"I see how you are," I said. "Messing with the new girl."
"You don't like it?"
Truthfully? I did.
My first view of Firstworld came at 3:17 a.m. Iceland time, though out here, there was probably no point in keeping track by that standard anymore. Nadim called me portside and in teasing increments opened the viewscreen. The relatively monochromatic hues of our local planets hadn't prepared me for the vibrant colors that swirled together on this planet like a sand painting. Violet, brown, deep green, and cerulean, all discernible from this distance, so it must be incredible on the ground.
"It's beautiful," I breathed.
"You'll need to wear scrubbers, as the atmosphere is mildly toxic to humans. And the vegetation grows on ultraviolet rays, hence the difference in coloration."
"Can we lose the lecture mode?" Teasing Nadim already came natural, but I was too enthralled to soak up all the information. I just wanted to gear up and get down there.
"Proceed to the docking bay," Nadim said. "I'm in stable orbit."
Bea met me there, vibrating with equal measures of nerves and excitement. She was already dressed, and she handed me the mission suit, much thinner and more formfitting than the old days. The fabric reminded me of a dolphin's skin, hard to describe, but I'd touched one at an aquarium over ten years ago. The suit's color was dark blue, nearly cobalt, but when I touched it, my fingers reacted with the surface, resulting in a kind of starfish ray effect. Startled, I almost dropped it.
She laughed. "Isn't it fascinating? It seems to be biosensitive, though I'm not sure if it's the heat or electromagnetic stimuli."
"Both," Nadim answered. "It can also blend with its surroundings, detect radiation, and the mask will purify the air so you can breathe it."
"Does it go over our clothes?"
"It's a skinsuit." That answer came from Bea.
Giving her a thumbs-up, because obviously she'd memorized all the manuals on our reading list that I'd ignored in favor of time in the combat sim, I stripped without a second of hesitation. No lie, it felt a little creepy as I pulled what amounted to a second skin over mine; it seemed to melt around me, for lack of a better description, until it fit to perfection. No denying that it felt like walking around naked, though, and that was both weird and strangely wonderful.
"It's nonconductive and offers a good amount of protection," Nadim added.
"Is it bulletproof? Laser resistant? What about--"
"Zara." Clearly he was ready to move on.
"Fine, I'm putting on my mask."
It adapted to my curls, shaping to my head naturally. I expected some vision impairment or a sense of claustrophobia, but I could see perfectly, just . . . not with my eyes. It was like there were tiny cameras all over, beaming information to my brain. Freaking disorienting, but after a few turns, I got the hang of insect vision. Gloves, check.
Fortunately, I got ass-kicking boots with weights in the heels instead of stilettos. Once I put those on we were good to go, and Bea had raced through her mission prep and was now bouncing beside the shuttle. I grabbed our gear bag, as we'd also be taking various readings on the surface in addition to visiting Nadim's so-called sites. Doing the Leviathan's scientific measurements for their records.
We were going to see alien ruins. If I'd said that six months ago, squatting over a meal of street food in a ruined building in the Zone . . . Well. I'd have either been laughed out of the neighborhood or checked into Benny's for a psych eval.
"This might be a dumb question. . . ."
"There are no dumb questions, Zara," Nadim said.
"Really? That's not what my fifth-grade teacher said."
The pause told me he wasn't sure how to respond to that. "Whatever it is, ask."
"Are you going with us?"
"I can't enter the atmosphere. Gravity would crush me, culminating in lethal impact. That's why we have shuttles, Zara."
"Shit. No. I mean . . . I want you to see what we're seeing." It wouldn't be the same to try and describe things to him on comms. Besides, I also wanted his company, but I couldn't just say so.
Bea beckoned to me, eyes shining. "Hurry up!"
I held up one finger, telling her to wait. Nadim still hadn't responded, which made me think this was a weird request. All the other Honors really did treat him like a thing, huh? It was impossible for me to wrap my head around that because he was so much of a person that I had a hard time focusing on anybody else if I had even a glimmer of his attention.
"That is an unusual request. We can communicate through the shuttle comm. But . . ."
