The Deep Link (The Ascendancy Trilogy Book 1) (31 page)

Amharr stares at the Master Onryss. He stands in the middle
of the corridor, the floor creeping up his ankles. The vessel is defying him.

Onrysses rush through the corridors like crazed beasts,
disturbed by the increasing violence aboard, yet they go quiet when Amharr is
nearby. Emranti and Kolsamal fight everywhere, but he never seems to encounter
anyone. He's tired and hungry, yet no room accepts him, nothing reacts to his
needs, no one responds. Everything has slipped out of reach.

Amharr has been pacing up and down this corridor for an
indefinite time, sometimes aware of himself, sometimes lost in Taryn's
awareness. Now he has stopped, and the Master Onryss has stopped above him.
They're locked in a dispassionate stare-down, in which only one party has
something to lose.

The fighting continues, everywhere else. Weapons are
firing, bodies are breaking, lives are seeping into the ever-greedy, soulless
mass of the vessel. Amharr feels it gorging and growing with each death, with
each creature sacrificing itself for the illusion of reign over it. Its
familiar, primitive presence stares back at him through the Onryss, waiting for
him to feed it as well.

Amharr smells Gra'Ylgam approaching. His gaze remains
locked on the Onryss, engrossed in the dullness of its greed.

"Dominant?"

He barely hears Gra'Ylgam over the noise in the back of
his mind—the noise of machines grinding through compacted sand and metal,
trying to reach Taryn.

"You're out of time," Gra'Ylgam says. "You
must decide now. Will you assume your new fate, or will you die here in vain
with the rest of us?"

Amharr inspects his old friend's reflection on the surface
of the Onryss, marveling at his altered features. Gra'Ylgam is already
transformed by his new power of command. Amharr has done an abnormal thing—the
right
thing—something no other Emranti has done. Just like the link.

"Dominant," Gra'Ylgam insists, touching his arm.

Amharr startles. His gaze unlocks from the Onryss, and his
senses seem to return. "Yes?"

"The Kolsamal have broken into the armory. They've
killed thirty-eight Emranti thus far, and lost one hundred seventy of their
own." Gra'Ylgam sounds almost proud. "They're increasingly well
organized. It won't be long until
all
the Emranti are dead, and they
assume control of the
Undawan
."

"They can never control it," Amharr says
wearily. "But
you
can."

Gra'Ylgam grunts. "You keep forgetting I am just one.
The Kolsamal no longer trust me, and the Emranti never have."

Amharr turns his attention back to the Onryss.

"A new formation of human ships approaches as
well." Gra'Ylgam comes to stand directly before Amharr, demanding his
whole attention. "We have entered their territory. Confrontation is
imminent. Everyone is an enemy now, and combat will swallow us all. You must
leave while you still can. Or you
will
die."

Amharr exhales deeply, and looks down at the floor licking
up his calves. Gra'Ylgam growls at his indifference. Grabs his left arm and
squeezes. "If you die, all hope of freedom dies with you. No one will
stand between us and the Raimerians. The Kolsamal, even victorious, will never
enjoy the spoils of their sacrifice. They will be slaughtered. Our entire race
will be annihilated in retribution. And the Raimerians won't stop at
their
treason. The High Emranti will pay for your deeds as well. As will the
humans."

"I can't oppose the Raimerians," Amharr says,
and for the first time looks straight into Gra'Ylgam's glowing eyes.

"You must try.
Someone
must."

"Your stubbornness is aggravating, old friend."

Gra'Ylgam clucks his tongue. "
She
will die
with you as well."

Amharr startles as if woken from a lazy daydream. His skin
ripples and aches, energy building inside him in painful bursts. "You
speak of resistance as if it were a real possibility; as if freedom is an
option for us. We'll never be free." He glares at the Onryss hovering
above him. "Not as long as even a single Raimerian exists."

"They are not indestructible. No being is."

"You don't comprehend their true power," Amharr
says. "You don't know what I know."

"I know
you
," Gra'Ylgam retorts. "I
see your strength, even if you don't. You are a new beginning, a chance to
change the fate of billions. But you must act."

