Polaris (13 page)

“Dax isn't going to let us escape without Marian delivering on her promise,” Sierra said. “He's too clever for that.”

Jeth grimaced. Even his mother's ability to phase wouldn't keep them safe from Dax. One bullet to the brain and she'd be done. She might take down dozens of his men before one succeeded, but Dax had enough manpower to overwhelm her. Both the Brethren and the Guard would lay down their lives for him. “And even if we managed to get away, he'll
just be one more hunter on our trail.”

“You're right,” Sierra said.

Jeth ran a hand through his hair. This time he avoided the architecture hole, afraid of what he might feel if he touched it. “As soon as things settle down, I'll ask her what she has planned.”

“Good idea.”

“But even if she does intend to betray him,” Jeth said, “we still might have a way out. Lizzie thinks she's found—” He broke off, sweat dampening his skin as he struggled
not
to think about what Lizzie had found on the data crystal. That was the kind of information he couldn't afford to share on the Axis once he put the implant back in. He shook his head. “I'm sorry, but I can't go into that. Not until I learn how to control this.” He held up the implant, wishing he had the nerve to just crush it with his cybernetic fingers.

Sierra's nostrils flared, her frustration palpable. “Then you have to ask someone for help.”

“I already know what I have to do.”

“You do?” Sierra's eyes narrowed. “Then do it already.”

Jeth laughed, the sound as rough and raw as his insides felt. “I'm supposed to accept its influence. To
surrender
to it. Once I do I'll be able to control it. Crazy, right?” The solution sounded just as absurd now as it had earlier.

To his surprise, Sierra shook her head. “I remember your mom saying something similar back when she first received hers.”

The sound of rushing blood filled Jeth's ears. His mother
had been telling the truth. There was no denying it anymore.

He shook his head. “I can't do it, Sierra. I can't handle this. It's too much.” His voice cracked, the sound a pale echo of the way he was breaking on the inside, despair crushing him to dust.

Sierra stood up and crossed the room to him. She knelt before him and cupped his face with her hands. She was so close he could see the flecks of gold in the blue of her irises. “Yes, you can.”

Jeth breathed out, then in. “What if it changes me?”

Sierra's lower lip slid in between her teeth. It was all the answer Jeth needed. The implant would change him. It probably already had, he just didn't know it yet.

As if sensing her blunder, she released her lip and leaned toward him, close enough the tips of their noses touched. Her breath warmed his face, sweet and soothing. “We'll make sure it's only temporary. I'll help you hold on to who you are.”

Jeth closed his eyes. Once again the memory of his mother killing the ITA scientist swam in his mind. If he hadn't seen it for himself in that video, he never would have believed her capable of such an act, killing a man with a single thought. She'd been cold, remorseless. Wasn't it possible the change in her had something to do with the implant? She said hers was different, that it wasn't networked like the Brethren one . . . but did it still have a similar effect on her mind?

And then there was Dax. He'd been a good person once, a loving son and brother to his family, until Hammer had
decided to make him Brethren and force an implant on him. And now Dax was as cruel and twisted as Hammer had ever been.

Nausea burned in Jeth's belly, and he forced his eyes open. Sierra still watched him, her hands warm on his face. He wanted to lean into her touch, wanted to wrap his arms around her, hold her, kiss her. And all at once the idea of not touching her again was too much to bear. He had to master the implant.

He reached up and took hold of her hands, lowering them toward his lap. “Okay, I'll try, but you must promise me something first.”

Sierra hesitated. “What?”

Jeth drew a breath and let it out slowly. “If it changes me, if I become a monster, someone like Hammer or Dax, I want you to put me down.”

Confusion clouded Sierra's expression but only for a moment. “You won't.”

Jeth shook his head. He couldn't phase objects like his mother could, but with his aim, he could be just as deadly with a gun. “I might, and if I do, there's no telling what I might do to you or Lizzie or Cora. I can't risk it. You have to promise you'll stop me, no matter what.”

