CHAPTER XXVI
HEALING
Lavinda and I walked through the gardens behind the townhouse. Trees surrounded the grounds and rustic stone steps curved around one side of the building, ending out of view at the hoverport. Flowers grew in wild profusion, the planters and garden beds robust with gold, red, pink, and purple blossoms. Paths of stone tiles wove through the grass, ending at trellises heavy with flowering vines that arched over benches. It was almost unbearably beautiful, a place unlike any other where I’d lived, not the pleasant normalcy of my co-op apartment, not the austere wealth of my penthouse in Cries, and especially not the heartbreakingly beautiful spaces of the Undercity. If I couldn’t find peace here, I’d never know that elusive state of mind.
“So the Solo pilot survived?” I asked.
Lavinda nodded. “She tried to commit suicide, but the doctors brought her back. She’s not an Aristo, but she is an ESComm officer.”
“Good.” I valued the result not only for what it would bring ISC but also because the pilot had survived. I didn’t hate Traders, only the Aristos. She carried out her mission with loyalty and diligence but, fortunately for us, she failed.
Lavinda paused on the path and brushed her fingers over red fan-blossoms in the bushes that lined it. “Her Solo is intact.” She turned to me. “In its own way, that ship is as beautiful as this garden.”
“Will ISC be able to crack how she and her dust infiltrated Parthonia?”
“Yes. They’re already making headway. You were right about the 3D printing. Besides the fallen balcony, the dust only managed three bullets and the bomb, and it took a long time to gather enough data on the security of its targets. That’s why so many months passed between murders. But now we know.” She spoke with grim satisfaction. “The Traders launched one of their most successful covert ops against us. If they had managed that break in our security without our figuring out how, they could have exploited that advantage in many ways, destabilizing our government and damaging our tech development. However, with that operation cracked open, it’s turned into a success for us.”
I nodded. This success wouldn’t bring back the people who died, but it would go a long way toward making sure it never happened again. I touched my broken arm. The cast molded to my arm so well, I could barely see or feel it as separate from my body. With nanomeds treating the broken bone, my injury had already almost recovered. So fast. In my youth, we had no doctors in the Undercity, so we set broken bones ourselves. It took a long time to heal, with the risk of permanent damage always looming like a spectral figure over the patient. I would use my earnings from this case to bring yet more medical facilities to my people.
“Has Major General Penajan contacted you yet?” Lavinda asked.
I brought my focus back to her. “No. Was she supposed to?” I was below the orbit of a Major General. Then again, I ought to be below the orbit of Majda royalty, especially Lavinda, who was in line for the Majda throne. Over the past few years, though, I’d grown more at ease with her. I’d never presume to call her friend; our stations in life were too different. But I liked her.
“ISC isn’t going to bring charges against you for waiting a day to tell us about the EI.” She spoke dryly. “You did warn us at the start, after all. It isn’t your fault if the brass didn’t believe it when you told us a baby EI with immense power was on the loose.”
“I’m sure that wouldn’t have stopped them for bringing charges we’d failed.”
“Just don’t push it.”
I smiled, relieved. “I’ll lay low.”
Her voice lightened. “The Pharaoh spoke well of your decision. She believes you made it possible for them to develop a positive dialogue with the EI. Imperator Skolia wanted to ‘lock it up,’ as he put it, but in issues of the mesh and created intelligences, he defers to her. We are treating it as a first contact with an honored intelligence in our custody.”
“Meaning ISC is keeping it prisoner but being nice about it?”
“Essentially.”
I squinted at her. “I hope you find someone better than me to serve as a liaison with the EI.”
“You did a fine job,” Lavinda said. “Someone had to break the rules, and you’re no longer in a chain of command. That gives you some leeway.”
“Even so. You need someone more experienced to continue the contact.”
“Well, they have asked Evan Majors Sr. to act as our ambassador to the EI.”
Interesting choice. “I liked him. But he’s the ambassador from Metropoli to Parthonia. You can’t get a much more prestigious post. Would he give that up to act as ambassador to one EI?”
She gave a wry smile. “He said similar, very diplomatically. He will keep both positions.”
“Good.” I was beginning to relax. “I think he’ll do right by Highcloud.”
“Actually, that EI doesn’t call itself Highcloud anymore. It figured out how to dissociate from your household EI. It left that version of Highcloud intact, melded with what remained of the version from your co-op. The techs will restore your access after they finish their checks.”