Amharr's whole body is aglow with raw energy, nanites
frantically working, tendons, muscles, and nerves gradually dissolving under
the strain. He shudders violently, his spine and limbs bursting in white-hot
arcs.

"I know the Emranti cannot break free from the
Raimerians on their own," Gra'Ylgam says. "Just as metal cannot break
free from the pull of a magnet."

"And who will help me?" Amharr's voice thunders
between them. "
You
?"

"A stronger magnet."

Amharr's consciousness widens, relinquishing hold of his
body. Comprehension intoxicates his thoughts with maddening speed. His skin
flickers. He can barely summon the control to whisper, "
Thank you
,"
before he bursts into a brilliant spray of subatomic particles.

He seeps through the floor, and each floor after that,
slowed down by the
klaar
but never stopping. He unwillingly amasses some
of it, taking it along as he seeps through the
Undawan
's hull and out
into the bosom of space.

The Ticks pull me out of the wreckage, take me through
several security doors, and into a sort of tactical operations room. They force
me onto a table and turn on a large immobilizer to hold me in place. The device
spreads out its field, buzzing like an angry insect above my head. They have no
clue it's not working on me, or that the sedative they sprayed me with has
already worn off. But I'm still weakened by shock. I let them believe I'm
immobilized while I clear my head and gather my strength.

Jade's livid face keeps coming back to me. They shot him.
I hope for their fucking sake he's not dead. I hope he's somewhere nearby,
clinging to life. I'll come back for him.
I'll come back
!

But first I have to escape. Prevent the dome drop, at any
cost.

A tall man in a Commander's uniform approaches, and inspects
me with narrowed, violet eyes. "Welcome to Hades, Miss Nevala." He
stoops over me. "Thanks for sparing me the effort of bringing you
in."

Nevala
? The biochip Cris gave me, my provisional
tag. How odd that he lent me his own name as well. Isn't he afraid it'll be
tracked back to him? Maybe he doesn't care.

The Commander inspects my face carefully. I hold still, as
motionless as I can. From the corner of my eye I see three armed Ticks standing
at the ready. "Lower the field above her head," the Commander orders.
A Tick complies.

I blink cautiously, displaying my ability to move my face,
and take a deep breath.

"Good," the Commander says. "What is your
purpose on Hades, Miss Nevala?" I open my mouth, but can't think of a lie
quickly enough. "How did you manage to pass the patrols? In a Dart of all
things. I've never seen such maneuvers before. As a matter of fact, I'm pretty
sure a Dart is incapable of doing that."

"Got lucky, I guess."

He straightens up and looks at me with a devilish glint in
his eyes. "Before you waste my time, let's get a few things straight. I'm
well aware of your
secret
, Miss Nevala. I know you're carrying
uncatalogued alien RNA, and that you placed a call to Governor De Luca's
office, warning her about an impeding invasion."

I swallow. My mind is racing.

"Now, to get back to my initial question." He
lifts his chin. "Why were you in such a hurry to get here?"

Shit
. I look him in the eyes and sigh. I'm out of
options. "There's a meta-virus in Erano's CIS. It'll collapse the dome's
filament net at midnight—
tonight
—and destroy the city, killing everyone.
I came here to stop it."

He frowns. "What meta-virus?"

He's curious. That's good. Just
maybe
he'll listen.
"Someone with the registration code... FH-something-GEN2 injected this
virus. It can't be stopped from within Erano. Believe me, I tried. If we don't
get Hades' AIs to override the corrupted CIS somehow, the dome
will
fall. Millions of people! You have to help me stop it."

I can practically see the cogs turning in his head.
"FH..." His eyes widen.

"You know who it is?" I sit up without thinking,
anxious for an answer.

He nods, then realizes I've moved. "Officers! Strap
her down!"

"No, wait—"

A Tick removes the immobilizer, another shoves me back
down. The third grabs my feet. The Commander clasps his cold hand around my
wrist. "How did you do that?"

"Let me go and I'll tell you—after I save
Erano."

