“Maybe that’s what’s missing in my life,” Amal said.
I put an arm around her shoulders, then gently pulled her close. She seemed surprised by this gesture of affection, but she didn’t reject it. We’d never really hugged, in the early days. We’d come out fully matured and indoctrinated into following Ta’Zan everywhere. His needs always came first. Our relationship didn’t matter, unless it could be of use to him—after all, we were brilliant together, and not as efficient when we were apart.
“You have love in your life already, Amal, if you want it,” I said to her, gently. “I’ve got enough for you and for Ridan.”
She snaked her arms around my waist. I didn’t see it coming, but I was beyond happy to have it, nonetheless. Amal and I hugged for a while, quietly letting each other know that our connection ran deep, and far beyond our cerebral capabilities. We were sisters by blood, and it was time we acted like it, too.
“We have to stop him, Amane,” she mumbled, resting her head on my shoulder. “Do you trust your friends to go through with this? To do their part of the plan?”
I gave her a soft nod. “They’ve done enough damage to him already, don’t you think?”
She grinned. “I’ll admit, they exceeded my expectations.”
“Then trust them with this. They want to save their worlds, their friends, and their loved ones. And, based on the stories I’ve heard from them, they’ll stop at nothing until they succeed. And that’s where we come in,” I said. “If anyone can take Ta’Zan down, it’s them.”
Amal thought about it for a while, then looked at me. “We’ll help them. But you know what that means.”
I most certainly did, and we’d already discussed it. I didn’t feel comfortable being separated from Ridan anymore, but, with Amal’s and my knowledge, we had enough information between us to maybe pull this off. It was only temporary, anyway.
If my sister and I succeeded in what we’d planned, we’d all survive and maybe even thrive in a new world. If we failed, however, I’d be forced to watch Ridan live out the rest of his days with a shock collar around his neck, withering away in Ta’Zan’s diamond dome.
At least I had Amal back. I’d never really lost her, but with her so close to me, my mind functioned at incredible speeds. I was processing a thousand possible scenarios at once. Together, Amal and I were unstoppable.
Nathaniel
“The interplanetary travel spell functions quite simply, but its landing is random,” Arwen said.
Uriel, Angelica, Deena, and I stood on the top level of GASP’s Mount Zur base, where a platform had been built. The space shuttle was small but had enough firepower to steer the travel spell away from a potential hotspot—that much we’d learned from the blueprints that Phoenix had showed us. This particular vessel was his latest design, and he’d insisted on being up here with us for the takeoff.
“All you need to do is rev all the engines to the max as you steer toward the Merinos cluster,” he added, checking some last flight details on his computer tablet. He’d wired it so he’d be permanently connected to the shuttle and our vitals. With the comms blockers down, that was easy.
I gave him a confident nod. “We’ve got this. We’ve learned how to pilot the ship. Your manual was very good,” I replied.
“Yeah, the one thing I’m really good at is telling people what to do.” He chuckled nervously.
He was on edge. I could almost feel him. His pulse was thudding in my ears. I was still trying to get used to what my body was capable of, but I didn’t feel superior to anyone, in any way. My mind was as far from what Ta’Zan had intended as possible—and it was all because of me.
“You’re also very good at designing ships,” Uriel chimed in.
“You need to land as close to Merinos as possible. Araquiel and his local crew will meet you there,” Arwen said. “I think you can find each other without much effort.”
“We can sense each other, if we pay attention,” Angelica replied. “I’m not sure our Stravian brethren are aware of that.”
“I doubt they are. Otherwise, they would’ve found Raphael and Douma already,” Phoenix said, then looked at me. “Thank you for what you’re about to do.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Not until we deliver,” I replied, feeling my nerves stretch to new limits. “Once we do what we have to do, and the mission is declared successful, I will gladly accept the praise.”
Angelica laughed. “Ever the serious soldier,” she quipped, then gave me a friendly slap on the shoulder.
Uriel, Angelica, and Deena were the creatures that were closest to my heart. In a way, we’d grown up together, though over the course of days, not years. We were made from the same genes, and we understood each other better than most.
They knew what it felt like to attain consciousness in a foreign world, to be told that you had no power over the decisions you made, that your brain was programmed and molded to fit the agenda of a creature whose sole purpose was to cause misery and prove nature wrong. I felt violated and ashamed by what I’d done. I’d done it willingly, because I didn’t know any better.
And they felt the same way. For all the blood we’d shed and all the hurt we’d caused, the four of us felt compelled to do something to make amends. To do good in order to stifle the evil we’d done already. To be better versions of ourselves. To prove to these people that we deserved a chance, after all.
What I appreciated most about Arwen and her people was that they gave us the freedom to choose, to decide what was wrong and right. They shared their history with us; they showed us their way of life and their reasoning methods. And they made a lot more sense than what I’d picked up from our recorded memories as Ta’Zan’s soldiers.
“We’re going to have a tough time walking in there,” Uriel muttered, crossing his arms.
“What do you mean? Inside the colosseum?” I asked.
He nodded. “They’re our brothers and sisters, in a way. And we’re about to turn their world upside down. We’re about to kill a whole lot of them to save the world from them.”
“To save many of them, too,” Deena interjected. “We didn’t choose to be like this, and neither did they. We can’t rescue them all. But the ones that we can, we will.”
“As long as Amal and Amane get the mass memory wiper working,” Angelica replied.
“Let’s trust the twins. Rose and Ben’s crew certainly believes in them,” I said. “And they’ve been out there, kicking and fighting against our misguided brethren for a long time now. I trust their instincts.”
Arwen sighed. “Just be careful once you get there. Don’t let the beauty of those diamond colosseums seduce you. Don’t think for a second that Ta’Zan might actually win this—”
“He won’t.” I cut her off before she could suggest that we might get soft in there. I completely rejected the notion, anyway. “Once we’re in there, his entire scheme will fall apart, diamond brick by diamond brick. And we’ll have Araquiel and the Faulties to work with. It’s more than we could’ve asked for. We’ll be okay, Arwen. Please, don’t worry.”
“My daughter’s life is on the line,” she said, her voice trembling. Tears gathered in her eyes. “I can’t help but worry.”
For a moment, I wondered what it would’ve been like if Ta’Zan had acted more like a father and less like an evil and delusional overlord. Maybe my brethren and I would’ve been less vicious. Maybe there wouldn’t have been the need to wipe our memories and have us start over, just to stop us from killing innocent people.
Rage burned through me, quiet but persistent. I couldn’t ignore the grief, either. I’d done terrible things for Ta’Zan. And I was determined to live through an eternity of making up for it, if needed.
