The Deep Link (The Ascendancy Trilogy Book 1) (27 page)

Kriahm walks down the E-One dispatch center corridors,
looking for the Yantulin female he met earlier. He doesn't have to look far.
Her bright fuchsia eyes lock onto his through the crowd, widening anxiously.
Kriahm approaches her, bows his head courteously, and leads her out of the
traffic to one of the regeneration rooms available on that level.

Standing much closer to each other in the tiny room than
either of them likes, the two nod a silent greeting.

"Unsuccessful?" she asks.

"Administrative hindrances."

"I feared so."

Kriahm tastes the air, looking for traces of potential
complication. The Yantulin has apparently not met with anyone else since they
parted.

"Do you know of an unofficial way to acquire
assistance with my mission?" he asks boldly.

The Yantulin flutters her feathers gently. "You have
found it."

"What is your name?"

"Igaforayka Elvenaitea," she lilts softly.
"Call me Ayka, my Lord. Your dedicated guide through any hardships you may
encounter, if I should be so blessed."

Kriahm doesn't trust Yantulins in general, and this one
even less. The question of why she has been employed to follow him remains
open. There will be time for investigations later though, once they're
underway. "I indeed require your help and your discretion."

"Anything, my Lord." Her voice trembles with
excitement in a myriad of tones.

It quickly turns out Kriahm was right to ask for Ayka's
help. She has her own ship, an impressively equipped Yantulin incursion and
inspection vessel. She allegedly chartered it from one of her previous
employers, who mysteriously vanished in a mission beyond the rim of the Grand
Helix, failing to reclaim his possession. It doesn't bother Kriahm the least
bit that she is a thief and liar, maybe even murderer, as long as she serves
her purpose. And he'll see to it that she does.

Her vessel, skillfully disguised as a cruiser and docked
to another one of Enryasse's spheres, carries a skeleton crew of five, all with
unclear allegiances and no recorded past.

"The
Immtrelia
has served me well," Ayka
says as she escorts Kriahm to her vessel. "I hope she will serve you
better still."

Kriahm squints down at her from the side. "What about
your employer? Will you inform him about this? Will he allow it?"

Ayka turns to face him, ruffling her feathers as if
shivering uncomfortably. "There is no greater distinction for a Yantulin
mercenary than to be in the personal service of a Dominant. My employer could
never match that."

Kriahm suspected as much. After all, her admiration for
his kind is genuine; he felt it during his previous inquiry. "What are
your demands, then?"

An ample, ear-tingling laugh erupts from Ayka's chest.
"Let us first see your mission fulfilled, my Lord. My demands are
negligible, I assure you. They will wait."

Kriahm accepts, and follows her aboard her ship.

The
Immtrelia
is neither large, nor comfortable
enough for an Emranti. Its skeletal crew suddenly seems overbearing. Spending
the duration of his flight back to Amharr aboard a reeking, claustrophobic
vessel, will be difficult. But Kriahm will endure.

Ayka introduces him to the crew. Her first officer is a
Yantulin male named Hresia, quiet and polite, and thoroughly intimidated by
Kriahm's presence. The on-board technician is—what else?—an Ilkryp, but luckily
a well-groomed one. The other three crewmembers are mercenaries Ayka has
collected from previous missions: an impressively bulky Qidur male, a Kolsamal
female, and a sexless, reptilian Naaejin. Kriahm greets all three of them in
turn, investing an added effort into hiding his contempt.

"When will we be ready to leave?" he asks.

Ayka passes the question along. "Hresia, news?"

"Any blink now," he replies in a comforting
singsong. "Patience."

However discontenting they seemed at first, Ayka's crew
proves to have been cleverly selected. As they wait to be cleared for departure
they go about their tasks quietly and efficiently, showing enough courtesy not
to infringe on Kriahm's space. He observes them closely, and dares to believe
they will actually be of help.

"Alright, we're clear," Hresia says, moving over
to the navigation controls.

"Our heading?" Ayka asks Kriahm.

He folds his hands inside his robe. "The Onfeiad
Sector. Approach it from the inner curve of the arm. We must not be seen
coming."

"Certainly, my Lord. Stealth missions are our
specialty." She settles her feathers and takes an elegant bow, waving her
left arms in the direction of the command deck door. "Now, if you please,
allow me to show you to your quarters."

The Syndicate started bombing TMC hubs and surveillance
towers today, and all my prepping and testing suddenly feels like I've wasted
what little time I had. The district's in an uproar—there are sirens
everywhere, people running, shuttles buzzing, strobes flashing in the glowing
night sky. And my heart has shrunk to the size of a pebble.

Preston's 'assets' are breaking into TMC facilities,
stealing weapons, hacking bots and drones, kidnapping officers and blowing up
storage units. So far the Ticks have only sent out troops to contain the panic
and overall damage, but it's just a matter of time before they start fighting
back in earnest. It won't be a fair fight.

Maybe I should have done something sooner. Something
radical, something brave. But it's too late now. My hesitation to do more fills
me with guilt, but I'm forced to swallow it down. Now that people are actually
dying, every minute counts.