"You're not going anywhere. You're my best chance to
get ahead of that fucking psychopath Hurst—who's just taken everything I ever
wanted and
shat
on it at superluminal speed. He doesn't get to destroy
my
city!"

The Ticks strap me to the table with plastic cords. I
struggle in vain against their hold, only making the cords pull tighter.
Now
I'm immobilized. Anxiety quickly turns to panic.

What could I say to make the Commander release me? What
does he want, to rule over Erano? To get back at whoever Hurst is? To...

Wait. I remember
Hurst
.

He's that paranoid xenophobe who led the Raids on Maza.
Who killed the Dorylinae, my parents, thousands of people. The Slayer of Tau
Ceti. He must think aliens are involved in the fights of Erano, that's why he
wants to erase the city.

My heart hammers violently inside my chest. I struggle
against the restraints. "Let me go!"

"Be quiet." The Commander is pacing around the
room, gnawing at his lip. He orders one of the men away, then stares at me
fiercely.

"Commander, I just—"

"Shut
up
!"

The man comes back, dragging a hideous armchair behind
him. It's lined with various instruments and mechanical parts, wrapped in a carbon-coated
fiberglass harness.

The cords bite into my skin as I struggle against them,
unable to loosen them even a bit. My heart pounds loudly in my ears. My nerves
prickle dangerously.

The Commander pushes the other man aside, grabs the chair,
and pulls it up to the table. I stare at the fiendish contraption in horrified
expectation. Memories of previous captivity and torture return to me in a
sickening avalanche. Hot flashes run up and down my spine. My eyes widen, and
my vision expands.

"You don't have to do this," I say. "Listen
to me. Please."

The Commander ignores me. He picks up a mesh-helmet from
the back of the chair and places it on his head. He sits down and grabs the
sensor-padded armrests. One of the Ticks places a second helmet on my head. I
try to shake it off, but the electrode nippers already press against my skull
in a dozen places.

"Hand me the control, Bosco," the Commander
says. "I'll do this myself."

The man hands him a pad and the Commander attaches it to
his armrest. It beeps loudly and the chair starts to hum. I clench my jaw.

"Let's get to the bottom of this, Miss Nevala."
The Commander glares at me. "I'm dying to know why Hurst is so keen to get
his hands on you. I've no idea how to do this safely. But... as I don't plan to
hand you out to him anyway..." He inspects the command pad and grins.
"Whatever he wants from you, he'll have to get it from
me
."

"Wait, what—"

My helmet comes on and everything's bathed in painful
light. My scalp is crawling with electricity. I suddenly realize where I've
seen such helmets before: I'm on the slave end of a Nexus.

Amharr approaches the human system, blazing through the
darkness of space like a comet. He descends toward the moon, tearing through
every ship and forcefield in his path, feeding on the weapons fire he draws. He
slows down in a fiercely twisting spiral, and zeroes in on his target.

In a blinding explosion, he crashes into the structures
below, melting rock and metal and flesh alike. He coalesces amidst the flames,
reshapes himself and retakes his course, aiming to find her.

-

My mind is on fire. Everything is unbearably loud and
bright.

The Nexus crawler sifts through my brain triggering my
neurons at will. It analyzes patterns and stores everything, catalogs my
thoughts, maps out my memories, methodically dissecting my mind. Every thought
I have is immediately tapped into, every possible version of it inspected,
every connection explored, until no coherence remains.

It's indiscriminate and ruthless, and utterly indifferent.
Not like Amharr. There's no lustful hunger in it, no glorious pride, no joy.

Sharp pain stabs my head, and I remember: we are
connected, Amharr and I. We are two halves of the same unit, separated, stuck
in different worlds. We have become one, yet we are not together.

I'm here now. I'm alone. And I have failed.

And Amharr... What will happen to him—to our link? Will I
lose him?

I
can't
lose him.
No
!

I struggle to recollect in a corner of my mind, and zero
in on him—my last resort. I draw my strength from him, my determination, my
will to fight. Using every bit of clarity I can muster I focus on what's
happening to me right now: the Nexus; the TMC Commander hacking into my brain.

