Cytonic (Skyward #3)(104)

“Excellent,” he said. “You have left behind the worldview of a child.” He cracked an eye. “How old are you, among your species?”

“A young adult,” I said.

“Then I might question the society that allowed you to persist in such naivety for so long,” he said. “Among the first lessons a warrior must learn is the knowledge that his immediate enemy—the person he must kill—is just trying to survive. Soldiers are alike, no matter their side.”

“I…don’t know that anyone among us knew who the enemy were,” I said. “Only that they were trying to destroy us. And…I thought you said you didn’t remember enough to be wise, Hesho?”

“It seems,” he said, “you ask the right questions. I do not know why I say these things, simply that they are true.” He closed his eyes again. “You are not a coward, nor are you selfish, for realizing you have options, warrior-sister. You cannot be defined by your questions. Only by what you do with them.”

Well, Hesho was the same person—with or without memories. What really frightened me, then, was that this was who I was.

I saw what would happen if I stayed. I would become like Chet. Everyone I knew—even the person I’d been—would fade. I’d remember only the stories, and I’d become more and more like someone who felt she was one of those heroes. I’d forget everything and let the part of me that had always made up boasts take control. In forty years, I probably wouldn’t even remember the fight for Detritus, or why I’d stayed.

But I’d love every minute of it.

I stood up and walked to the edge of the balcony, staring out at that great, brilliant white light—but one with a softness to it. It appeared to absorb everything that drew near. Merged them with the light…



I closed my eyes, and searched outward for my father.

The reality icon was still nearby. I assumed it was somehow his soul, though I had no real proof. Maybe that was what I wanted to believe.

Could I face him though? With this doubt inside me?

I felt him. That emotion that had been guiding me, supporting me all along. Was it really my father? I knew it wasn’t Gran-Gran or Jorgen. So…was it, maybe, God? Like spoken of in the Book of Saints?

The pin brushed my mind. It welcomed me. Wanted me to come to it now. Was I brave enough for that?

“Wait here,” I said to Hesho and M-Bot. “I’ll return soon.”

I walked into the hallway outside my room. Lights shone on decor that felt too soft to me. A brown carpet, walls with patterns on them. I closed my eyes again and rested one hand on the wall, which had an odd texture like paper. I was accustomed to smooth metal or rough rock.

I walked along slowly, my eyes closed, seeking that mind. Seeking my father. Before, I sent to it, you strengthened my memories of my life on Detritus. Can you do that again?

Curiosity.

Because I need to feel guilty, I thought, so I’ll force myself to return.

What came back through that mental connection hit me like a shock wave. It wasn’t the memories I’d demanded. It wasn’t condemnation.

It was permission.

A calm, gentle understanding. Like a warm breeze through my soul. No words, but meaning. It’s all right. Your pain is real. Your passion is real.

You can choose. It’s all right.

The emotion shook me. I sank to my knees, bowing my head. It wasn’t what I’d expected, and certainly wasn’t what I’d wanted. I needed guilt to propel me, didn’t I?



Yet the permission was insistent. Yes, there were some who would be sad or angry if I didn’t return. But nobody could ever claim I hadn’t done my part. The attempt at a truce with the delvers was plausible enough to accept. And even if it wasn’t…well, we shouldn’t be required to keep giving until we’d been wrung out. That wasn’t love.

I could stay. I deserved to stay, if I wanted to. That familiar mind wasn’t trying to persuade me. It gave me permission to let go, if that was what I truly wanted.

I pulled up beside the wall, head bowed against my knees, feeling that warmth flow through me. Until I let it flow out of me through tears. Like I’d been filled to the brim.

I couldn’t explain why I was crying. They weren’t tears of grief or joy. They were just…tears.

There’s no way to tell how long I sat there, though I don’t think the lost time was due to the strange effects of the nowhere. I eventually let it all leak out, and came to myself sitting in that muted hallway, unexpectedly calm.

I hadn’t made a decision yet, but I did need to hold my pin again. I had to know for certain if it carried my father’s soul.

Climbing to my feet, I went hunting, connected as if by light-line tether to that other mind. I took the steps at a reckless pace. On the ground floor, I entered a large room with tables almost as long as runways. Scud, was this the mess hall? Those chandeliers looked like they were on fire.

The mind was nearby. A few pirates were in the mess hall at the moment, including Maksim and a human who looked vaguely familiar. Had I seen him earlier? He was wearing a symbol of the Long Plank Faction.

Maksim gave me a friendly wave and I nodded absently, feeling…pulled…

I walked to the side of the room where, after poking around a little, I found a power outlet that was loose. I pried it off, and behind was a hidden alcove. Inside were two objects. My pin and a small, worn stuffed animal. It looked vaguely like an alien dog, from the shape of the face and the paws.