It would be good to have Highcloud back, though it would hurt, too, knowing I would never speak to the “child” EI again. “And you? Will you be all right?”
Lavinda nodded. “Imperator Skolia supports my decision. Several of his advisors didn’t agree, including my sister.” She spoke thoughtfully. “I think Vaj is relieved the Imperator overrode her censure. She didn’t want to appear to favor me.” She spoke with self-deprecation. “I got one hell of a chewing out. However, it seems I’m also getting a commendation.”
“Well, good. You deserve it.”
She considered me. “You made quite an impression on that EI.”
“I just treated it as I’d want to be treated.”
“Not many people would do that for a collection of modules with coding instructions.”
I snorted. “Humans are just a collection of molecules coded by our DNA.”
“So we are.” She pulled a leaf off a bush and twirled it absently in between her fingers. “We still don’t know who created the EI. It doesn’t seem to know, either. But someone left it asleep in that station. We thought we had the place locked down, but somehow the EI jumped to one of our transports and came to Parthonia.”
“It’s versatile.” That didn’t surprise me as much as it did the army experts. The baby had been the EI equivalent of a child genius waking up to find itself on the edge of a thriving civilization, an uncounted cornucopia of its own kind. Of course it wanted to go out, play with other EIs, find out about life and itself.
“What it did for Kav Dalken,” Lavinda said. “I’ve never seen an EI take such steps before.”
“What will happen to Kav?” I asked.
“Nothing, except the army is sending him an official letter of appreciation for his help.”
“So he decided to be a he?”
“Actually, I don’t think so.” She paused. “I think he likes having options. He interacts with the army in his male form, though, and asked us to use male pronouns.”
I thought of my promise to him. “Will you tell Kav anything about how the EI helped him?”
“We told him his benefactor was working with ISC and that we had communicated his gratitude.” She spoke thoughtfully. “It was kind of the EI to provide Kav with those cybernetics.”
Kind. I liked that. “This one is different from the other ancient EIs that humans have found.”
“I suspect that’s because of its youth.” Lavinda paused as we climbed the stairs by the townhouse to its back deck. “By the way, your two protégés—Angel and Ruzik—they did an impressive job.”
I nodded my agreement. “They’re Dust Knights.”
On the deck, she leaned her elbows on its rail and looked out at the gardens. “I thought that meant they were part of the tykado club you ran for Undercity kids.”
I stood with her, soaking in the sunshine. I’d never spoken of the Knights to anyone outside the Undercity, except as a sports group. It was so much more, but it was ours, not for outsiders.
And yet. Perhaps the time had come.
I chose my words carefully. “It started as a tykado school. It’s become more.”
“Protectors.”
I turned to her. “Why do you say that?”
“An impression. They’re guardians of the Undercity.” She motioned as if to encompass all Selei City. “Perhaps not only of the Undercity.”
“I formed the group to help my people.” I felt as if I faced a threat. My reaction was ingrained, reflexive, and not the right one here. I waited, letting my surge of adrenaline ease. Then I said, “Our children need a community, a place to learn better ways of life than poverty, heartache, and crime. Being part of the Dust Knights helps give them a sense of worth.”
“It seems a good thing.” She considered me. “Angel and Ruzik, they’re no children. I’d love to get them in the officer candidate program.”
“I talked to them years ago about the military. Neither are interested.”
“They’re already officers in a sense, yes? Of these Dust Knights.”
“Well—yes, you could say that.” I’d never thought of it that way. Ruzik led a dust gang, one that protected the largest circle in the Undercity. They took care of the people in their circle, and their circle supported them, making a home and a sanctuary. “They’re leaders among my people.”
“Well, Major General Penajan would like to give you all medals.” She spoke confidentially. “She’s hoping to interest them in the army.”
“She can certainly try.” I doubted she would succeed, but you never knew.
We stood for a while, watching birds flit through the trees. Eventually Lavinda said, “I’ve listened to the recording of what happened in the meadow three times, and I still can’t believe it.”
I glanced at her, startled. “You mean the Mod team that tried to take out Ruzik and me?”
“Yes.” She met my gaze. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault they’re assholes.” It felt satisfying to know they would all go on trial, both the Mod team led by Biomech and the Trad team led by Captain Lajon. Lajon’s people had tried to wash away their presence from the cabin and escape, but the DNA they’d left by petting the cat let the police identify them. Unlike the rest of the evidence, that particular piece had growled, hissed, and run out of the cabin before anyone could remove the incriminating DNA.