Revulsion bubbles up inside me. I can't let that bastard
break me. No fucking way.

I wrestle with the orchestrated chaos in my brain, and
push the crawler back. It adapts and tries to scramble me, but I shove harder
and faster, and swim up to reality again. My gaze meets the Commander's
startled face.

"What the fuck?" he blurts. "What are you
doing?"

Shuffling and frantic voices. Someone touches me. I grunt
and struggle to free myself. The straps around my wrists are slick with blood.
My whole body prickles sharply as the helmet's feedback crackles through me.

"Stop that!" the Commander shouts. "How the
hell did she do that? Get it back on. Turn this fucking thing back on—that's an
order."

"I can't, sir. It's an emergency reboot. I'd take the
helmet off if I were you."

"Goddammit!" Something metallic hits the floor.
Hands grab my throat. "How
the fuck
did you reject the Nexus?"

I strain my shoulders and press my chin down, trying to
fight his strangling grip.

"I saw some-
thing
inside your head." He
lets me go, disgusted. "What the hell was that?" I cough and gag, my
eyes swimming with tears. "Alien technology? A bionic device? One thing's
clear: you're either the most valuable thing in this system, or the most
dangerous."

"Or both," another man adds.

"No wonder Hurst wants her," the Commander says.
"But how does he know about the
thing
in her head? Does it have
anything to do with the Syndicate? Is she some sort of..." He stares at
me. "Are you a weapon?"

I stare back at him, squirming quietly in my straps. The
blood makes the cords slippery. I grind my teeth with every twist, but won't
stop.

My sense of Amharr's presence has weakened. It feels
somehow unreliable. I have difficulty focusing on it, almost as if the link has
been corrupted. Or interrupted.
Cut off
.

A man comes running in, panting heavily. "Sir, we
have an intruder."

The Commander barks questions at him while the others
fret.

I twist and writhe in my straps. What happened to the
link? Was it cut? Will I lose him? The plastic slides over my bleeding wounds,
slipping off.

"Something crashed into the station, in the H3
area," the man says. "We don't know what it was, but—"

"Get the situation under control, Sergeant.
Stat."

"We're trying, sir, but something's tearing through
the station and we can't—"

"Just get it done. I've got more important things to
deal with right now."

"Yes, sir."

My hands are free.

I rip the helmet off and bend over. Tear the straps off my
ankles with a violent rip. The Commander gapes, the others start toward me. I
jump off the table and bolt for the door.

"Stop!"

"Get her!"

I slip and stumble, and grab hold of a bulkhead. Hands
grapple for me. I turn and feint, then scramble away. There's a large server
block in the back of the room. Full of displays and dedicated consoles,
blinking with hundreds of lights. A narrow passage runs around it—a maintenance
slot for the techs.

A Tick lunges at me from behind, another from the left. I
duck and push off the wall, and slide around one's leg. The second man grabs me
by the shoulder and hair. I twist and tear myself free with a scream. I get
behind the server block, and squeeze into the passage.

A hand clutches my shoulder. I bite down hard, and squirm
away. The man curses and tries to punch me. The other kicks me in the side. I
groan and push further away, wedged in between the server block and the wall. I
turn and stare right into the Commander's gun.

One of the Ticks has wedged in behind me, and grabs me by
the throat. I choke and bite my tongue. My heart pumps liquid panic. My fingers
burn.

Kill them
.

Kill everyone
.

I press my hands against the server's back. Shudders run up
and down my spine. The hand around my neck lets go as if burned.

The Commander barks at the Tick behind me: "Hook her
up again. This time, keep her down."

I'm dragged out and carried off, strapped on the same
table and forced into the slave helmet again. Its nippers dig into the sore
spots on my scalp, my heart and mind drowning in sickening panic.

I've failed.

The virus... the people... my link to Amharr... All of it,
in vain.

The Commander puts his helmet on. "What are you
hiding in there? Elucidate this fucking mystery for me. Why's Hurst so
desperate to get—"

His voice is drowned out by a howling noise as the crawler
returns to dissect me. A hundred times fiercer than before.