Cytonic (The Skyward Series Book 3)

Chet led me back to the small wooden building I’d discovered, saying that we needed to salvage some supplies. I tried explaining that it had been picked clean, but once we arrived he proceeded to take the doors off their hinges.

We each carried a door to the edge of the fragment, where we waited an hour to jump across to the next approaching fragment. It was a tropical one, full of tall trees with bare trunks and leaves only at the tops. We took our time crossing this one, scavenging for some strange oversized nuts the size of a person’s head. They weren’t coconuts—I knew those from my studies on Old Earth—but were similar.

We spent the evening hollowing the nuts out by prying off the tops and pulling out the long, stringy pulp by hand. Afterward we stretched the interior membrane of each one over the hole we’d made and set it to dry.

That night, I again failed at contacting Jorgen. But I woke up eager and excited for the day’s trek—because while we’d slept, our next fragment had approached.

An ocean.

It was the most bizarre thing I’d seen here yet. The sides were stone like the bottom, but they were only about a meter thick. Beyond was water; essentially the fragment was an enormous bowl. It seemed larger than most fragments we’d traveled on, extending for kilometers into the distance.

Chet showed me how to use the pulp—which had become cordlike as it dried—to tie the doors together and lash the hollowed-out nuts to them. The nuts were watertight and filled with air. So when we shoved off into the ocean, we had a functional raft.

It was awesome.

Even M-Bot was impressed. He buzzed around us, complimenting the raft’s “structural integrity” and “remarkable buoyancy.” We named the ship the Not-ilus and I stood proudly at the prow—well, the flat front end I declared the prow. Chet chuckled softly, weaving oars from bent reeds and leftover nut-guts.

It was slow going, but I still felt like I was some ancient Polynesian hero sailing the ocean for the first time. Plus it got even better. Because the ocean had sea monsters.

I saw them swimming below as sinuous shapes and immediately fell to my knees, worried. And excited. Because, you know. Sea monsters.

I glanced at Chet, who was whistling softly and braiding some nut-guts into a stronger cord. One did not act so cheekily nonchalant by accident; he wasn’t worried about the sea monsters, whatever they were.

“Oh!” M-Bot said, hovering past me. “Look! Ah! Um, turn around! About-face! Reverse rudder or whatever! We’re going to get eaten!”

Chet calmly tossed me the rope, one end of which he’d fashioned into a loop. Then he handed me a small red fruit he’d harvested somewhere.

“Float that out beside us,” he said, “then set the loop around it in the water and get ready to pull.”

I could hardly contain myself as I did what he said. I stood at the ready as a blue serpentine head came up and snatched the fruit. I yanked with a mighty pull, looping the thing around the neck, which let out a gaping…

…yawn?

Well, it was a sea monster, even if it barely noticed that I’d captured it. Instead it chewed on the fruit, bringing up another coil of its body from the depths below. It was like a snake, perhaps as thick as a man’s thigh, but had little flippered legs along its very long body. It bit happily at the fruit, then looked up at me with pleading eyes, its head wagging in the water.

“You,” I told it, “shall be known as Gnash the Slaughterer.”

It made a bubbling sound, then turned eagerly as Chet tossed another fruit far out into the ocean. It began moving, towing us along as I yelped and held tight to the rope.

“Spensa,” M-Bot said, hovering along beside my head, “I don’t think that creature is likely to slaughter anything.”

“It’s a garqua,” Chet explained, settling back down on the raft—er, the deck of our mighty ship. “They’re not dangerous. They come from Monrome.”

“Monrome?” I asked.

“Dione homeworld?” Chet said. “Even I know that, and I’ve forgotten the names of my parents.” At my blank stare, he continued. “No predators on Monrome.”

“What?” I said. “None?”

“None,” Chet said. “Scavengers and herbivores only.”

I glanced at M-Bot, who bobbed in the air to simulate nodding. “It’s true,” he said. “Though I doubt this one came directly from the dione homeworld—they have colonized nearly a hundred planets and have a habit of importing their local wildlife. After, ah, exterminating the local species for being too brutal and aggressive.”

“Sounds like them,” I said. “Still feels odd to me.”

