Cytonic (The Skyward Series Book 3)

“All right,” I said as we started across the desert. “First question. How can this place be the nowhere? I’ve been in the nowhere before during hyperjumps. I think I’d remember flying chunks of stone and monsters with teeth in their noses.”

“An astute observation. What you experienced before is the inside of the lightburst.” Chet spun around, both arms extended as he walked. “We are outside it now—in the belt, which is a boundary area. Things of our world—like time, individuality, matter itself—have leaked into the belt. Like how you get brackish water between an ocean and a river.”

“I’ve…never seen an ocean,” I said.

“Tragic!” he said. “Perhaps imagine two countries next to one another. Over time, the people living near the border might pick up the other country’s language. Start to practice some of its habits, customs, traditions. Well, that’s the belt: the part of the nowhere that abuts the somewhere—the ordinary universe—so has some of the same rules. Those who tossed you in here didn’t warn you?”

“I wasn’t thrown in,” I said. “I jumped in on purpose. To escape being captured.”

“Some might call that extreme,” Chet said.

“It was my warrior’s duty,” I explained, “to avoid capture, so that I could not be tortured into betraying my friends.”

Chet grinned. “I like the way you think, young woman. Honor, valor. From those I’ve met in here over recent years, I worried such ideals had been lost!”

“There is this galactic empire,” I told him, “called the Superiority. They…have a different perspective on battle.”

“I know the Superiority,” Chet said. “They have a large base in here for extracting acclivity stone.”

“And so they must get the stone out,” I said.

“Yes, but the only active portals for that are operated by the Superiority,” Chet explained. “From what I know of them, they are unlikely to allow access. They seem a rather controlling bunch, led by…some unsavory individuals.”

“They’re absolute jerks,” I agreed. The word made me sentimental and think of Jorgen. It was a stupid reaction, but it felt like years since I’d last heard his earnest voice.

I’d almost been able to go back to that. Instead I’d come here—a decision I desperately hoped was the correct one.

Please, Jorgen, I thought, stay safe. And be smarter than I’ve been.

Chet snapped a branch off a nearby dried-out shrub, and we stopped walking for a moment as he drew a wide circle in the sand, with a smaller circle at the center.

“Imagine this as the nowhere,” he said. “The lightburst is this circle at the center. All of this larger portion is the belt—where the fragments float. I’ve always thought it resembled a sunny-side-up egg, the yolk being the lightburst and the white being all the fragments.”

“Got it,” I said. “Where are we?”

“Right at the edge,” he said, stabbing the stick at the very rim of the drawing. “This is pirate territory. Specifically, we’re in the region claimed by the Cannonade Faction, near the border of Broadsider Faction territory. That’s where we can start the Path of Elders.”

“Which is…”

“When people come into the nowhere, they leave an impression,” he explained. “Memories, embedded into the stone of the portals. You can view these—and a long time ago, some cytonics organized a few of the portals into a kind of narrative. One walks the Path of Elders to see firsthand the lore of the ancient cytonics.” He hesitated. “I’ve never done it, but it supposedly requires you to travel all the way inward to the lightburst.”

I turned toward the enormous glowing sphere. “That…seems like quite a distance.”

“It’s a trip of roughly fifty thousand klicks.”

That was a daunting distance. Even in a Poco starfighter at full speed, it was a trip that would take many hours. On foot… Well, scud. We were talking years.

“So,” I said, “we really are going to have to find a way to steal a ship.”

“I’m looking forward to it!” Chet said.

“I’ll try not to distract us by going the other direction this time.”

“You made the correct choice,” he said. “Reality icons are worth more than ships. Unfortunately, I fear that even with a ship our journey will be difficult.” He drew a little more on his map of the nowhere. “I know where the Path of Elders starts—here in the rim, inside Broadsider territory. I can get us there. But to get any farther inward, we’re going to have to move through Superiority territory, which will be very difficult. They have long-range scanners and dozens of starfighters. If we try to fly through, they’re likely to intercept us.”

“I’m pretty handy with a starfighter,” I said.

“Well, I’m excited to see you fly, then!” he said. “The Superiority forces aren’t the best pilots. In fact, everyone in here tends to be people the Superiority forced in. Not all are exiles, but the workers are pressured into their jobs at the acclivity stone quarries at their base, Surehold.

“Most of the pirates are miners who have defected. The entire place is a mess, Spensa Nightshade. Full of desperate people trying to survive. To move inward along the Path, we’re going to have to sneak past them all. And then… Well, if we have to approach the lightburst, it’s going to get even worse.”

