? There are so many bright, exciting, fascinating corners to the solar system. Why limit ourselves? Why focus on gods who’ve been dead for four thousand years when there’s so much else to see and do?

“I still remember the stories he’d share when I was young, how they’d fill me with awe. Make me yearn to grow up faster and get out there so I could experience the solar system for myself. I remember how excited I was to finally join the Belle’s crew, only to discover the reality of his work was . . . not quite as exciting as I’d imagined, and filled with so much tedium.

“But he didn’t see it that way. Where I might see random debris, he could puzzle out the clue to a past we still don’t understand. Every discovery was like the ancients were whispering to him, revealing their secrets one tantalizing hint at a time.

“A part of me knows I’m not made for that kind of life. I don’t have Dad’s singular focus, his passion for one topic. But at the same time, I feel like I’ve been betraying his memory, and maybe this job is a way to make some of that up. To honor his legacy, in some small way.”

His mother muttered something, her lips barely moving, and Nathan again paused mid-stroke. He set the comb down and knelt beside her.

“What was that?” he asked.

Her lips trembled with soft words, and this time he recognized them.

“‘Progress is not made in darkness,’” Nathan said, enunciating the quote from his father clearly. “‘We must shine a light on the past if we’re to understand where we came from and where we’re going.’”

His mother turned to him, and for the first time in over a decade, Nathan felt as if she were really looking at him. As if she knew her son knelt beside her.

“That’s right, Mom,” he choked, and a tear trickled out of one eye.



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