The Unfinished World (The Armor of God Book 2) (10 page)

“Look at this,” she whispered, and wasn’t sure if the words were meant for him. “The Apse is completely different—there is no Egg, it’s just—”

This was dangerous business. Ezra started remembering all the horror stories he was told about Milos Ravana before Akiva was matched to it. Before Zenith developed the protocol to find and determine matching pilots, lives were lost—and four of them by Milos Ravana’s hand. The powerful Creux which had gained the status of monster in Zenith did not even have to move to kill the invaders; it had just rejected four possible pilots, liquefying them—boiling them alive inside the Egg and leaving nothing but shreds of meat and cloth.

And just as he began to feel that horrible nausea, remembering the deadly process known in Zenith as Assimilation, Garros climbed the last step to join him—

Just in time see Erin fall into the light inside of Lazarus.

The doors of the Apse closed, leaving behind only the echoes of her horrified scream, lost to the dark forest.

ф

Vivian had never been inside a dormitory that wasn’t her own.

She used to picture a beautiful future in which she’d become the Leader of the Creux Defense Squad, and even in those fantasies, the concept of being inside another pilot’s sleeping quarters seemed ridiculous. Why would she need to ever do such a thing?

As it turned out, the reason was to have a talk with another pilot’s crewmember, whom she couldn’t meet elsewhere, and request her help.

Rebecca Miles, a former crewmember of Absolute Omega, was also the only member of the Creux’s team that was still alive. Omega’s pilot and the former CDSL, Alice Nolan, had died in an explosion that took three more lives: two crewmembers, and Corporal Susan Higgins—the only person with whom Vivian had ever made a significant connection since joining the army. Of course she had become close to Director Blanchard and General Adams, but Susan could understand Vivian in ways no one else had before, or since.

Rebecca had been suffering from depression (and what Dr. Logan had recognized as survivor’s guilt) for months. It wasn’t until she found a new purpose as a crewmember to Jed Townsend’s Nebula 09 that she slowly recovered her will to live.

To remain.

“I really don’t want to look into it any more, Vivian,” said Rebecca.

“I understand, and I’m sorry for even asking,” she said. “I just want you to help me understand a few things. It’s important. What happened with Absolute Omega was when things began to go wrong in here. I promise I only need your help with this, and I won’t bother you ever again.”

Rebecca looked around the room, colored in green and blue. “You know—being here makes me feel a little safer,” said Rebecca. “At least now I don’t have to see Absolute Omega in every corner.”

Vivian didn’t reply.

“General Adams really thinks Proposition Tomorrow is a lost cause?”

“That’s what she told me,” said Vivian. “She says there is a traitor in Zenith.”

“There was, but she is dead,” Rebecca said. “Tessa killed her.”

“I know Kat is dead. It’s someone else, and what’s worse is that I can’t figure out why anyone would want to sabotage us,” Vivian said. “But someone told Heath about Kat, about what happened when Ezra left. I want to find him or her; stopping any further attacks on us is the only way I can think that can save Zenith. And . . . even if they close this place, I want to at least know who’s to blame.”

“Ezra Blanchard is to blame,” Rebecca said, and Vivian could hear bitterness in Rebecca’s voice; Ezra Blanchard’s name was sour in her tongue, and she didn’t blame her. “If Zenith is shut down, I’ll be out of a job again, and I don’t want to go back to the army; I worked hard to be placed in Zenith, I still have things I want to do—I want to see Nebula functional again, help Jed get better.”

It was like Rebecca truly believed Roue wouldn’t last much longer without the protection of the Creux. If the creature that had birthed the Laani returned to its original self, it would crush the city in one fell swoop.

At least that’s what Director Blanchard believed.

“I could really use your help with this, Rebecca. I promise I’ll let you focus on your new job afterwards. I still doubt that Alice lost control of Absolute Omega. Something else happened the day of the test. I know a part of you agrees,” she said. “The docking chambers are closed until Roue votes for Proposition Tomorrow; this is my chance to look at the records of that test more closely, and I need someone who can operate the computers, who has access to them.” She gathered her courage to speak again. “And I—I think it might give you some closure, to understand exactly what happened that day.”

