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Chapter Twenty-Three




“Everyone to the cockpit!” Vessani called out over ship-wide commect. “We’ve got something!”

Nathan set the water bulb down in the cell and resealed Beany’s cutting. It was hard to tell with the branch’s container filled with a brown slurry, but he thought he could make out new roots growing from the cutting’s base. He jogged over to the C Deck cargo hold, met Aiko on her way up via the freight elevator, and arrived on A Deck.

The two of them hurried over to the cockpit, collecting a bleary-eyed Joshua along the way. The pressure door slid open to reveal Vessani and Rufus seated at the tandem controls, the room bathed from above by Sol’s light, darkened and filtered by the cockpit dome. The Black Egg was strapped into one of the jump seats by the entrance.

“Everyone here?” Vessani checked over her shoulder. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

“Mornin’,” Joshua yawned into his fist. “What time is it?”

“Six twenty, Neptune Standard.”

“Feels earlier,” Joshua replied, his sentence merging with another yawn.

“What do you have?” Nathan asked.

Rufus flashed a confident smile. “We believe we found the statite.”

“You did? Now that’s what I like to hear!”

Rufus and Vessani had spent the last three days tracking down their target, with Rufus communing through the Black Egg and Vessani using his insights to make course corrections. Their wavering, sinusoidal flight path had taken them deep into the inner system, well inside Venus’s orbit.

“Here. Take a look.” Rufus brought up an image of Sol on his console and stood out of the way. The telescope feed showed a black sliver moving across the yellow surface of Sol. An off-white orb near the edge of the screen may have been Mercury.

“The statite?” Nathan tapped the dark blemish.

“That’s right,” Rufus said. “We lucked out when it passed between us and Sol. The exterior is very dark, which is one of the reasons it took us so long to spot it.”

“What do we know so far?”

“Not much yet,” Vessani said. “It’s moving inward at fifty-three kilometers per second and will pass within Mercury’s orbit before heading back out for the next seventy or so years. We’ll need to get closer to know more.”

“How soon will we reach it?”

“Let’s see.” Vessani input parameters into her console’s navigational vlass. “We’ll need about a day to slow down and match its course. That’s assuming we turn around now. We’re accelerating the wrong way.”

“Then let’s get started,” Nathan said.


The statite measured twenty kilometers long, fourteen tall, and three wide. The ends tapered down to points, which made the megastructure resemble a massive black kite that rotated slowly on its long axis. It was both larger and smaller than Nathan thought it would be.

Larger because he struggled to wrap his head around a find this huge. What were they even supposed to do with hundreds of cubic kilometers of pentatech? Never mind the dangers that undoubtedly lingered beneath its surface. They were a motley crew on a stolen ship without backup of any kind. Sure, they’d found the thing. But what now?

Smaller because he’d expected something more grandiose and jaw-dropping from the Pentatheon’s star-lifting apparatus. Yes, the statite was big in a literal sense—the Stolen Dragon was little more than a dust mote next to it—but compared to the scale at which the Pentatheon had altered the solar system, this was little more than an afterthought. A toy next to other, more impressive megastructures.

Then again, Nathan reminded himself, this one statite must have been part of a far larger system. How many of these machines once encircled Sol in a dark halo? Hundreds? Thousands?

Tens of thousands?

Even more than that?

Who the hell even knows anymore?

Either way I look at it, it’s big.

“Let’s see if I can give us a better view.” Vessani cut their thrust and turned the ship toward the megastructure. They floated leisurely across the megastructure’s long axis, sunlight glaring at them from one side.

A matte black variant of solar skin coated most of the statite’s smooth, uniform exterior, though craters of varying sizes marred its surface here and there. Nathan used a joystick to point the telescope at one of those craters and zoomed in. Some ancient impact had stripped the surface of solar skin, revealing lighter materials underneath that had bowed inward. The damage appeared superficial in nature. Certainly not on the order needed to fling the statite into a seventy-one-year elliptical orbit.

“Anyone see a way in?” Vessani asked.

“I’ll let you know if I spot one,” Joshua replied.

They passed a canyon with sloped sides that cut across the statite’s entire fourteen-kilometer short axis. The slopes led down to . . . mechanisms of some kind, with the dangling remnants of massive—if tattered—sheets of reflective material. At first Nathan assumed the statite’s surface had been stripped by old impacts, but after closer inspection the machinery around those sheets seemed too well preserved.

