Page 3 of Defiant

I don’t know what to make of my new powers,I thought at him as—once again—we hung in the void and saw only blackness.The other day, I hyperjumped something without touching it.

Yes,he thought back.You are part delver now. Distance and space are…not as relevant to you as they once were.

Here, floating for a moment in the nowhere—and once again not seeing any delvers—I felt I understood a little better why I was dangerous to them. It had something to do with my deeper intrinsic connection to the nowhere and the delvers. One thing I’d learned in my travels was that they had hidden away parts of themselves, had intentionally forgotten their pain.

Now that I was part delver, I could see the truth. I could see what Chet had done to hide that same pain. I thought…I thought if I could figure it all out,thiscould be the secret to their destruction.

I took a moment to quest out for M-Bot again, but felt nothing, so I completed the hyperjump. I appeared back in the somewhere, inmy ship, outside Detritus’s shell. And in that moment I realized something. Why I’d been concerned earlier in the day when Chet had noted the delvers were afraid of me.

He stirred.Yes,he thought at me.Why are you worried? It’s good that they’re frightened, yes?

Good,I thought back,and bad. Chet, they’re desperate. And desperate people do unpredictable things.I’d spent all this time learning to anticipate them—but now, who knew what they would do?

He settled back against my soul, like a person leaning back in a chair, and pondered on that. Because we were linked, he understood instantly what I meant. And soon I saw that he understood my worry as well.

Still, I tried to put those concerns out of my mind for the moment, so I could just enjoy the flight. Tried to ignore the weight upon my soul. The lingering sadness—though I tried to stamp it out—at having left the nowhere, where I could have explored without responsibility, behind. The worry about M-Bot. The sense of disconnect I felt, returning to a place where time flowed normally.

The implications that I was now one ofthemmore than I was one ofus.

My hyperjump, fortunately, gave me something gorgeous to distract me. We were in orbit around Evershore, the kitsen homeworld. A vibrant blue planet, like all the old pictures of Earth, with clouds and seas and life. It was breathtaking.

I soared through space between the two planets. Detritus, it turned out, couldmove.There was a reason it had been built with its own protective shell, able to maintain its warmth and a day-night cycle far from any sun. It was an enormous battle station, capable of using cytonics to hyperjump around the galaxy. Indeed, many of its platforms could move on their own, like smaller battle stations.

All the planet had needed was some maintenance and a whole lot of alien slugs. Fortunately, we’d managed to provide both.

Our homeworld was even more amazing than we’d ever known. It had provided a haven to slugs—hundreds of them hiding in thetunnels far beneath the surface. Thinking of that made me reach out to Doomslug, and I sensed her spike of joy at the contact. She sent me an image of a large room on one of the platforms, where she was being cared for. Dozens of slugs—of several different varieties—populated this room alone, with human caretakers engaging with them.

Doomslug was hiding in the corner with a little bowl of what appeared to be caviar. She perked up at my contact, and sent me an immediate emotional barrage of relief. After my time in the nowhere, I was getting better at understanding her—and these days I could make out basic words from the impressions she sent.

I thought you would be happy with the others,I sent, remembering her joy at first seeing all those other slugs.

Happy. And not happy,she sent back.

Why?

Confused,she said.Feel lost still. Feel alone still. Feel strange.

I immediately recognized that sensation: that feeling of no longer belonging. Of seeing things…differently from everyone else. Of being an oddity. I sent her welcoming thoughts, and in a moment she was in my lap. I hoped that wouldn’t cause the caretakers too much concern—I would have to send them a message. But I suspected the caretakers were accustomed to it. I’d heard from Rig and FM that caring for a large group of intelligent interdimensional teleporting slugs was proving…interesting.

Together, Doomslug and I flew through space, pretending it was the old days. I accelerated us to incredible speeds, impossible in atmosphere, and enjoyed the sensation of doing maneuvers between two planets. My brain kept panicking as it tried to track which direction was up, and I found it a neat sensation. Not too different, actually, from flying in the nowhere.

Unfortunately, duty soon came calling. My comm blinked, and a moment later Jorgen’s voice came through the earpiece of my helmet.

“Spensa?” he asked. “Are youflying?”

“Patrols,” I said. “Who can say when the Superiority will attack, you know?”

He seemed to understand, because he chuckled softly.

“Feeling better?” I asked. “Now that it’s over?”

“I would be,” he said, “only now I’m officially in charge. Which means I have to do something about our predicament.”

“Fortunately, you don’t have to do it alone,” I said.

“Which is…why I’m calling you.”

I let out a deep sigh—but for his sake I muted myself first. I took my finger off the mute. “What do you need?”

---