"You know what I'm asking. There's no way to jury-rig something so you can, ah, come down with us? See what we see?"
After a little more hesitation, he said, "You can attach a remote unit to your skinsuit."
Bea came over to investigate the holdup, and she helped me with the installation. "This . . . and . . . here we go."
Half an hour later, presto--Nadim-mobile.
He was weirdly quiet, and I didn't know why. Bea powered up the Hopper--what I called the frog-like short-flight craft reserved for planetary excursions. Human tech for the interior, Leviathan biotech for the exterior. She'd done better than me in navigation and piloting, and there was always the auto-nav if she got in trouble. Theoretically, we should be fine. Still, a frisson of fear-excitement (fearcitement?) jolted over me.
"Good to go?"
Once she checked all the instruments and we strapped in, she got us in motion, not perfection but smooth enough for her first flight. Nadim opened the hatch; then we were away, swooping out of him and yet still with him. That was the best part.
Finally, he spoke. "I've never seen myself before. Not like this."
"What?"
"The attachment to your skinsuit . . . I can see myself with your eyes." He expressed a strange mix of delight and horror. I made sure to linger as we flew past. He should get a good look from head to tail.
"Nobody ever did this for you?" I'd suspected.
"No. Both you and Beatriz talk to me more than other Honors. The rest were content to complete their checklists, they never really thought of including me. They never thought to be so . . . interactive. This is unsettling. I'm here . . . and there also."
"If it feels too weird or distracting . . ." I started.
"It's just new. I know you will disengage if I ask."
That much trust did funny things to my stomach. So I just nodded and held on as Bea figured out how to compensate for gravitational pull, lift and thrust, X and Y axes. With some help from the auto-nav, she nailed entry and pulled up just a little rough, so my lunch rolled around but didn't come up.
"Great job, Bea. You okay?"
"A little shaky. That was a lot of pressure. The only reason I didn't panic was because I knew we had a fail-safe."
She set the Hopper down in a field of golden grass. Okay, maybe that was the wrong word since this was tall and frond-y, but it was the closest equivalent I had. The thrusters burned a circle, and I imagined natives venturing out to marvel at the pattern once we took off. Wait, no, Nadim said there's nobody here, not anymore.
There should be fanfare for a moment like this, flags to plant, but Bea just opened the doors and we popped out. Despite the mask, the filtered air still carried the acrid tang of whatever was making it toxic. I snagged the gear bag and got out my scanner, which told me the exact components of the gas. Methane, hydrogen, right. I could have probably brought along logs that gave statistics on the ranges that were normal for Firstworld. I'd transcribe readings when we got back.
Bea bounced a little on her feet. "That's not grass. This isn't air."
I sucked in one processed breath, two, and took an experimental step. This was light gravity compared to Earth, so even with my weighted boots, I bounced like the dirt was half trampoline. A shriek escaped me as I came down, and then I heard Nadim laughing. Though I couldn't sense his joy, just hearing it felt like eating an ice cream cone.
"Th
is is amazing." I shout-sang it.
For a while, we played, but eventually we got down to business and took our readings. Bea dictated detailed holos and notes on flora into her mini-H2 while I handled the mineral samples. We were supposed to collect these and log them, compare to stuff that had been hauled in before, with the goal of seeing how long it would take for the planet to return to the state they'd recorded before the war. Sounded boring, but I found some real interest in it; being an alien geologist pretty much rocked. Pun intended.
Now and then Nadim offered commentary on things that puzzled us, and our progress took us across an open field toward the ruins that rose like jagged teeth in the distance. With my eyes half-closed, I could almost, almost imagine the disaster that had shattered what might have been a temple or a coliseum.
We were nearly there when I heard it--the sound of footsteps behind us. I didn't hesitate. In an instant, I had a weapon in my hand. Whirling, I took aim at the blur of motion.
"Don't!" Nadim called out.
And I froze, caught between his urgency and my fight instincts. I'd never backed down in my life.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Breaking Silence
THERE WAS NOBODY behind me. Nothing at all.
