Cytonic (Skyward #3)(49)

“Prevention is always better than repair,” I said.

“Wise words,” the crystal replied, “but accurate only as long as you have access to preventive measures.”

The crystal was an alien creature known as a resonant. This one, whose name in English was Shiver, had told me she was female “this time.” Their entire bodies were made of crystal that could grow at will. She’d filled the inside of the starfighter cockpit much as minerals fill a geode.



The part I was talking to now—the larger gemstone—had grown rapidly as I’d come over to inspect the machine. I imagined this part was like an arm or something—a “limb” Shiver could extend for interaction. The large crystal at the end didn’t seem necessary; I had the sense she created it to give others something to address when speaking to her.

My attempt to steal a ship had been doomed from the start; I’d chosen a vehicle where the electronics and controls were grown over by Shiver’s body. Normally, a resonant would remain in one place for an entire “incarnation,” which I gathered lasted some fifty years or so. This time she had grown herself through the starship, almost coming to inhabit it as an AI might. Or actually, like a figment.

“Hey, Shiver,” I said as I unscrewed the housing on the destructor to get a look at the guts, “you ever heard of a species known as figments?”

“Indeed I have,” Shiver said. “Such strange and mysterious individuals. I’ve never met one, but I’ve always been fascinated by them.”

“I was thinking they’re kind of like your species,” I said.

“In what way?”

“Well, you both kind of inhabit a spaceship. Like…I don’t know, a soul in a body.”

“That’s a fascinating perspective.”

The way those words sounded made me think of how Kimmalyn would reply “bless your stars” to some stupid comment I’d made.

“I feel like you disagree with me,” I said.

“Though I find some holes in your logic, I’m certain I’ll understand better after considering your opinion.”

I’d nearly forgotten how conciliatory people from the Superiority could be. Here was a literal group of pirates that had caught me trying to steal from them, and they had treated me almost like a houseguest. A chained-up one, but still.



“You can tell me if I said something dumb,” I said as I worked on the housing screws. “I’m not going to be offended.”

“It’s not really our way…”

“You’re a starfighter pilot,” I said. “You fly out there weekly to fight. You can’t argue with me a little?”

“Spin, my species evolved as motionless individuals who would spend decades next to one another. It’s not in our nature to argue. Unlike motile species, we cannot simply walk away if we make one another angry.”

Huh. Yeah, that made sense.

“But,” Shiver said, “in the name of broadening both of our understandings, let me explain. You imply that I am like a figment by the way we both control a ship. I find this a superficial observation, as it makes us similar in the same way any two species who use appendages to move controls would be similar—no matter how different their cultures, bodies, and core chemical makeups might be.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” I said. “Honestly, I might just be missing my friends.”

“I can understand,” Shiver said. “I also miss my seven mates from my cavern. I grew to be part of them for three incarnations, and now…”

I doubted a crystalline creature could cry. But the peal that came next was reminiscent of it, and the pin didn’t interpret the sounds as words.

“Hey,” I said, finally getting the last stubborn screw out. “We’ll find a way out of here someday.”

“Of course we will,” Shiver said. “Of course we will.”

Those words also had the same feel of something Kimmalyn would say. The two would get along fantastically. At least, both seemed pretty good at handling me.

I pried off the destructor’s outer housing, then wrinkled my nose. The weapon clearly had a leak in its mechanisms—fluid had been seeping out for some time. Then firing the weapon had heated it up and charred it all, resulting in a heavily corroded mechanism full of flaky black ash.



This is perfect, I thought, careful not to show my excitement. I’d wanted something broken, but something that was broken and needed cleaning was even better.

Out loud I said, “Scud. This is a mess.”

“I resonate that,” Shiver said. “And felt it might be so.”

“This is going to take a while to clean up,” I said. “I’ll pull it off the ship for now, so you’ll be missing a destructor if you have to fly.”

“Unfortunately, the nature of our existence often requires flying in suboptimal conditions,” Shiver said. “I wish you speed and self-fulfillment as you work on your repairs, Spin.”

“Thanks,” I said. I affixed a small portable acclivity ring to the bottom of the mechanism, then began unhooking it from the wing. That took about a half hour, but once I was done, I lowered it with a remote control.

The destructor was a good meter and a half long, shaped kind of like a missile—and with the housing removed, it was all exposed wires and char. As I hovered it along, I got a glimpse out the back door—and it took extreme self-control to not immediately run out and dig up my father’s pin. I knew it would be safe out there though. Much safer than in my possession.