Silence met his words, the seconds slow and weighted between them. Jeth could sense the struggle raging in Sierra's mind, in her heart. He watched it with held breath and a pounding in his chest as fierce as a hammer striking. He watched until he saw her come to her answer at last.

She shifted her hands in his grasp, weaving her fingers through his as if she could braid the two of them together. She slowly nodded. “If you go too far, I'll do whatever it takes to stop you.” She paused, the silence loud with dread and possibilities. Her fear was so great he could almost taste it as she breathed in and out. “I promise.”

JETH SPENT THE NIGHT ALONE IN HIS CABIN, HIS ONLY
companion the strange, unwelcome ghosts in his head. He continued to resist the buzzing, trying to simply pretend it wasn't there. But it kept getting louder and louder until the buzz was all he could hear. It was like trying to ignore an itch on the bottom of his foot trapped inside his shoe, driving him crazy. Finally, he closed his eyes, gave in, and accepted the Axis fully.

At once, the buzzing ceased. Images and ideas flooded his mind, drowning him in the sudden onslaught. He froze, unable to tell where he ended and the Axis began. For a moment he
was
the Axis, a machine reduced to the influx and processing of data. He tried to shut it out again, but he was too paralyzed to respond. Even his body had stopped working.

He was helpless against the chaos, but some of it slowly began to make sense. He felt Eric and Perry through the link, their minds unique to him in a way the others were not, as if the face-to-face interaction had given them a distinguishable tenor among the chorus of thoughts. Seconds later he sensed Dax's presence, his mind stronger than the
others, more physically present somehow. Jeth felt his consciousness being pulled toward Dax, but the closer he drew the more his thoughts and memories began to flow out from him as if his mind were a pitcher that had been tipped over: the memory of his first kiss, the time he broke his wrist on the playground, the moment he learned his father had died, the first time he and Sierra—
NO!

He screamed it through the Axis, the power of his thought resonating like a pulse cannon. It was enough to shake him loose from the Axis's grip, and he raised his hand to his head and yanked the implant out. At once he slumped onto the bed, his muscles letting go. He hadn't realized his entire body had been clenched.

He leaned back and closed his eyes, willing his heartbeat to slow, his breathing to steady.
This is impossible
. He raised the implant before his face, glaring at it. He would never conquer this thing. Never. Jeth closed his eyes and wished for an escape. There was none. Only this brief respite between battles in what would be a long, difficult war.

But I must win
.

He let an hour pass, lying there without moving. He waited until the ache in the back of his skull grew unbearable again, then he returned the implant to its sheath. Relief, even greater than all the times before, came over him. And for a few moments, wearing the implant felt right.

But then the buzzing called again. This time he didn't ignore it. Instead, he gently probed it with his mind, approaching it warily, like a cat stepping into a new house.
Images began to appear again, but they came slower, their pace more controlled. He was able to distinguish one thought from another, one mind from another. For a while he was able to be in the flow of the Axis without sharing any of his own thoughts. No memories rose to the surface, no secrets escaped.

It's a doorway,
Perry had said, and Jeth thought he was beginning to grasp the concept. A doorway, one with a door he could open and close at will. He tried it, willing the door to close. Resistance met his attempt. He pushed harder. The next moment the Axis's power bowled him over again, and he was swept away in the flow of thoughts and ideas, his own being sucked out of him.

With an effort that left him panting, Jeth pulled away from the Axis once again, jerking the implant out. At least getting away had been a little easier this time.

A few minutes later he tried again. Then again. And so the night went. Each time he came back out feeling like he'd gained another measure of control. It wasn't like Perry had promised—it wasn't easy, but it was working. All it took was concentration and effort.

At some point during the night Jeth drifted off to sleep only to wake up and discover he'd left the implant in. The realization shot terror through him. He couldn't remember dreaming, but what if he had? What had his unconscious mind shared through the night?

Nothing,
the familiar voice of Perry reached him.
Stop being so paranoid. The Axis isn't your enemy. Just give in to it.

I'm trying,
Jeth thought back to him. The sensation was bizarre, like having an out-of-body experience.

You're still holding back. Give in all the way. I can help you if you want.

