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Chapter Eighteen




Vessani lent her father a shoulder. He braced himself with an arm around her neck, and together they rose to their feet.

“You all right?” she asked, supporting him with an arm around his waist.

“I will be, I’m sure.” He patted her hand and then shifted his weight onto his own two legs. He watched Rufus kneel next to another nekoan. “I can already feel the cleric’s medicine tingling through me.”

“Panacea’s great stuff, isn’t it?” she said, perhaps with too much levity, given the carnage around them. She thought her father might scold her for her light, unserious tone, but instead he faced her with worry in his eyes.

“Are you leaving?”

His question took her aback, and she felt her response catch in her throat. She frowned and nodded to him.

“So soon?” he asked.

“We need to follow that ship.”

“I know, but . . .” He trailed off, his eyes gravitating toward the pale ship’s shrinking dot. “Does it have to be right away?”

“You know it does.”

He lowered his head, then nodded slowly.

“It’s not like we’ve never said goodbye before,” she said.

“I know. And I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For not supporting your decision.”

“You let me go, didn’t you?”

“Not because I agreed with you.” He smiled sadly. “But because I knew you’d eventually find a way to leave regardless of what I wanted. The only way I could keep you here was to imprison you within your own home, and I could never do that.”

She replied with her own crooked smile. “Were you tempted?”

“A little. But in the end, I resigned myself to support your decision. Which, really, was just an acknowledgment of how little control I truly held over my own daughter. Beyond that, recent events have shown me how right your mother was. It infuriated me how she would instill a sense of wanderlust in you, no matter how much I objected.”

“There were a lot of bumps along the way,” Vessani said. “I only told you the stories that made me look good.”

“Of course, you faced challenges. I expected this, and so did your mother. But the difference between us, as I see it, is your mother always kept her eyes fixed on the future, on what was possible, while my vision has always stayed rooted in the now, as if pointed at my own feet. And now I see how much stronger her vision was. Your brother saw it, too.”

“I wish he could have been here.” One of the distant deifactories drew her gaze. Her brother Ket’Vin was there as part of his tour of the habitat, working to strengthen relations with the other nations.

“As do I, but he has his role to play, just as you have yours. We can’t stay cooped up in here, no matter how dangerous the realm beyond our home might prove. We need to risk our first steps into those dark waters, because if we don’t, something worse than these raiders might take an interest in us, and then what’ll happen to our people? Our way of life?”

“You do realize I left for myself. Not for our people.”

“I know. Doesn’t change the fact that you’re helping to realize your mother’s vision.”

“More than you know, if we’re lucky.”

D’Miir’s ears perked up.

“It all hinges on us retrieving the Black Egg,” Vessani said, “but Joshua found something in the deifactory. A production pattern that could help lift our people out of this low-tech mire. Ret’Su can fill you in.”

“Truly?” He raised his ears and his tail swished.

Nearby, Nathan took hold of Aiko-Six’s shoulders. Joshua grabbed her legs, and together they carried the body down the steps. They reached the rover’s lowered rear gate and swung the body onto the shelf, then pushed it all the way inside before closing the gate.

“Think you’ll be able to get her working again?” Joshua asked, wiping his hands.

“Not on my own,” Nathan grumbled, then headed back up the stairs as if searching for something.

“This Joshua,” D’Miir continued quietly. “Are you and he . . . ?”

“We are.”

“Does he treat you well?”

“Like I’m royalty,” she replied with a smile.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“And he’s smart, too.”

“That much is obvious. He’s with you, after all.”

Vessani giggled, and her tail twitched happily. Under different circumstances, she would have given her father a playful smack, but she didn’t want to aggravate his injuries.

Nathan hurried down the steps and tossed a severed arm into the back of the Rover.

“Vess!” he called out. “I don’t mean to rush you, but we’re leaving as soon as Rufus finishes up!”

“Got it! I’m just saying my goodbyes!”

Nathan gave her a quick thumbs-up, then planted his hands on his hips and surveyed the area, checking for any Aiko-Six pieces he may have missed, she presumed.

“Captain Kade!” D’Miir raised his chin and walked toward Nathan. Vessani shadowed him by a step, ready in case his knees began to falter, but her father’s stride held strong and true.

“Yes?” Nathan asked.

“Your companion fought well, bravely sacrificing herself to save those she had only just met. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen such profound heroism and selflessness on display from an outsider!”

“Don’t mention it,” Nathan replied with a casual shrug. “That wasn’t her first scrap with troublemakers.”