"Going somewhere?" Bray asks, leaning against my
doorframe.

I glance at him over my shoulder and keep stuffing my
backpack. "What do you want, Bray?"

"You're ditching, aren't you?"

I ignore him and continue packing. I have to find Preston,
and ram my fist down his throat like I should have done long ago. He's the root
of all this. I can't let him get hundreds of people killed.

"Now look who's the real coward. The moment things
get rough—"

"Stuff it, Bray. You wanted to come here as little as
I did, remember? Weren't you the one trying to convince me it's all a really
bad idea? Make up your damn mind."

"Oh, I've made it up alright. I won't let you leave
just like that."

I look up. "What's your problem?"

"You are."

I pull the straps tight on my backpack and throw it over
my shoulder. Then I turn to scowl at him in earnest. "Get over yourself,
Bray, and get going. You're in my way."

"And you're not leaving," he says, crossing his
arms over his chest. "I won't let you walk out on me."

"On
you
?" I startle.

Bray grins nervously, still blocking my way out.

My palms itch. I grip the straps of my backpack tighter.
"Get out of my way, Bray."

"No."

I step up to him. "Move the fuck aside."

"No can do, Miss."

I push against him. He resists and shoves me back. I try
to walk around him, but he grabs my shoulders and pushes me against the wall.
"Listen you selfish little—"

"Don't insult me."

He shoves a finger at my face. "It's
your
fault we're in this shit situation. Because of
you
and your goddamn
'infection' Preston got the crazy idea he could beat the Ticks. You crashed us
into that alien ship, and fucked up my mission—my
life
! And now you want
to ditch? I don't think so."

"You don't have to stay here either," I say,
trying to talk my way around him. "Leave while you still can."

"What a wonderful idea." He chuckles, breathing
down my face.

This is getting weird. Something's up with him. Whatever
it is, it's keeping me from doing what I have to do.

"Let me tell you something, Taryn." His voice is
almost a whisper. "You're trouble incarnate. Ever since we met, things
have gone south for me really fast."

He's so close now I can smell his skin, so close I can see
his pulse race quickly through the veins on his neck. "Stay," he
whispers, leaning into me. "Be with me." He cups my face in both
hands and covers my mouth with his.

His lips are hot and moist. His tongue presses fiercely
against mine. He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me closer, sucking the
breath out of me.

My skin is a sheath of white noise.

I push him away.

He comes back harder and pins me against the wall. He
kisses my neck fiercely, nipping at my skin.

Sparks cloud my vision.

His hands slide down to my hips, and his mouth finds mine
again. His fingers crawl over my belly, unfasten my overall. They sneak inside
it, trembling hotly over my skin.

Beneath the rush of contact, a dangerous rumble awakens
within me.

"Bray, I can't do this."

He shoves his tongue into my mouth, and slams my head
against the wall. I push him away, but he doesn't care.

My insides coil up in flames.

"Bray, stop."

He's eager and determined, and stopping is not an option.
I pinch him hard in the side. He draws his head back, scowling at me like a
startled animal.

I take a deep, sobering breath. "It's not going to
happen, Bray."

He tries to kiss me again. I avert my face.

"You want me too. I can feel it in your body,"
he says. "We've had this
thing
going on from the very
beginning."

"We had
nothing
." I try to free myself,
but he won't let me. He shifts his weight and grabs my chin between his
fingers.

"If you don't get off me right now, you're gonna be
sorry, Bray. I swear."

He strokes my face. "Feisty. I like that about
you."

"Fuck off."

"You know? I think you and I could make it out there.
We could actually have a life together."

"You're crazy."

"Think about it, Taryn. Just think about it. It's our
best chance. It's our
last
chance."

His pupils are dilated, his breathing shallow.

I vividly remember different eyes absorbing me, a
different skin trembling beneath my fingers, as I was blissfully consumed by a
different,
inhuman
hunger. Something uncoils inside me like a poisonous
snake.

"No," I tell him. "I don't want you. Simple
as that."

Bray stares at me, arrested in the turbulence created by
my words like a glider caught in the wake of a rocket.

He lets me go.

I rest my head against the wall and look at him, slouching
before me, breathing heavily.

"I thought you—" he starts, then takes in a
breath between stiff lips. "Never mind." He turns his back on me.

"Sorry if I gave you the wrong idea," I say,
even though I don't remember ever having done so.

He stops in the doorway and looks back at me. Then he's
gone.

What the hell was he thinking? Have I really given him the
impression I'm interested? Has he been flirting with me and I didn't notice? I
sigh and wipe my face. I don't have time to worry about this shit now.

"Taryn?"

I startle, and pick up my backpack. "Hey, Jade."

"What are you doing?" He closes the door behind
him, and rubs his face. I'm relieved to see he's not out there, involved with
the attacks.

A powerful rumble shakes through the building, and the
lights go out. The intercom's service light turns on, bathing everything in a
cold blue light.