Jeth swallowed. The idea of just relaxing into it, of just accepting this new state of being, made sweat break out on his body once more. He needed a shower.

I bet you do. I can smell you from here.

What?

Kidding
. Perry's amusement vibrated through the link.
Just don't stand naked in front of the mirror while you're linked. None of us want to see that, thanks.

Fuck you,
Jeth thought, but to his surprise there was little heat in the response.

Anytime, man, anytime.

The link went quiet. Not dead, just quiet, a gentle hum in the back of Jeth's mind. Maybe he was getting the hang of this after all.

He rolled out of bed and headed for the exit. He paused in the doorway and contemplated leaving the implant behind. He even reached up to remove it from the architecture, but he stopped before going through with it. It felt okay for the moment. He didn't know how long it would last, but wearing it was the only way he was ever going to get used it.

Leaving the implant where it was, Jeth headed out the door into the dim passenger corridor. It was early enough he suspected most of the crew were still asleep, but as he headed for the ladder to the deck below, soft music rose up to greet
him. It was familiar music, but not any he'd heard for a very long time.
Mom's music,
he realized. He stepped off the ladder and entered the common room.

A rush of memories came over him as he spotted Marian sitting in one of the armchairs, a reader in her hands. He must have come across her like this hundreds of times in the first ten years of his life—reading and listening to music with a cup of tea set beside her, steam rising up from it in billows. For a second, panic threatened to take hold of Jeth as he realized he was still connected to the Axis. Only, he didn't think he'd shared the memories. The recollection felt different this time, voluntary and private.

Hesitantly, Jeth engaged the Axis, searching for Perry.
Did you see any of that?
Jeth asked once he'd found him.

See what?
Perry answered. There was no hint of deception in the reply, at least none that Jeth could sense.

Never mind.
Feeling better, he withdrew his thoughts from the link and focused on his mother. She looked up from her reader, her eyes appraising him.

“Good morning, Jeth. How are you feeling?” Marian paused. “How are you
doing
?”

He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, resisting the impulse to touch the implant tentacles cupped gently around the back of his skull. “Okay. A little better than yesterday.”

Marian smiled. “Good, I'm glad to hear it.

“How about you? How does it feel to be ho—to be here?” Jeth gestured around the common room, trying to see the space as his mother was seeing it.
Avalon
had been her second
home for years. It was certainly messier than in her day. The furniture was mostly the same, although a good deal shabbier. Most of the decorations would be new to her—the additions made by the crew, including Lizzie's still-life photos and Celeste's tribal masks—all except for the painting of Empyria. That one, positioned directly across from the chair she was sitting in, Marian had hung ages ago. It depicted a vivid, surreal landscape full of trees and plants painted in colors so vibrant they could only be fantasy.

“It's strange being back,” she said, glancing around the room. It was a truer statement than she could've realized.

“I know the feeling,” said Jeth. Normally every place on
Avalon
felt like home to him. But at the moment it was as if he'd stepped through some metaspace portal into a parallel world, one that resembled this one but that was off-kilter somehow, full of intentional mistakes.
Like my mother being back from the dead
. He shook the feeling off.

“Well, I'm glad you're adjusting to the implant. We'll be leaving soon.” Marian stood. “I hope you don't mind, but I already brought the crew up to speed on the mission to First-Earth. They all seemed willing to help.”

All of them?
“I don't mind,” Jeth said, uncertain if he really meant it. He was used to being captain of this crew, but he supposed if anyone were to take charge, his mother would be the best choice.

“Good,” Marian said. “Would you like some breakfast?”

“Sure.” The reply came out automatically, but astonishment at the idea colored his voice. Breakfast? Homemade by
his mother? This had to be a dream. This couldn't be his life.

“Apparently your friend Flynn went to the market,” Marian said as she turned toward the galley. “He's got quite the eye for quality ingredients. I like him.”

Jeth grinned, remembering Lizzie's words.
Mom will love the crew.
It seemed she was right. About Flynn at least. His thoughts started to turn toward Shady, and he pulled back, unwilling to probe that raw spot this morning.