“Indeed!” D’Miir glanced over the pile of mechanical parts in the back of the rover. “I’m sure you have your own burial rites to observe, but allow us to honor her in our own way. We shall erect a shrine dedicated to her.” He extended both arms toward the stairs. “Right there, where she fell!”

“That’s, umm . . .” Nathan frowned. “You really don’t have to.”

“But I insist. Her spirit may be gone, but we shall ensure her memory never dies!”

“Um, yeah, about that. Funny you should mention her memory.”

Nathan’s commect chimed before he could continue, and he keyed it.

“Go ahead.”

“The ship’s on the ground, Nate,” Aiko-One reported.

“Good. We’re wrapping up here and will be on our way shortly.” He cleared his throat. “Also, you’re not going to believe this, but the nekoans are going to build a shrine for Six.”

“They are?” She sounded unusually excited by the news.

“Yeah. The king said so himself.”

“Aww!” Aiko cooed. “That’s so sweet!”


The Neptune Belle shadowed the pale ship on its flight from WC-9003. Nathan maintained a gap of a thousand kilometers between the two vessels while Aiko kept her eye on the ship through their telescope, observant for any sign of aggressive maneuvers or weapons fire.

Both ships accelerated in sync at a constant 1.2 gees with the nekoan cylinder retreating away beneath them, according to the Belle’s thrust orientation. If the crew of the pale ship knew they were being followed, they showed no sign of it.

Joshua, Vessani, and Rufus had joined the others in the cockpit and asked for Nathan’s Almanac, which he handed over. Together, the three studied the pale ship’s course and attempted to correlate it with the Solar Almanac’s entries for the local cluster.

All that changed about twenty-five minutes into their pursuit.

“They’re turning around!” Aiko warned. “Everyone strapped in?”

Vessani and Joshua hurried back to their jump seats. Rufus was already seated.

“We’re good,” Vessani said, buckling in. “Go ahead.”

“Now executing turnaround.” Aiko throttled back to zero, flipped the ship, and reengaged their thrusters. “They made a course adjustment at the same time. A fairly big one, too. If you ask me, they aim to approach one of the nearby habitats from a specific angle.”

“But which one?” Joshua wondered, scrolling through the Almanac.

“Not sure,” Rufus said, “but I think I saw an entry in that general . . .” He trailed off, and his face darkened. “Nate, we need to brake harder.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I know where they’re heading, and we don’t want to be anywhere near it.” Rufus swallowed hard. “There’s a habitat up ahead called the Sanguine Ring, and the Association rated it a Danger Eight.”

“Oh, shit!” Aiko exclaimed. “He’s right! Sorry about this, everyone! Hang on!” She maxed out the thrusters at 1.8 gees.

Gravity shoved Nathan into the pilot seat’s cushioning, and he wheezed out an uncomfortable breath.

“Sorry!” Aiko checked her navigational vlass. “Okay, the added thrust should stop us about five thousand kilometers from the ring. Rufus, what’s the entry say about the safe approach distance?”

“Four ships were lost near the ring: three to unknown causes, but one sent out a signal before it was destroyed. It was nine hundred kilometers away from the ring when automated defenses took it out. That was about a hundred years ago.”

“Okay, then we should be good holding at five thousand.” Aiko looked to Nathan for confirmation.

“Right.” Nathan would have given her a nod, but his head felt like a leaden lump on the end of a wobbly stick. “We’ll stop there and . . . think over our next move.”


The Sanguine Ring was an open-ring habitat that lived up to its name, possessing a deep red exterior ribbed in baroque obsidian structures. Massive, spiked supports bracketed the atmospheric retention walls, extending far above it and bending outward at the tips. The habitable zone measured four hundred kilometers thick, and with the ring’s twelve-hundred-kilometer radius, provided a surface over three million square kilometers in size. Surface gravity was precisely one gee.

The surface looked about as friendly as the rest of the place. Black vegetation dotted a corpse-white landscape shot through with crimson rivers and lakes. The sun-orb brightened for a new dawn, braced in the ring’s center by five narrow spokes. The pale ship had landed on an unusually large deifactory situated on the largest continent.

“So cheery.” Nathan unbuckled and floated out of the pilot seat. “Rufus?”

“Yes?” The cleric looked away from the ring.

“Theological question for you.” He pointed at the ring. “Why would the Pentatheon build a monstrosity like this?”

“Because they were asked to,” Rufus replied simply.

“But why?”

“I’m sure the ancients who asked for it had their reasons.”

“And those reasons might be . . . what?”

Rufus spent a few seconds soaking in the Sanguine Ring’s aesthetic. He felt as if his eyeballs would start bleeding if he stared too long.

“I can only speculate,” he said at last.

“Right,” Nathan breathed. “So, what now, people?”