"I have to go, Jade. I'm... meeting Denise
somewhere," I lie. I've already put him through so much, I won't ask him
to do anything more for me.

"Everyone's scattered, gone underground," he
says. "We're in com silence for the next hour or so. The Ticks sent out
some nasty e-crawlers to track us." He sits on the bed. I drop my
backpack, and sit next to him for a second.

"The Ticks won't stick to e-crawlers and patrols for
long. You'd better get out of here, Jade. Go somewhere safe."

"Armed combat isn't the worst I've been through, and
you know it."

I look at his face, pale and drawn in the blue light.
"Speaking of which, you never told me your story. Where were you all these
years after I left Maza?"

"My dad died in the Raids. My mom and I, and
Henry,"—I suddenly remember his brother, a toddler when we were in
school—"were deported to a relocation center on Procyon. Darkest years of
my life."

"What happened?"

"We almost starved." He rubs his forehead with
the back of his hand. "My mom... She had to do things to keep us fed. I
couldn't take it. When a guy offered me a job to transport some things to the
asteroid belt, I took it in a blink. Didn't whisper a word."

"The belt—where the prison camps are?" I imagine
a fifteen-year-old Jade, desperate and scared, trying to support his family. I
swallow, my heart sinking.

"It was an org-pack," Jade's voice fades to a
whisper. "Small enough for me to swallow. Undetectable, the guy said.
Nothing dangerous. Would have earned us a thousand credits—enough to make it
for a whole month in that rat hole. But by the time I reached the Atara prison
the org-pack had dissolved and flooded my bowels with hyoscine. I would've died
if I hadn't been arrested. The Ticks purged my guts and imprisoned me for five
years, for trafficking mind-altering drugs."

"Hyoscine... Where have I heard that before?"

"'Devil's Breath.' An old Terran drug made from
tropical trees. Just a whiff of it turns you into a tool; no free will, no
memory, perfectly docile. In high dosages it wipes your memory, makes you mad
with hallucinations, and kills you within days. The bastard wanted his friends
in the prison to use it on the guards and break out. The risk of it killing me
wasn't his problem."

I remember the scratch and cut wounds on Jade's stomach,
the aftermath of so many FTL fugues reliving the hell he must have gone through
back then, and a lump forms in my throat.

"Ah, don't worry, Bug-Nut. I don't remember much of
my stay on Atara anyway."

"What happened to your mom and your brother?"

"Never saw them again. Managed to track my mom by
public record, with Preston's help. She died five years ago on the streets,
still back there on Procyon. Haven't found Henry yet."

"But you're still looking for him." He doesn't
answer; doesn't have to. "How did you meet Preston anyway?"

"Met Vik first, actually. We were released on the
same day."

"Vik was in prison? What for?"

"Ask
him
. He knew about Preston from someone,
and contacted him about a job. We were broke and homeless and Preston had
money. Stuck with him from there on out."

I take his hand in mine, squeeze it. "I'm sorry you
had to go through all that."

"You didn't have an easy life either," he says,
squeezing back. "I checked your records before we picked you up from
Maza."

I realize I never checked out his records, back when I
still had a synet. I was so obsessed with the idea of making first contact I
never even bothered.

"Thanks," I say quietly.

"For what?"

"For helping me." I look into his
chocolate-brown eyes.

"I'll always be here for you, Taryn." He leans
in toward me. His breath is warm and soft, his presence soothing. He puts an
arm around me, holds me tight, breathing into my hair. I feel small and
protected.

Then he kisses me.

I let him, reluctantly.

He's gentle and slow. His hand slides over my shoulder,
traces over my neck and earlobe and slips into my hair. He kisses me longer,
breathes harder, wants more.

I turn my head away and gasp. Tears well up in my eyes.

He notices and stops. Hugs me gently instead. "It's
okay. I understand."

He doesn't. He has no clue.

He lets me go and stands back up. "Don't twist your
mind over this, Taryn. I'll be fine."

"I'm sorry, I—"

"Forget it," he cuts me off and opens a
cubbyhole. "I have something for you." He pulls out a small pouch,
opens it and holds out something dangling on a thread. I walk over and take it.
It's a piece of Dorylini mandible, charcoal and sleek, lined with barbs.

"Jade, what—"

"I thought you'd like to have it, since you lost the
other one."

I inspect the mandible more closely. The shiny, hard chitin
is burnt at one end, but it's otherwise intact. I notice an unusual hole in one
of its barbs. This is
Edrissa
's mandible. It almost burns in my hand.

"You like it?" Jade asks.

"Where did you get this from?"

Jade stares at me, hesitating at the anger in my voice.
"I went out to get you when that alien ship opened fire on the hive. I ran
as fast as I could, but they had picked you up already, and there were these...
there was this this pile of..."

"You got this from the bodies outside?" I ask
sharply.

He nods.

I drop the mandible at our feet, pick up my backpack and
throw it over my shoulder.

Jade picks the mandible back up and turns it around in his
hand, avoiding my gaze. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too." I open the door.