“What do you think those are?” Nathan swung the telescope feed toward one of the sheets and zoomed in.

“Hard to say.” Joshua rubbed his chin as he pondered the image. “The statite would have needed some means to hold its position. Perhaps those are the remnants of solar sails? Or maybe something else, like a part of the machinery used to gather ejected matter? Whatever used to be there broke off long ago.”

The Stolen Dragon floated across the statite on its way toward the kite’s forward tip. The flat surface of the statite tilted noticeably toward them as they progressed.

“Vess,” Nathan said.

“I see it.” Vessani gave him a quick, reassuring smile. “I’m not about to let the thing smack us.”

“Just making sure.”

“Don’t you worry.” She winked at him, and her tail flicked to the other side of her seat. “Your ship’s in good hands.”

You, too? he thought. When did everyone suddenly decide this Jovian tub belongs to me? Not that I’m in a position to say no to a new ship, but still . . . 

“Hold on, everyone. Small course correction coming up.” Vessani applied a short burst of thrust. Nathan grabbed a handhold to steady himself as the ship pulled ahead of the statite’s languid spin. “We’ll continue like this, then loop around the other side. Sound good?”

“Works for me,” Nathan said.

The Stolen Dragon slid across to the front of the statite, and Vessani fired the thrusters again. She eased the ship around the tip, which turned out to be rounded and transparent at the end, leading down into a massive, mechanical funnel.

Possibly a lens for a giant laser? Nathan wondered.

Aiko thumped the side of her head, prompting a curious look from Nathan.

“You all right?” he asked.

“Yeah, just . . .” She thumped her head again and shook it. “I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.”

“It’s just . . . I can hear it.”

“The statite?”

“Yeah. It’s like someone’s whispering to me. Almost as if they’re right behind me, only no one’s there when I turn around, and I can’t shut them up no matter what I do. It’s annoying.”

“What’s it saying?”

“Bunch of nonsense. Keeps going on and on about needing flesh and metal for its wounds. I really wish it would shut up!”

“I can hear it, too.” Rufus tapped an implant in his temple. “There’s an extremely powerful juncture nearby. The signal’s so strong I switched off my more sensitive implants.”

“Wish I could do that,” Aiko grumbled.

“I guess I should have figured you’d hear a signal this strong,” Rufus said. “Pentatech junctures do overlap with Jovian wireless, after all.”

Really wish they didn’t.”

“Make sure to tell us if it gets worse,” Nathan said. “Both of you, okay?”

“Of course, Nate,” Rufus said, calm and collected.

“Yeah, yeah,” Aiko dismissed, sounding a little irritated.

Vessani brought the ship around to the statite’s dark side.

“Hold here,” Nathan said. “Let’s wait until we have some light.”

“Sure thing.” Vessani brought them to a relative stop about a kilometer off the side of the statite, and they waited.

Nathan glanced over to the Black Egg, still secured to the jump seat. He wasn’t sure why he chose that moment to look at it. Maybe the talk of signals put the artifact in mind. Regardless, something appeared to be moving inside the Black Egg. It gave the impression of a long, snaking object swimming around, almost as if the artifact were about to hatch and give birth.

“Vess?”

“Yeah?”

“Is it normal for the Black Egg to be doing that?”

“Doing what?” Vessani glanced away from her controls. “Um, no. Definitely not.”

“Just so you know”—Nathan rested a hand on his holstered pistol, the wyrmstake he’d liberated from the corvette’s supplies—“if that egg hatches, I’m shooting whatever spills out.”

“It’s a glorified signal relay, Nate,” Rufus said. “Not an actual egg.”

“Maybe so, but I’ve had my fill of nasty surprises.”

“Look!” Joshua pointed, drawing everyone’s attention back to the statite.

Sunlight had just hit the side they were on, and long shadows formed behind every surface imperfection. Most of them were small, either created by the lips of craters or by mechanical protrusions.

But one shadow stood out, wider and longer than all the others. It stretched back from a massive crescent gash, the edges twisted into a parody of a grin filled with jagged metal teeth. It must have been at least half a kilometer across.

“The wound,” Rufus murmured.

“Hold up.” Nathan turned to the cleric. “I thought the wound was that nasty flesh pit in the deifactory.”

“No.” Rufus shook his head. “That was nothing more than a twisted reflection. Something made by human hands at the direction of the deifactory. This”—he gestured at the cavernous maw—“is not of human origin.”