“If you ask me,” Aiko said, “at least some of those spiky parts are defensive systems. And with the way they bend outward, there are no safe approach angles, which seems to be the point. We can’t hide in the ring’s shadow during our approach and expect that to keep us safe.”

“The raiders flew straight in without an issue,” Vessani noted. “We have their approach path and their landing coordinates. We could give it a try.”

“We could.” Nathan crossed his arms. “It’s possible the defenses won’t lash out at ships approaching along a specific corridor. But if we’re wrong, we’re dead. That’s not much of a plan in my book.”

“Yeah,” Vessani sighed, then glanced to Joshua. “How about you? Any ideas?”

“Not sure,” the engineer replied. “I’m wondering if the pale ship carries a device of some sort that restricts the ring’s defenses. If so, maybe we could follow them the next time they leave and try to snatch it?”

He didn’t sound convinced by his own words.

If such a device even exists,” Nathan said. “Plus, those cyborgs don’t go down easily. They’re not handing over their goodies without a fight.”

Aiko thumped her chest. “I still have my commando body.”

“Which is the only body you have left.”

The cockpit fell silent, and Rufus once again stared at the ring, pondering, wondering. Something tugged at him the longer he gazed upon the ring, and a hint of alien thoughts brushed whispered words across the boundaries of his consciousness.

He closed his eyes and recited a short prayer to Edencraft to clear his mind. The physical world shrank away, and the Belle’s cockpit became nothing more than a muffled, veiled memory. He delved inward, into his own mind, reaching toward the hints and murmurs of thought echoing within own consciousness.

He recited the same prayer over and over again, using it to cleanse his mind of distractions.

And then he found the juncture.

Or did the juncture find him? He was never sure about that.

The Sanguine Ring materialized before his closed eyes. Not the baroque, physical ring, but a manifestation of data given physical form. Here, it resembled a band of hot, radiant gold traced with silver paths that pulsed and rippled with the remnants of ancient god-thoughts. An angry red web of gridlines surrounded the structure, and he wondered if this represented the bounds of its active defenses. He reached an imaginary hand toward the imaginary ring and pulled it close, his consciousness integrating with these virtual echoes.

The ring stood ready to hear him.

A jolt of excitement shot through his mind, but he suppressed it and redoubled his concentration. The ring would hear him, but whether it would acquiesce to his wishes was another matter entirely.

He formulated a simple, direct message and practiced it, the words soft and private for the moment. Some junctures were temperamental when it came to hearing requests, and a poorly formulated or recited message could cause the ring to flinch back in mental revulsion, reverting to a more guarded state. Perhaps breaking off contact entirely.

But Rufus had dedicated most of his life to achieving his current level of mental discipline. He knew on an instinctive level how to approach a juncture this wild, and he conveyed his wish with confidence and care.

Edencraft, creator of this ring, grant us safe passage to the surface.

Nothing happened at first, though Rufus sensed a ripple of some sort, a response that spread through the illusory golden ring. A sense of great deliberation welled up nearby, just beyond his virtual sight, followed by changes to the ring’s visualization. The web that enveloped the ring faded from red to a calmer shade of pink, and a green, funnel-shaped grid extended from the Belle down to the surface.

He opened his eyes and caught the tail end of a debate.

“—we’re not about to sit here waiting for the heat death of the universe,” Nathan said.

“But—” Joshua began.

Rufus cleared his throat, and the discourse died down.

“This ring has an active juncture,” the cleric said once he had everyone’s attention. “It took some doing, but I was able to commune with it and pass on our request for safe passage.”

“And?” Nathan asked.

“The ring responded. We’re clear to land.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yes.”

“Absolutely sure?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

Nathan paused for a moment, checking Rufus’s eyes for any doubt. He must have found none because he nodded and strapped himself into the pilot seat.

“All right, I’m taking us in. Aiko, keep your eyes on those defenses. Let me know if they so much as look at us funny.”

“You’ve got it, Nate.”

Rufus joined Vessani and Joshua and strapped into a jump seat along the back of the cockpit. Nathan plotted a course that would bring them down in the general vicinity of the pale ship, near the deifactory. He eased the throttle up, and the Belle accelerated toward the ring. The cockpit fell silent as everyone watched the ring grow larger.

“Four thousand kilometers,” Nathan called out, his attention split between the ring and his console.

“No sign of activity from the ring,” Aiko said. “So far so good.”

“It’ll be fine.” Rufus leaned back and closed his eyes.

“I’m not doubting you,” Nathan said. “But I am doubting that shady-as-hell ring.”

