Jecca’s condition deteriorated. They refused to consume, sickened at the prospect of devouring consciousness that might have once been hers. Jecca struggled to wall off their mind from the others when in swarming behavior. The multitudes had begun to notice Jecca’s reluctance to give them complete access to their thoughts, as was the Scythin way. The truth was unavoidable. Jecca could no longer strike the Chime. They could no longer bear to let their species sound the chord. It was no longer beautiful. It was the sound of nothingness.

Jecca was forced to act when the time came for the Scythin to feed and for their ship – it does not have a name – to cross dimensions again. The Notes, the Chimes – great prongs struck in order to play the chord – were indestructible, impossible to cut, disassemble, melt, or obliterate. Jecca searched for places to hide the one embedded within their chest. It would devour a star instantly. Dropping it into open space was too risky – their ship’s eyes could find a fragment of slag across half a galaxy. It had to be concealed and forgotten.

Jecca chose one of the myriad floating cities that surrounded the dueling stars of Effelox Binary. They were numerous, immense, and the last place a Scythin looking to hide something would be expected to go for it was impossible to move about unseen in the free cities. Jecca knew all of this, but it was never the goal to end up where people actually lived.

Jecca left in haste, absconding inside an untraceable voidscull while the others exulted in swarming behavior, and set the vessel to emerge from bulkspace into a spot already occupied by solid matter. When it did, Jecca was effectively entombed – becoming one with the radiation shield. They lived for only a short time after, as their entire lower half had melded into the shield, with only the glowing amber of a faraway hatch bringing any light. And there Jecca died; hidden, body moldering, their biology reaching out.

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

Mother must have been larger, for the suit fit better than Aptat’s had. Naecia stepped out away from the vault, hearing the whine of some joints working harder than others. On the whole, this was good news. She’d half expected it not to work at all. Power? she subvocalized through the com.

A display came up in the corner of the mask accompanied by a bar that showed the suit fully charged. “Do I have magmafier?”

“I’m not seeing any operational limits here,” said Izairis. “But do you have propellant?”

Propellant? Another bar appeared – this time empty. “So much for that.” She stood in the center of the room. Melee limb? Another icon showed on the screen and she actually felt the articulated weapon unclick from her back. Ammunition? Nothing on the display. Projectiles? Nothing again. “Izairis, how do I find out if I’m loaded?”

“The system refers to the ammunition as ‘Stings’.”