“It doesn’t look very inviting,” Joshua said.

“Your orders?” Vessani asked.

“Take us in closer,” Nathan said. “We didn’t come all this way to turn back now.”

“Got it. Closing in.” Vessani eased up on the throttle and maneuvered the ship across the surface to the ugly, leering tear in the statite’s side. The cavernous mouth gaped open, and the ship came to a halt near it.

“What caused this?” Joshua wondered aloud.

“The Scourging of Heaven,” Rufus whispered with equal parts reverence and fear.

“Vess,” Nathan asked, “can you get some light in there?”

“Umm.” Vessani searched the controls. “As soon as I find the right button.”

“Here.” Aiko grabbed the handhold behind Vessani’s headrest, hauled herself forward and tapped a quick series of commands into a vlass. A searchlight below the cockpit switched on and illuminated the twisted depths of the wound’s ragged, jutting metal.

“Interesting.” Joshua pointed to one side of the gash. “You can see the rough crescent shape continue into the interior, but at a very shallow angle. Almost like . . . maybe an energy weapon hit the statite?”

“You’d need one hell of a gun to melt through all this,” Nathan said. “How deep does it go?”

“Let me see if I can get us a better view.” Vessani fired a burst of thrust and tried to shine the spotlight at an angle down into the wound. The light reflected off a long cavern, its walls a jumble of twisted wreckage that transitioned into oppressive darkness at the far end.

Really deep.” Nathan sighed.

Joshua pulled himself over to the copilot seat. “Radar puts the end of the cave some five kilometers away.”

“Like I said. Really deep.”

“Want me to head on in?” Vessani glanced over her shoulder to Nathan.

“Not particularly. What about the spin?”

“I can handle it. The spin isn’t too fast, and there’s more than enough space inside to maneuver. I can get us in and out safely, no problem. Plus, a lot of that wreckage looks wide enough to land on, if you wanted to.”

“Hmm,” Nathan murmured thoughtfully.

“This seems to be the only way we can access the interior,” Rufus said.

“I know, but . . .”

“Don’t you worry.” Vessani winked at him. “I won’t put so much as a scuff on your new ship.”

It’s not my ship, Nathan thought, but then said:

“All right, but I’ll hold you to that,” he warned her, though he grinned as he said it. He took a deep breath and swept his gaze over the others. “It’s been a bumpy ride, but this is what we came all this way for. Vess, take us—”

Red lights began flashing across both pilot consoles.


The Leviathan of Io and its escort of five Star Dragon corvettes decelerated in unison as they approached the ancient statite.

<There it is,> Galatt Xormun mused from the Leviathan’s bridge, his posture rigid in the high gees. He gazed upon the magnified image of the distant black sliver with a satisfied smirk. The prize was finally within their grasp.

The Leviathan’s thrusters cut off, and Xormun floated off the floor. He steadied himself with a hand against the ceiling.

<Target distance reached,> the pilot said. <All ships at a relative stop five thousand kilometers behind the statite.>

<No reaction detected from the relic,> a data analyst reported.

<Send Shadow Three forward,> Xormun ordered. <Let’s take a good look at what we’re dealing with.>

<Yes, Apex.> The comms officer opened a commect channel. <Leviathan of Io to Shadow Three. Proceed to the statite and begin your sweep.>

<Orders confirmed, Leviathan. Heading out.>

The corvette spun around, lit its thrusters, and slipped out of formation.

. . . the wound . . . 

. . . it aches . . . 

. . . it burns . . . 

Xormun frowned and glanced around the bridge, wondering if anyone else had heard that. He grabbed a handhold and propelled himself over to the comms station, stopping himself with a hand on the console’s side. He opened a channel to Shadow Six, which had picked up the survivors from Shadow Two marooned on the Sanguine Ring.

<Y-yes, Apex?>

The stutter on the other end of the line caught Xormun off guard and he frowned again.

<Is something wrong?> he asked his copy-subordinate, feeling a mix of concern and annoyance. He wondered, not for the first time, if his copy had suffered more than superficial damage while on the Sanguine Ring. He made a mental note to have the copy’s persona scrutinized before reintegration.

<Uhh, no. Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. Why do you ask?>

<Do you hear it?>

<The statite?>

<Yes, the statite,> Xormun bit out.