The Belle sped in, angling to pass over the top of the retention wall near the pale ship’s landing zone.

“Two thousand kilometers,” Nathan said.

Another lengthy period of silence.

“One thousand kilometers,” Nathan reported, and a twinge of worry leaked through his voice. “Reorienting for atmospheric entry.”

He cut their thrust and tilted the ship to face their destination. They glided in, the distance to the ring dropping off rapidly. It fell below nine hundred and . . . 

Nothing happened.

Rufus let out a relieved exhalation. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding the breath in.

Nathan applied small bursts of thrust to adjust the angle of their approach. They sped over the retention wall, passing through the gap between two giant, outward-bent spikes.

“Whew!” Nathan gave their passengers a thumbs-up without turning. “Good job, Rufus.”

“Thanks. Always a pleasure to help.”

“Now, let’s see if we can find a good spot to—”

A simulation smashed into Rufus’s mind, and he gasped from the sudden mental impact. His neck snapped back and his eyes shot open while his vision blurred. Darkness seeped into the edges of his sight, and the world retreated except for the sudden appearance of a golden, almost melted ring, now a thick, gargantuan loop around him. Vibrant red pulsed up through the nearest spikes and gathered in tips that bent toward him.

He tried to form words with his lips, to enunciate a warning to the others, but all he managed was a muted gurgle.

The vision ended, and he slumped in his seat, gasping for air.

“You okay back there?” Nathan asked without turning.

Aiko’s console bleeped and flashed red. “Movement! The nearest spikes are doing something!”

“Too late to turn back!” Nathan tilted the nose down toward the ring’s surface and fired the thrusters at full power. One-point-eight gees slammed everyone into their seats.

Something screamed into Rufus’s ears, its deafening, enraged roar carrying all the fury of a nuclear furnace. He couldn’t tell if it was real or not. He clenched his eyes shut so hard they watered. His mind reached out for the juncture, only to find it churning and bubbling like an invisible sea of rage and pain, and he cried out to it:

Edencraft, have mercy on us! We meant no offense!

“Activity on the spikes!” Aiko shouted. “Energy fire detected! It’s—” She paused, then twisted around in her seat. “It’s firing at something behind us!”

“What the hell?” Nathan tried to spot the other object. A distant point above and behind them glowed like a new star. It turned white hot before disintegrating into a long streamer of spreading, glowing particles.

“I caught a glimpse of it!” Aiko said. “I’m not sure, but I think that might have been another ship!”

“Not anymore!” Nathan checked his console. “Thirty seconds to atmosphere, people!”

“Nate!” Aiko cried. “Those spikes are still active! I think they’re about to shoot at us!”

“Oh, hell!” he gasped. “Hang on, everyone!”

Please, spare us!

The world flashed brilliant orange, even through his eyelids, and a thousand tiny explosions rumbled through the ship. Someone screamed, maybe Vessani, maybe himself.

SPARE US, I BEG YOU!

The glow vanished. Rufus swallowed with a dry throat and blinked his stunned eyes open.

“It . . . it stopped!” Aiko exclaimed. “They stopped shooting!”

“No time to celebrate,” Nathan warned, struggling with the controls. “We’ve got thermal alerts all over the place. The back half of the ship must be glowing!”

The Belle shuddered and wobbled, and the air outside thickened.

“We need to slow down!” Aiko said. “We’re coming in too fast!”

“I’ll try!” Nathan replied, his face stern and focused. “But the reactor’s not happy right now!”

He jerked on the flight stick, and the ship lurched to the side. He fought for control, and the ship began to straighten out. But then a sound like tearing metal ripped through the vessel, ending with a loud, ugly bang.

“What was that?” Nathan snapped.

“A piece of the ship broke off!” Aiko shouted. “And I think it took part of the reactor with it! Two of the three toruses are dead, and the one that isn’t is shaky!”

The pale ground rushed up to meet them.

“Everyone, brace for impact!” Nathan yelled.

“Nate! You see that lake?”

“I see it! What do you want me to do about it?!”

“Use it to soften the landing!”

“This is not a landing!”

The Belle swept over the bloodred lake, and the bottom plowed through the murky water. The sudden drag jerked Rufus against his straps. Water and red algae spewed into the air on either side of the ship. The vessel sank half a deck in, cutting a rippling furrow through the liquid, while a rocky shoreline loomed large ahead.

“Here it comes!” Nathan cried, wincing.

The Neptune Belle struck the cliff face with its bottom two decks, blasting sand and rocks into the air. Metal screeched and crumpled, and the Belle punched through, became airborne again as if taking off from a ramp, and then it slammed back down on its belly and skidded forward to a halt.



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