He pointed at the remainder of the space, past Superiority territory, inward toward the lightburst. “This is No Man’s Land. The fragments are more stable through this section, with less bumping or colliding. But this is delver territory.”

“Isn’t all of the nowhere delver territory?” I asked.

“Yes and no,” he said. “Out here in the belt, things are too much like the somewhere for them. They can’t see into this region well, and you can hide from them here. But if you get into No Man’s Land…well, it will be impossible to avoid their attention. I’ve heard of pilots in No Man’s Land seeing things that aren’t real. Or crumbling to dust.”

I thought it through, surveying the crude drawing. M-Bot hovered over, inspected it, and took a picture.

“What’s to the far right?” I said, pointing. “And the far left? Can you go all the way around?”

“Possibly,” Chet said, “but in those directions there are large expanses with no fragments. Empty sections are dangerous to cross, even with a ship. But the Path of Elders is forward, not to the sides. Still determined to walk it?”

“Absolutely,” I said.

“That’s the spirit!” he said, standing.

“Once we do all this, there will still be one problem,” I said. “I’ll need to get home. If the Superiority doesn’t let me use their portals, then what?”

“Well…” Chet said. “Theoretically there’s a way out. A quite simple one.” He turned and looked toward the lightburst.

Right. That was the center of the nowhere—the place where I traveled when I hyperjumped. “If I get into the lightburst, I can jump home?”

“I believe so,” he said. “I’ve never dared get close enough. But it should work—it’s like a giant portal between dimensions, after all. I’ll admit, though, the lightburst intimidates me. Inside, there is no time. There is no place. It’s like…a single point somehow as vast as a universe.”

Scud, that broke my brain to think about. I took a deep breath. “Let’s get on the Path first.”

“Onward we go, then!” He pointed with his stick, like some general with a sword. “We’ll need to cross eight fragments to get to where the Path starts. But in relative terms, that’s right round the corner!”

We continued across the sand, and M-Bot went hovering off to investigate some of the local plants. Just walking was harder to do than I’d imagined. It took extra effort to move when the ground kept shifting beneath you. Yet I was excited. This was all so new, so interesting.

I fished in my pocket and brought out my father’s pin. I felt…serenity, having it in my hand. How odd.

Chet eyed it as he had before. Hungry. As if he physically couldn’t tear his eyes away from it. I trusted him well enough, but…well, that hunger made me tuck the icon away. Instead I brought out one of the reality ashes and handed it to him. It was merely a speck, but he took it reverently and tucked it into a pouch from his pocket. Then he held that pouch, breathing in and out, and visibly relaxed.

“You said people lose themselves in here without those,” I said. “Is that what was happening to that burl? The pirate whose face was…melting?”

Chet shook his head. “I don’t know what that was. It felt like something far worse. Like…”

“A delver was possessing her.”

“Indeed. I normally enjoy new and exciting events, yet I would not wish to repeat that one! But thank you for the ash. It is…comforting to hold.”

There was a haunting tone to his voice. “Do…you remember anything of who you were?” I asked. “Before?”

“No,” he whispered. “I have forgotten myself entirely. I remember some few things about the last few days before I entered—some caverns, and old ruins—but that time is so vague to me. Even my early days in here are fuzzy. That’s not surprising, I confess. I’ve been here a long time—almost two centuries, I think!”

“Wait, two hundred years?” I asked.

“Well, around a hundred and seventy,” he replied. “Best I can count. Time is hard to track in here, but I wrote down the date—and have been able to confirm it a few times in order to help me keep track. Yet I haven’t aged a single day.

“I haven’t always been able to get ashes, so during those times I took work for one group or another, since people staying together can replicate the effect of ashes.”

I found it daunting to think about what had happened to Chet. If I stayed too long, would I forget Gran-Gran? My father? My friends? Scud, I needed some time to process that.

Unfortunately, M-Bot chose that moment to come hovering up, jabbering excitedly. “Did you see those things over there, Spensa? Those are cacti! They’re so beautiful. Is it normal to see something like that, and feel so overwhelmed? I…I want to write poetry about how pretty they are.”

“Uh…” I said.

“Cacti are so neat, they make me want to dance. Is that a good poem? Will you rate it on a scale of one to ten?”

“Poems don’t deserve numbers, M-Bot. But if you like it, then it’s wonderful.”