Rebecca looked away from Vivian, and then nodded. “Stop, I don’t need to hear any more about Alice. I’ll help you now, but I want you to know it’s the last time I want to hear anything about Absolute Omega. It’s something I’m trying to put behind me. Do you understand?”

“Yes. This will be the last time this bothers you; I promise,” said Vivian.

She hated to sneak around and break the rules, but it became marginally easier when Zenith was so empty. Vivian wondered if some employees had already been transferred back to Roue, because when she and Rebecca made their way from the dormitories to the compatibility labs, there were very few signs of life within the complex.

The compatibility labs themselves seemed particularly lifeless—it was the first time she walked into the chamber and it was completely silent, lacking the buzzing of live machinery that normally underscored it.

“I was afraid of this,” said Rebecca, walking toward the door leading to the docking chambers.

It was closed. It was locked.

“We don’t have access to the chambers. What’s your plan?”

“I—I don’t know,” said Vivian, embarrassed; she should have prepared better before getting Rebecca involved. If she had obtained any authority in her eyes, it wouldn’t last long.

“Poole—Vivian Poole. Rose Xibalba. Support Class,” a third voice flooded the room through speakers.

Vivian turned around; the chamber was still empty. She walked to the center of the labs and looked up at the window a few feet above, at the observation deck where the crew operated the equipment. There was a woman standing there; Vivian could see her outline in the opaque glass.

The voice spoke again through loud speakers “What are you doing here?”

“Hello?” she said out loud. “Who’s there?”

There was no answer. The shadow disappeared from the window, and a few seconds later, a familiar face emerged into the labs from a door so well hidden, Vivian had never even noticed it.

It was Dr. Mizrahi, one of the directors of Zenith, and a woman of questionable sanity whom Vivian hadn’t seen in many days. “Vivian Poole? What are you doing in here?”

“Dr. Mizrahi,” she said, feeling like a criminal caught in the act. “I just—uh, I wanted to go look for something in the docking chambers,” she said stupidly, wishing Rebecca would help her fabrication, but she didn’t appear to be interested enough.

“In the docking chambers? Did you forget something?” said the woman. She had a strange way of speaking, indeed of thinking, and it had always frustrated Vivian, especially during classes when she was the instructor.

Dr. Mizrahi didn’t wait for an answer to her question; she walked to the door and pressed a white keycard against a small scanner. The door slid open, and the dark empty passage leading to the docking chambers was revealed.

The woman looked at Vivian. “I hope you find what you’re looking for,” she said, and winked (though it might have been an involuntary spasm; Vivian couldn’t tell with her). “I have work to do. Excuse me. Poole. Corporal Miles. Nebula’s colors suit you. You look well. Be well.”

She returned to the room above the labs.

“There’s something about that woman,” said Rebecca after a moment of silence. “She’s brilliant, but a few clowns short of a circus.”

“I am no such thing,” came Dr. Mizrahi’s voice through the speakers. Vivian didn’t even see Rebecca’s reaction; she almost dissolved into the darkness of the hallway, too embarrassed to remain within Mizrahi’s eyeshot.

Rebecca was still red in the face when they walked past the first few chambers: Docking Chamber 04. It used to be Jena’s.

Though Jade Arjuna was a thousand miles away, the decal with the Creux’s insignia remained on the door. It was beautiful; though happy with her Creux, Vivian had always secretly envied Jena for being paired with one as graceful and strong as Jade Arjuna.

“This is the first time I’ve been here since that day. Wow. They didn’t even get to finish reconstructing the wing,” Rebecca said. The far end of the hallway was still cut off by yellow tape, and though the basic aspects of the structure had been rebuilt after the explosion destroyed it, it was by no means fully restored.