"Please don't discharge your weapon. You might disturb the native fauna." Nadim's tone all wrong, too anxious, too urgent.
But I knew damn well I hadn't imagined somebody behind me.
The wind whispered through my skinsuit mask, tanged with the alien mix of gases. I scanned twice, once with my eyes and next with my equipment. No signs of life popped on the screen and I lowered the weapon. I didn't put it away.
Beatriz patted my shoulder as she set off toward the ruins. "I never expected you to be jumping at shadows, Z."
"You're hilarious," I mumbled.
In my mind's eye, I tried to process what I'd seen, but it had happened so fast. Nadim said there was no intelligent life, but Earth-wise, the lines got blurry around whale and chimpanzee. Could be that Firstworld had some native creatures, big enough to shake me. Whatever it was, it didn't want to get close to us, which did suggest wildlife. Yet--
"Nadim," I said, low. "Come on, tell me the truth."
"It was nothing." Clearly he didn't want to have this conversation dirtside. Damn, but I was getting tired of secrets. I wanted to trust him, but it was getting harder. Our connection couldn't change the fact that I'd seen something, and he wasn't going to talk me out of it.
My skin crawled the whole time we trekked through the golden grass; the suits we wore shifted to a lazy whisper of colors that blended perfectly, but I could still feel someone watching, and it wasn't Nadim. I kept turning and scanning behind me, searching for any sign of trouble.
I didn't see anything. Just the alien plants bending in the breeze.
I'd had this exact feeling in the Zone when somebody was trying to decide whether to start some shit or not. No matter which way I looked, I saw only alien landscape, painted in unnatural colors. And then it occurred to me . . . What if what's watching us blends in too? Like our skinsuits? The thought pulled my muscles tight and my nerves even tighter. If there was something out here, I needed to be ready. I couldn't let anything happen to Beatriz.
She pointed things out, and I kept nodding, but my attention was on the perimeter, scanning like a bot on patrol. Every so often, she paused to collect samples of plants. I did the same with minerals, but only because Nadim kept murmuring that I had a job to do. The dirt was an interesting mix of colors that probably told a fascinating story to somebody who knew more. I'd analyze it back aboard and let our equipment do the heavy lifting for some professor in Paradise to delight over once the digital information reached his desk.
It occurred to me that where humanity had, back in its late golden days, sent out machines to other planets to drill core samples and wander the landscape of another world . . . that was us now. We were humanity's arms and legs and eyes, but only partly its brain.
I didn't much enjoy the comparison.
Since the ruins were the only landmark, it was impossible to get lost. As we approached, the jagged stone teeth resolved into broken pillars, cut from some mineral that shimmered blue-black against the smooth surface of what might have been a raised platform. Red and brown earth filmed the steps leading up to the monument, but I didn't miss the fact that there were lines in that dust. Not footprints like a human would leave, but some strange thing had moved through here, not long ago. That put me on guard, again, and I faced back out, watching for anything that wanted to come at us.
"Look at the carvings, the bas relief, and the . . . what is this? Is it writing?" Bea peppered Nadim with questions, breaking the uneasy silence. I glanced back at the pillar she was scrutinizing. It did look like writing, all swirls and dots, but it could just as easily be decorative.
As usual, Bea was right, because Nadim said, "Yes. I have translations if you're interested."
"Of course!" I couldn't see her face under the mask, but the tone left no room for doubt that she had lit up like New Year's Eve.
"Please understand, this is imprecise, as it has been shifted through many languages. 'Here we sing to the stars. Deep in the dreaming, we have come and gone for many evers. Until the joining. Until journey's end. Sing back to us when you come, so that we may know the silence is never eternal. Our sun, your stars, their gods, they have sailed in other skins, far beyond the dark and into the hollow, where all light sleeps.'"
As he spoke, I had an eerie kind of vision. I had no idea what this alien race had looked like, so my imagination put them in robes, all gathered in a circle while they chanted beneath strange and forlorn stars. Firstworld had a sky utterly unlike Earth's, radiant with colors we got only at sunrise and sunset. A permanent aurora borealis streaking the sky, and a world full of life and color and desolation.