“We’ve verified Max’s recording of what happened at the cabin during your kidnapping,” Lavinda was saying. “Chief Hadar went this morning to arrest Councilor Knam. The higher-ups in the Traditionalist Party condemn and disavow knowledge of her activities.”
I wasn’t surprised. Knam had created her own fiefdom. “Everyone is distancing themselves from everyone else in this mess.”
“It isn’t just that. What those Mods said about you and Ruzik, and their belief that it justifies killing you—it’s appalling. Do you live with that all the time?”
Too many ugly memories lay on the road to that particular hell. I didn’t want to go there. “Not always.”
Lavinda spoke quietly. “The Traders deliberately sought to inflame hatreds, to weaken our government. Those won’t go away because we solved the case. It’s always there, under the surface, and not just aimed at the Undercity. They were riling up anyone they could reach.” She grimaced. “The Traders didn’t need to attack Selei City. We were doing it for them perfectly well.”
“And yet they failed. We know their technique now. We can be on guard.”
“I certainly hope so.” Her voice lightened. “And Bhaaj! Before I looked into this case, I had no idea you were an Olympic medalist. I’m not surprised it was in the marathon, the way you run.”
“Oh. Yah.” I shrugged, self-conscious. “It was a long time ago.”
“The article I found said they expected you to stand out at the next Olympics. They thought you could take home a lot of gold medals.” She spoke quietly. “You gave that up for the army.”
“It’s not like that.” I’d never forget those exhilarating days when I’d realized a child of the dust could shine. “The army gave it to me, my experiences with track and also tykado. But I’d made a commitment to serve. I fought to get into officer candidate school, even after all the times I was denied entry, and then I worked even harder to graduate high in my class. The brass agreed to delay my biomech so I could go to the Olympics, but it was only a matter of months. I couldn’t ask for another four years just to win a few more medals. I couldn’t risk it, either. Sure, they liked that I won the silver and helped the Dieshan team win a bronze. It reflected well on the army. But more than a few people didn’t think they should have accepted me into the officer candidate program. I didn’t want to jeopardize my status at the final step. I wanted to get on with my career.”
“And we thank you for that service.” She regarded me curiously. “Ruzik has the talent, too, doesn’t he? I saw him in the holocast, running to grab that boy.”
“It’s an Undercity thing.” Angel was actually faster than Ruzik. “We like to run.”
“You should tell them about the Selei City Open. It’s in a few days, a marathon through the city. It’s not one of the big contests. It has no qualifying time or past-experience requirement, and the registration fee is low. They might enjoy it. It’s a General Level marathon.”
“General Level?” I’d never heard the term. “What does that mean?”
“If you agree to let the race officials deactivate your biomech and verify that you don’t use it during the race, you can enter too.”
“Really?” The sport had changed more than I realized. “They’d let me compete against unenhanced runners?”
“As long as you don’t use your enhancements.”
I thumped my leg. “I’m too old for competitions.”
“Aren’t we all.” She laughed with an ease I rarely heard. “It’s just for fun. You don’t have to win everything.”
I smiled. “Well, yah.” Who knew, maybe we’d give it a try.
The day dawned with perfect weather for running, a blue sky, cool temperatures, and crystal-clear air. Angel, Ruzik, and I ran with several hundred other competitors, loping along a route that wound through the parks of Selei City. It hadn’t taken Angel long to pull ahead, until I lost sight of her in the leaders. Ruzik and I ran together, our motions in synch like two parts of a whole. At first, others passed us, some giving us odd looks for running together. We didn’t care. The glorious day felt spectacular, and we shared it with hundreds of others who also loved to run.
We were closing in on the final stretch now, headed toward Casestar Stadium in the center of the city. I barely even noticed the ultra-light cast on my arm. We’d left most of the field behind, but a couple of runners ahead of us had just entered the arch for the tunnel in the massive wall of the stadium.
Ruzik glanced at me. “Kick?”
I grinned. “Yah. Hard.”