Vivian gave Rebecca a moment to let the sight wash over her, and waited when she decided to slip past the yellow tape and into the new segment of the hallway, where there was very little light.

The grieving woman took careful, quiet steps, and didn’t stop until she was standing in front of the door that had once led to Absolute Omega’s docking chamber. From a distance, Vivian saw her open the door, and shake her head at what she saw inside.

Vivian walked back to her own Creux’s chamber to stare at its insignia on the door, when a shadow moved in the corner of her eye. Vivian barely saw someone standing at the end of the hallway, near the door back to the labs. “Hello? Dr. Mizrahi?”

There was no answer, and her heart skipped a beat when she turned again to find Rebecca right back next to her. “Did you see someone?” she asked.

“I’m not sure. Are you all right?” asked Vivian.

“I feel like whatever you’re looking for was probably stored in the computers of Omega’s chamber. Nothing’s left in there.”

“Alice was screaming Akiva’s name,” Vivian said, and immediately regretted the lack of tact, a trait of hers she had recently been trying to get rid of. Rebecca didn’t need to know the details of Alice’s death; being in this hallway was difficult enough already. “I wanted to try the computers in Milos Ravana’s chamber.”

Rebecca nodded, and walked almost all the way back to the labs, to chamber 08.

Had they stopped for a moment in chamber 12, they would’ve seen a blinking red light: an incoming message sent by Erin from a remote beacon bearing a crucial warning.

The docking chamber for Milos Ravana was no different to any of the others. There was a window overlooking the massive docking bay, large panels that would display vital Creux and pilot information, and a space in the corner for the Synchronization Capsule.

Of course, there was no Capsule, and Milos Ravana’s intimidating gaze would not be met if one looked out the window. The Armor of God was hundreds, maybe thousands, of miles away.

At first, Rebecca seemed reluctant to work on the computers, as if she was not comfortable with such a breach in protocol. Vivian felt guilty in coercing her, but seeing her work through the complicated interface of the docking computers assured her she would have never been able to do it by herself.

And of course, her pilot’s access card did not have clearance to even boot up the computers.

More than once, Rebecca would mutter words of surprise and disbelief—the data on the screens confirmed just how strong Milos Ravana was, even when compared to a Creux like Absolute Omega.

“The computers don’t keep these records forever. A few more days and any information left behind from that day that wasn’t backed up would’ve been lost,” said Rebecca. “Look. The synchronization event is tagged AOGTST05. Heh. They really only did care about Milos, didn’t they?”

The significance of the tag was lost in Vivian, so she said nothing, and walked closer to the screens to see if she could understand some of the data being displayed. Framed by dozens of lines of undecipherable code, there were diamonds of different colors connected to each other by blue threads, each identified with a short three-cypher code.

That, she could understand: the diamond marked C02 represented Milos Ravana. C14 was Absolute Omega. C15, Rose Xibalba, her own Creux. Finally, C21 and C22: Besoe Nandi and Jade Arjuna respectively.

“Everything looks normal,” said Rebecca.

“What are the blue threads?”

“Those represent the aural links. There was a network open so you could all hear each other,” Rebecca explained.

“What about the red one?”

“What red one?”

Vivian pointed at a single red line connecting Milos Ravana and Absolute Omega. Rebecca looked at it like she hadn’t even noticed it. She frowned. “That wasn’t there a moment ago.”

She used the computer again, and Vivian saw the diagrams on the screen shift, appear, and disappear. She was good at abstracting and extrapolating information, and quickly understood: she was looking at an animated timeline of the synchronization event. The diamonds began to appear as the Creuxen were activated, changed color as the pilots synchronized, and finally blue lines appeared one by one as the links were set up among them.

Then at the end, the red line appeared again. It was only for a second.

“What does that red line mean? Rebecca?” Vivian asked, and she knew they had stumbled upon something important when she finally saw Rebecca’s face, her eyes staring at the screen in disbelief.