Jeth followed his mother into the galley, and within minutes he was helping her prepare an elaborate breakfast, the kind that would make Flynn's heart explode from sheer joy. Jeth had never cared much for cooking, but he recalled watching his mother and father prepare meals together, the act a family ritual. They would laugh and talk while they worked, but not about the food and what needed to be done next—the work they accomplished with a kind of silent communication, a dance where one did this while the other did that on instinct.

Jeth found himself falling into the rhythm easily, and for a while, he didn't speak, just listened as his mother talked about days long gone, or gave him pointers about how to mix the best gravy or to dice the onions into the perfect size. At first Jeth was content just to listen and to be near her, savoring the nostalgia and the sweet soft enjoyment of their reunion.

But soon his thoughts turned to the present—and the future. He cleared his throat. “So, you say we'll be leaving soon?”

Marian looked up from the cutting board where she was slicing a tomato. All the food they were using was fresh and not imitation. It had to have come from Dax's personal stock, Jeth knew. Fresh food like this was a luxury most spaceport travelers couldn't afford, and certainly not his crew.

A Brethren perk,
he thought, a tremor going through his body. The Axis seemed unnaturally silent.

“Yes, that's right,” Marian said. “Another day, maybe two. I'm not sure. Dax is working on the final preparations.”

Jeth started to ask what those preparations were, but the realization that he and his mother might not be alone for much longer forced him to get right to the point. His heartbeat began to quicken, and all at once the buzzing grew louder, the Axis suddenly more present than it had been a moment before. Jeth winced and pulled the implant out, stuffing it into his pocket.

Marian cast him a sidelong look, but she didn't ask for an explanation.

Mustering his courage, Jeth said, “Why are we really going to First-Earth, Mom?”

A wry smile curved one side of her mouth, but she didn't stop her slow, methodical slicing of the tomato. “You get your skepticism from me, I hope you know.”

Jeth huffed, deciding he would have to take her word for it. He couldn't remember well enough to be certain. “Why, Mom?” he pressed.

She set the knife down and faced him. “For the exact reasons I already gave you—to hit the ITA where it will hurt
most, and to free the Pyreans and save Cora.”

Jeth sighed. “That's just it. How will destroying one Harvester free them? Won't we need to destroy all of them?”

Marian shook her head.

Jeth's brow furrowed. “Are you saying that destroying the First-Earth Harvester will be enough all by itself?”

“Yes.”

He blinked, taken aback by her absolute certainty. “How do you know that? How does that work?”

Marian hesitated for a moment, as if searching for the right words to convince him. “The First-Earth Harvester is the largest, as you know, but it also has the deepest hold on the Pyreans.”

“I don't understand.”

Marian didn't reply at once, instead letting her gaze wander around the room. Her eyes lingered for a couple of seconds on the wall behind the stove. Bits of dried food and other unidentifiable stains dotted it here and there. Flynn did a lot of the cooking, but tidiness went against his nature.

“Sierra has explained to you the way in which the Pyreans are best thought of as a tree, yes?” Marian finally said.

Jeth nodded.

“Well, imagine it's a tree that can move, like the kind in the fantasy stories I used to read to you when you were a boy.”

It took Jeth a moment to recall what she was talking about. But then he remembered—walking, talking trees, the kind that could pull up their roots and go places. Those had
been among his favorite make-believe creatures. He started to smile at the memory, but forced it back. Time was ticking.

“The Pyreans are like that,” Marian said. “Only instead of moving across the ground, the Pyreans move through metaspace.”

“I know that. I mean, I sort of get it.”

“All right. Then you might recall from one of the stories in particular that the best way to capture a walking tree is to snag it around the trunk. If you only try and lasso the branches, the tree will either slip free or break free, leaving the leaves and branches behind.”

Jeth snorted. “Yeah, I remember that story. It had the best illustrations.”

“Yes, it did. Well, like in the story, the First-Earth Harvester has hold of the trunk. The rest only hold the branches. So if we free the trunk, the Pyreans will be able to take care of the rest on their own.”