“Great! Let’s see what my rhythm and rhyme analysis protocols say… Oh, Spensa. That’s a terrible poem. You should be ashamed for liking it. You know, ‘cacti’ is such a funny word. I think ‘cactuses’ would have been less funny, don’t you? And easier to rhyme?”

I just wanted a break right now—though I loved the robot, he could be a bit much. “Hey, I think I saw a mushroom,” I said, pointing.

“What, really?” he said. “Where!”

“Between those two bushes over there, in the distance.”

He zoomed off. I found myself thinking about what Chet had said about his age. Two hundred years?

“So…are we immortal in here?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “And I think my not-aging might be due to my powers. Other people do age, and unfortunately, ordinary wounds can still kill us. But our biological functions are odd. You won’t need food in here, for instance—and after a few days you won’t even need water. We do need to sleep, but it doesn’t seem to be required as often.

“Night never falls. The lightburst doesn’t move. And the longer you stay, the more the passage of time will all blend together. Days. Weeks. Years. Centuries…” He shook his head.

“I’ll admit,” I said, “I’m starting to feel a little tired. It’s been…kind of a long day for me.”

“Well, then!” he said. “There is some shelter farther along this fragment! I suggest we take a break there.”

We’d walked for another few minutes when M-Bot came zipping back up. “You didn’t see a mushroom, did you?” he demanded.

“No,” I said. “Just wanted to distract you.”

“Why would you do that?”

I shrugged, not wanting to explain. “It’s a joke humans sometimes play. You trick someone by sending them on a meaningless chase.”

“What a terrible joke. Scanning culture databases. Oh. It’s called ‘made you look.’ What an original name. Your kind has a terrible sense of humor, something I can authentically say now, as I am truly alive. But your prank is not important. It occurred to me that cacti are desert mushrooms. They look kind of the same. And act kind of the same. Except for the whole ‘living in an arid location’ part, which would kill most mushrooms…”

Great. After walking a little farther we crested a small dune, and Chet pointed ahead. “See those hills?” he asked.

I picked out some rocky chunks rising from the desert.

“That will be our housing for the ‘night,’ ” Chet explained. “I’ll jog on ahead to secure it and be certain the cave there is safe. Join me at your own speed! You’re looking a little run-down, but certainly with good reason!”

I nodded, grateful as he jogged off. Once, I might have been angry at the implication I was too weak—but he had a lot of experience in this place, and I had practically none. I was woman enough to admit that pushing myself now was a bad idea.

So I followed at a slower pace, M-Bot at my side. “M-Bot,” I said, something occurring to me, “you got a historical database from Superiority records, right?”

“Sure did!” he said. “I had to dump a lot of it, but I kept many text files, which are small. I now know when jazz music developed. You know, in case it’s important—”

“Chet said he’s around two hundred years old,” I said. “Would he have been alive during the Second Human War?”

“Most certainly, if his guess of his age is accurate,” M-Bot said. “The Second Human War began two hundred and fifty years ago, but lasted decades. It was characterized by the first attempts to weaponize the delvers, who had appeared near the end of the First Human War.

“The first war started when humans escaped Earth and found an entire galaxy full of people who enforced nonaggression by imprisoning, exiling, or executing those who showed aggressive tendencies. Let’s just say they were not ready for your people. Boy, howdy.”

“…‘Boy, howdy’?”

“Cool, huh? I just made that up.” He buzzed around me. “No, I didn’t! That was a lie! Ha! I can say them so easily now. Anyway, if Chet there was born two hundred years ago, he’d have lived during the time known as ‘the stilling,’ when the galaxy was actively trying to stop using wireless communication. These were the times punctuated by the worst and most terrible delver attacks, and when the war was starting to end.”

“When was the original colony on Detritus destroyed?” I asked.

“That’s uncertain,” M-Bot said, “as Detritus was a secret project, and the Superiority didn’t have records of it. We can guess it was between three hundred and two hundred years ago.”

“So Chet wouldn’t have been alive when it was made?”

“A reasonable assumption,” M-Bot said.

We reached the hills. Chet had disappeared into a cave there, but I could see his footsteps leading in.

“For further reference,” M-Bot said, buzzing up beside me, “I crashed on Detritus a hundred and seventy-two years ago.”

“Huh,” I said. “Chet said he came in here right around a hundred and seventy years ago. He mentioned remembering some caves in the place he was before he came in here. And ruins…”

I trailed off. We looked at each other. Or, well, I looked at the box that contained M-Bot’s circuits, and he focused his lenses on me.

Then we both took off toward the cave.