“Did you assume every planet had the same ecological hierarchy as Earth?” M-Bot asked.

“Well…yeah,” I said. “I mean, it seems pretty fundamental. Things eat other things.”

“It seems fundamental,” Chet said, “because it’s the way it was for us. Doesn’t mean it has to be that way everywhere.”

Huh. I continued holding Gnash’s leash. She stopped to eat the fruit Chet had thrown—but then continued on, pulling us along contentedly. She appeared to think she’d find another piece of fruit if she kept going that direction, something Chet reinforced by occasionally tossing out another.

I contemplated the idea of a world—well, many worlds, if M-Bot was right—without predators. No hunting, no killing? How did survival of the fittest and all that work? At any rate, no wonder the diones thought everyone else was too aggressive.

The more I thought about it though, the more annoyed I became at them. They acted like they were superior—like they’d developed “prime intelligence” or whatever—because their society was peaceful. But they’d simply evolved on a planet without predators. They hadn’t become enlightened or learned a better way—they merely assumed their way was how it was meant to be.

I supposed lots of species were like that, my own included. But we weren’t conquering the galaxy—currently—or forcing everyone to live by our rules. Currently.

We spent the better part of the day crossing the ocean fragment. When we reached the far side we thanked Gnash with some more fruit and then moved on. And let it be known that M-Bot was totally wrong. Gnash was an excellent slaughterer, at least when it came to fruit.

We slept that night on a fragment with many caves that reminded me of home, and I think I got my best sleep of the entire trip there, comforted by the peaceful sound of water echoing as it dripped. The next day was full of different delights. Cliffs to scale, two swamps with utterly different scents—really, one smelled like cinnamon, like…someone I’d known once. After that, we crossed a fragment broken by winding canyons and beautiful patterns of colored stone.

By the end of the day, Chet informed me that we were nearing the Broadsider pirate base, and I found myself strangely melancholy. Once we got a ship, we would travel faster—and I was eager to take to the sky. But I had truly enjoyed the time I’d spent traveling.

Flying the rest of the way…well, it seemed that would undermine the epic nature of my quest a tad. That said, as I considered, I decided that many of the heroes from the stories would have used a starfighter if one had been available. Gilgamesh, for example, would totally have done it. (Not sure about Xuanzang, admittedly. He’d probably have been all about the need for the journey to refine him, or some other super-wise Zen stuff.)

We ended the day on a jungle fragment that I liked more than the first one I’d been on. It had less underbrush and all the plants were blue, which I found relaxing. It was just a more natural color.

According to Chet, this fragment would pass the pirate base the next day. So we decided to camp, and he sent M-Bot to scan for life forms that could be dangerous.

“I doubt that there are large beasts on this fragment,” Chet explained to the AI, “but it is better to be careful than to be eaten.”

“Plus,” I added, “if the delvers can possess bodies, they might be able to grab one we don’t expect. So see what kind of life there is, big or small. I’d rather not be surprised by a group of zombie chipmunks.”

“Zombie…chipmunks?” Chet said.

“It would likely be a fun fight,” I said. “With lots of kicking. Probably feels about the same to kick a chipmunk as it does to kick a rat.”

“And…how many rats have you kicked, Miss Nightshade?”

“Only the ones that were asking for it,” I said, smacking my fist into my palm.

M-Bot zipped off, and Chet and I began pulling down blue fronds and making bedding out of them. I kind of wished we could make a fire like in the stories, but it never felt cold in here—or hot. Plus the smoke would give us away.

Soon we each had a nice bed. And though I’d liked the caverns, this was probably going to be the softest of our nights in the nowhere.

“Thank you,” I said to Chet as I settled into mine, “for all of this.”

“I’ve been paid each day,” he said. “You don’t need to thank me!”

And each day he’d watched the reality icon with hunger. But I moved past that. “You haven’t just guided me, Chet. You’ve taught me and shown me incredible things.”

“Well,” he said, “at the very least I’m glad you were able to see an ocean of sorts. I did promise you they were fun to explore! Regardless, no need to thank me. You saved my life on that fragment that was being destroyed!”

“And you saved mine.”