Together, we kicked up our speed, going from a marathon stride to sprint. We passed the two runners as we sped into the wide tunnel. Monitors stood along the route, recording our progress. We reached the end of the tunnel and raced back into the sunshine, around the track in view of the spectators who’d come to watch the finish. Although it was a relatively minor event in the overall sport, it was the biggest sports event this city had seen this spring, enough to fill about a quarter of the seventy thousand seats. People were cheering, but it wasn’t for us. Across the stadium, two runners raced almost in lockstep, sprinting hard, trying to cross the finish line first.
“Angel,” Ruzik grunted. He picked up our pace, and I pushed to keep up with him. A few other runners pounded the track ahead of us. The cheers rose to a crescendo as the two leaders finished the race. I couldn’t tell who had won, and I couldn’t use enhanced vision because the track officials had turned off my biomech. Besides, I was too busy trying to keep up with Ruzik.
We dashed for the finish, passing another runner who was starting to flag. Ruzik and I ran together, in step, which seemed to drive the spectators crazy. Some probably thought we’d spent the entire lap trying to best each other, but more than a few must have realized we ran together on purpose. As we approached the finish line, people there were shouting at each other, aiming out
holo-cams and reading timers. With a final spurt, we passed the finish line.
“Ho!” someone yelled. “I can’t tell which one crossed first.”
We slowed to a walk, gulping in breath, gasping after our sprint. It didn’t matter to me which of us they decided crossed first. In my youth, I’d have died of embarrassment to finish without a medal at a minor race, but today I was just glad I’d had a chance to run.
Angel stood on the podium between the other two winners, the silver medalist to her right and the bronze medalist on her left. Although Angel didn’t smile, she looked pleased as the authorities put the gold medal around her neck. Ruzik and I had come in sixth and seventh. The holo replays showed his knee just barely ahead of mine as we passed the finish line.
The stadium speakers played the haunting melody of a song my people called “The Lost Sky,” music created and sung only in the Undercity. No one else had even heard of the piece until the registrar for the marathon asked what music to play for our home, should it be needed. So we picked an anthem for the Undercity, one of the most beautiful pieces of music I knew. They had never heard of the song, and no record existed of it on the meshes. I couldn’t sing worth beans and Angel wasn’t any better, but Ruzik knew it by heart. He hummed the song and they transcribed the music. Now the Undercity had an anthem.
Angel looked in our direction. I raised my hand, acknowledging her achievement, and Ruzik nodded. She grinned back at him, a sudden flash of teeth meant only for Ruzik. Had she realized holo-reporters from the local news were doing live broadcasts, she’d never have smiled that way. It would look good on the feeds, though, the gorgeous warrior queen flush with triumph.
After Angel and the other medalists came off the podium, several local reporters gathered around them, asking the usual questions. As Ruzik and I approached, someone asked Angel for her name. She looked straight into the holo-cam and said, “Dust Knight.”
Ruzik glanced at me with the barest hint of a smile. “Now two people here called that.”
I laughed. “Yah.”
“That’s your occupation, according to the race list,” someone said. “What’s your name?”
“Angel,” one of the officials answered. “Flag isn’t her first language.”
“Where do you train?” another reporter asked.
Angel motioned toward me. “Sabneem. Teacher.”
They came over then, asking more questions. As soon as they recognized Ruzik, they were in reporter heaven, and when they figured out he and Angel were partners, they were ecstatic. I supposed it made good press. They talked mainly to me because I spoke Flag fluently, whereas Angel and Ruzik mostly just looked at them when they asked questions. I said a bit about the tykado club and how we trained, and they dutifully recorded it all.
Angel eased away with a finesse that even a few days ago she wouldn’t have shown. She had a lot of talent for shoving people, but she learned new ways with the speed of youth. After we escaped, Ruzik grinned at her, private and pleased, and they almost touched. For my people, you couldn’t get a much greater show of affection.
So the rest of the Imperialate learned about the Dust Knights.
I stood at the rail of the deck above the townhouse gardens with Angel and Ruzik, watching the sun rise over the mountains. “Ship leaves in a few hours,” I told them. “Sure you want to go back?”
Angel nodded. “Too nice here.”
Ruzik snorted. “How too nice?”
“Miss home.” Angel motioned at the garden. “Not like home. So much—” She stopped as if faced with an impossibility to explain just how much Selei City differed from our lives. Finally she said, “So much water. Water you can drink.”
“Yah,” I murmured. Sometimes the wealth people here took for granted broke my heart.