For some reason, a little shiver went through me, as if Nadim had incanted a magic spell. The superstitious kid in me expected a puff of purple smoke and a dragon or a demon to appear. But there was only the disquieting wind, whipping over me in greater gusts, so that the golden fronds in the distance bent nearly double as if performing reluctant obeisance. We stood for a moment in silence, and then Bea dropped to her knees. Normally, I wasn't the reverent type, but it seemed wrong not to do likewise.
"I don't know what that means, exactly," she whispered. "But I feel it. Zara?"
"Me too." I wasn't sure what was happening here, and it made me both wary and entranced. But there was something still in this world. A memory, maybe.
She bowed her head first. I followed suit. Then she astonished me by lifting her voice, doing exactly as the writing said. I was no singer, but I tried to follow, offering lower tones to harmonize with her gorgeous soprano. And her voice echoed, swelling in the crystals that remained in the shattered columns. Flickers of light pinged back and forth, trying to send a signal, trying and failing, but dear God, it was exquisite, with streaks of light trembling in the heart of stone. Something in the air changed--charged--and it raised all the hair on the back of my neck, like being trapped in a lightning storm. Even the scent of the breeze changed, that smell of electricity burning up the air.
When our voices fell quiet and the glow died, the silence stretched and stretched, paper thin, then a filament of spider-silk, broken at last by Nadim, in a lovely, shattered tone. "I have never seen this. This has never happened before."
"Really?" I got to my feet and dusted off my knees.
"There have been no lights on Firstworld since . . ." In his silence I sensed uncertainty, a span of time so long that it was impossible to estimate without carbon dating, maybe. "I've heard stories. . . . The whole world used to shine, sparking one stone to another. It was one reason why my people came here. For the songs."
I nudged Bea. "You did this. How incredible are you?"
By her tone, I guessed she must be hot-cheeked beneath her mask. "I only did what they asked. Anybody could do it."
But if th
e other Honors hadn't brought Nadim along, they might not have had the translation. Even if they had read it, I had a hard time imagining hardcore science types singing to a bunch of ruined rock.
Their loss.
The light was dwindling by then, the violent colors fading to pastels that passed for night on Firstworld. Though we had climate control in our skinsuits, I had no desire to test out how good it was under extreme temperatures. Or to be out here in the dark. Now that the awe had faded, my paranoia was creeping back.
"We should wrap it up and get out of here," I said.
There were no arguments; as gorgeous as that display had been, there'd been something eerie about it too. Like ghosts whispering across time. We didn't speak on the way back to the Hopper. Beatriz seemed to be thinking about her impromptu performance while Nadim had to be trying to decide how to explain away what I'd seen in the fern meadow. I didn't intend to give him a chance to bullshit me.
As Bea booted up the ship, I asked, "Do we have enough fuel for one last sweep?" The Hopper could hover like a beast, and I was curious enough to ask.
"Definitely. Cells at eighty-four percent," she said after checking. "But what are you looking for?"
"Just checking out the view."
And searching for aliens.
We skimmed over the ground, and I peered hard at the changing landscape. Just before the grassland yielded to what would be considered forest on Earth--though these were weird-ass, almost sentient-seeming trees that looked like mushrooms, fleshy and leafy at once--I saw it. Bea didn't spot the dark patch hidden by waving fronds, but it was similar to the circle our thrusters had made. I didn't mention it. But I felt a hot little burn of confirmation.
Native wildlife, my ass. Somebody else was here. If it was another Leviathan crew, I'd almost shot another Honor.
Shouldn't have been sneaking up on us, then.
I said, "Okay, let's go. I'm good."
"Thank you for taking me with you to the surface," Nadim said, gentle and uncertain. "I have much to consider."
Like how to handle me.
This time, I didn't attempt to talk to him about it, which probably made him wonder what was up. When we returned, I was meticulous about putting the samples away and replacing my gear, once I'd cleaned it properly. Then I went to my quarters for a shower. I was hungry too, but this conversation would go better if we had it in private.