<I-I do, but that’s to be expected. We needed the Black Egg to track the signal this far, but now that we’re so close . . . >

His copy trailed off.

<Any reaction from our Black Egg?> Xormun asked.

<Um, yes. Th-there’s heightened internal activity. We think it’s reconfiguring itself to better boost the signal.>

<Any cause for concern?>

<I . . . don’t think so?>

Xormun grimaced at his copy’s lack of decisiveness. <Are you sure you’re in the right state of mind?>

<Y-yes. Just . . . a little distracted. The Black Egg is being— It’s loud sometimes. Its presence makes concentrating difficult.>

<Keep me informed of any developments,> Xormun ordered in a neutral tone.

<Yes, Apex. Of course.>

Xormun closed the channel and checked on Shadow Three’s progress. The corvette spun around again and commenced its final deceleration, but even at this range it began relaying back a treasure trove of images, video, and instrument data for his analysts to delve into.

<Apex, take a look at this.>

Xormun floated over to one of those analysts, who indicated a damaged section on the statite’s surface. It was a grinning wound over half a kilometer wide.

<How convenient. Once Shadow Three completes its survey of the exterior—>

The Wound.

The Wound.

I Want.

I Need!

Those last words slammed into Xormun’s mind with almost physical force, and his vision darkened. The walls and ceiling transformed into the black embrace of a star-studded sky, and a huge, twisted mouth replaced the bridge floor. The lips curled back, snarling, baring metal teeth. Those teeth parted and he plummeted down a throat built from the twisted fabric of space itself. He spun away, tumbling through a bottomless abyss that—

The imagery ended as abruptly as it had begun.

<Apex?> the analyst asked.

Xormun paused, momentarily stunned by how vividly his senses had been overtaken. He crossed his arms, striking a thoughtful pose to mask the momentary slip in composure.

Distracting indeed, he thought, recovering from the experience. But a few random visions won’t be enough to deter us. This place, and all its secrets, will be ours. It’s what we were sent out to do.

<Send the following message to Shadow Three,> Xormun ordered at last. <Complete the initial survey of the statite’s exterior, then proceed inside. All other ships will close with the statite.>


“We’re in so much trouble,” Vessani muttered under her breath, hands gripping her flight controls.

Nathan grabbed the edge of her console and lowered himself onto the cockpit dome’s glass. The Stolen Dragon sat inside a recess along the wound cavern’s walls, their view of the mangled interior partially obstructed by a twisted structural beam. Gravity was light this close to the statite’s center axis, perhaps a tenth of a gee.

Nathan wasn’t sure how Vessani had managed to slip the ship underneath that mess without any damage, but true to her word, she’d managed to back them into the alcove without so much as a scrape. He pressed his cheek against the concave glass, trying to catch a glimpse of the cavern mouth.

“We’ve got company,” he whispered.

A Jovian corvette swept its searchlight across the wound interior, then fired its thrusters to hold a relatively stable position outside.

Aiko joined him and followed his gaze. “Another Star Dragon. That’s not the ship we saw before we ducked inside. It’s too small.”

“Which means there’s more than one ship out there,” Nathan concluded with a grimace.

“I’m guessing the big one was the Leviathan of Io.”

“We have all the luck,” Nathan grumbled.

“Want me to blast that corvette?” Vessani asked, one hand hovering over the weapon controls.

“And let the rest of them know where we are?” Nathan asked pointedly. “No, thank you. Keep it quiet.”

“We might take out that corvette,” Aiko said, “but we don’t stand a chance against that cruiser!”

“They’ll find us eventually,” Joshua said. “We can’t stay here forever.”

“We can’t run, either,” Nathan added grimly. “The Jovians will overtake us with ease.”

“Unless we push this ship to the limit,” Joshua pointed out. “We’ll feel that in the morning, but it’s better that than rotting in a Jovian prison.”

“Hold that thought,” Nathan muttered. “Looks like they’re moving on.”

The Jovian corvette angled its thrusters and slid out of sight.

Rufus sighed with relief. “They didn’t see us.”

“This time at least,” Aiko said. “It helps that we’re in a stealthy ship.”

“But they’ll eventually spot us.” Nathan pushed off the glass and climbed back up to the cockpit peninsula.

“So, we can’t fight and we can’t run,” Joshua summarized.

“Yep.”

“Then what do we do?” Joshua asked.

“That’s the big question, isn’t it?”



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