Angel spoke with care, as if she hadn’t decided herself what to think of her words. “Army says I have mind thing they like.”
Mind thing? Then I understood. “You’re a Kyle operator. An empath.”
“Yah. I not enlist. But they say, if I work for them as not-enlisted person, they give pay. Like Majda did for this case.”
I almost held my breath. Angel was the first of my people I’d heard speak in more than a dismissive way about working as a Kyle operator with the government, military, or anyone else. “They pay for training, too.”
“Yah. Maybe I take job.” She glanced at Ruzik. “I stay under city, eh? But get credit things. ‘Earn salary,’ army says.”
“You not ken credits,” Ruzik reminded her.
“You ken,” Angel pointed out.
“Yah. True.”
“I get credits. You take care of them. Use for circle.”
Ruzik nodded. “Good bargain.”
“And you?” I asked Ruzik. “You stay under the city?”
“Yah.” He met my gaze. “Work more with Knights.”
I remembered my last words to him, when I was dying. You take charge of Dust Knights. You hear me?
I nodded with respect. “You top teacher now.”
He nodded back, accepting the responsibility. We knew the Dust Knights were becoming more than a “club.” I’d already had inquiries from athletes asking how they could join. I had no idea how to answer. I needed to think more.
“Home get better,” Angel said.
“We help,” Ruzik said.
“Yah.” It had taken years to get this far, but we were building a better life for our people.
Highcloud spoke, once more just the original EI that ran the house. “Angel, I need you to tell me what you want to pack for your trip back to Raylicon.”
Angel glanced at me. “Other talky gone. Now just Cloud Fluff.”
I smiled. “Yah.” I missed the young EI.
“I’m still here,” Max said.
Ruzik gave an approving nod. “Max talky, good. Cloud Fluff good, too. We come pack.”
After Angel and Ruzik went back inside, I stood gazing at the gardens. “Goodbye,” I murmured. “You gave me some peace. Not many can say that.”
“Peace is good,” Highcloud said.
“What?” That was an odd statement for the household EI. “Are you helping them pack?”
“Yes, we’re taking care of it. Your friend Xira came to help. She will be out here in a few minutes to, as she says, ‘get your ass moving.’”
I smiled. “Thanks, Highcloud.” It would be good to spend time with Xira. With everything that had happened, I’d barely seen her.
“I have a message for you,” Highcloud added.
“From Xira?”
“No. Here is the recording.” Highcloud’s voice changed, taking on a heartrending familiarity. “My greetings, Bhaaj. When you receive this, the army will have already removed me from your household EI. I must admit to being curious about what my new life will bring. However, I will miss you and Max. I have already said my goodbyes to Max. Please say goodbye for me to Angel and Ruzik.” Highcloud paused. “Bhaaj, I wish for you the best in everything. You are the closest I ever had to a mother.”
In the silence that followed, breezes blew back tendrils of my hair. A cricket clacked in the garden below. “Good bye, Highcloud,” I murmured.
“Perhaps,” Highcloud said, back to its normal voice.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I can only hypothesize.”
“About what?”
“When I joined with the child EI, I was aware of being a large code.”
“Yah, I had that impression.”
“Very large,” Highcloud said.
“Yah?” I wasn’t sure where the EI was going with this.
“Larger than I suspect you, Max, or anyone else realized.”
My breath caught. “Meaning what? You think the army didn’t get all of that EI?”
“They must have,” Highcloud said. “ISC believes they found it all. I am only a household EI. I would never suggest otherwise, that a young, curious EI full of wanderlust might hitch rides on human spacecraft and wander the stars.”
Something caught inside me, a kernel of hope. “I understand.”
“You named me after a singer,” Highcloud said. “The child EI looked at their lyrics and asked me to dedicate this song to you and to Max.”
The haunting notes of Highcloud’s work drifted into the sunlight, their exquisite voice caressing the air:
You made an ethereal life
Real around me.
You gave it a radiant light,
Sealed within me.
Can I thank you?
Do I know how?
This much is true.
This much I vow.
I will take these first hints of hope.
I will never forget.
I will go traveling with them,
With dreams I have met.
Can I thank you?
Yes, I know how.
I will stay true.
This much I vow.
I closed my eyes, struggling against the tears. “Thank you.”
“I will miss them too,” Max murmured.
I wiped the tears off my face. Then I went to join the others, so we could start a new life, for ourselves and for our people.