“A sign that we’re an excellent team!” he said, settling back into his nest of fronds. More solemnly, he continued, “Truly, Miss Nightshade, I’ve rarely had such an invigorating companion. Plus you encouraged me toward a goal I’ve been avoiding for far too long. For that I thank you.”

I nodded in agreement. “What are we likely to face tomorrow? Will the pirates be armed with modern weapons, for example?”

“Yes,” he said. “But remember they are mostly outcasts—not a true military force. They have gathered together more out of necessity, to be near other minds.”

“Any idea why that helps us not forget in here?” I asked.

“It is curious, isn’t it? It’s like…people are all a little more real when they’re together. Maybe together we remind one another what it is to be alive. To have family.”

He said that last word with a hint of longing, looking upward through the trees. He’d forgotten his family, whoever they had been. I wished that he could see M-Bot as a lost friend, reunited, and not an “abomination.” But I decided not to bring the issue up again at the moment.

We fell silent for a while, then Chet spoke, his voice softer. “I once had a ship in here. I decided to fly it all the way to the lightburst—to get out that way, if I could, and return to whatever life I’d left behind. But…I lost myself, flying. I think that’s when I finally lost the last of my memories of my family, you see. Out there on your own, you don’t have anything to remind you of who you are.

“Down on the fragments, everything—the stones, the structures, the trees—helps somehow. It grounds us, one might say. Ha! At any rate, I think we two will be fine flying together. We’ll have each other, plus your icon. It should be enough. Should be…”

Chet trailed off and I shivered, imagining losing so much. I had to stay focused. Find my answers and get home. It had been…how long since I’d entered the nowhere? Maybe a week?

How many times have I slept? I wondered. Three? Or has it been four?

It was unnerving that I couldn’t remember. So I focused on the upcoming mission. “We’ll send M-Bot to do some reconnaissance once we’re on the pirate faction’s fragment,” I told Chet. “They may not be a true military, but they’ve got to be somewhat competent to have stolen ships and kept them.”

“That is true,” Chet said. “I agree. Expect them to be modestly capable, but not military trained.”

“I’ll bet they sleep in shifts and have scouts on duty to watch for anyone approaching, even on foot. So we have two options, as I see it. The first is to hit them when most of their numbers are away during a fight. During a battle, the people they leave behind might be distracted enough for us to get in and steal a ship.”

“Assuming all the ships aren’t away at the fight,” he said, “denying us our opportunity for larceny.”

“I suspect they’ll be smart enough to leave reserves—and if not, there will be ships in their hangars undergoing maintenance. M-Bot should be able to determine which of them are in flying shape.”

“Still sounds dangerous,” Chet said, leaning back in his makeshift bed. “I assume they would be more alert during a fight, not less.”

“Well, our second option is to strike during a long shift when most of them are asleep. We move in stealthily, have M-Bot hack through a ship’s security, then fly out with our prize before anyone knows what’s happening.”

“They’ll give chase,” Chet noted.

“Trust me, Chet,” I said, “I might not know how to build a raft, but I won’t have trouble outflying anyone in that group.”

“Marvelous! I shall look forward to our flight, then.”

M-Bot came zipping back. “I used infrared scanners to search for warm life forms, and didn’t find anything larger than a worm,” he announced. “No chipmunks, zombified or otherwise.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“That…wasn’t a ‘made you look’ joke, was it?” he asked. “Sending me out to look for things? I can’t tell.”

I’d completely forgotten about pranking him that once, so it took me a moment to remember what he was referencing. “No joke,” I promised him. “We really did want you to look for dangers on this fragment.”

“Thanks,” he said, then flew off again, likely to begin searching for mushrooms. I sat there for a while, staring upward…

Then I jumped when M-Bot returned.

How…how long had I just been sitting there, not noticing the passage of time? Chet was already asleep.

I couldn’t tell. It could have been a minute, could have been an hour. But M-Bot had seven different mushroom samples in his grabber claws and was laying them out to catalog them. So…scud.

I turned over in my bed, worried about that sudden passage of time. Gran-Gran had told me about a man who’d accidentally slept for hundreds of years. That wouldn’t happen to me, would it? Normally a thought like that might have kept me awake. But this time I fell right to sleep.