Guardian (31 page)

And son opened his eyes.

They were Devich
’s deep, soulful brown. I had fallen in love with those eyes, and those eyes had betrayed me.

“
What did you do?” I whispered.

A tiny hand wrapped itself around my finger and held tight.

I knew, dimly, that this was wrong. The poor creature that had tried, so unsuccessfully, to grow inside me was still too young, too small and unformed to look like this. Even if he hadn’t been overrun by suit and silex, if he hadn’t been turned into code and light, my baby had only been conceived a few moons ago. He should not have been able to smile at me, like that. To hold me, to look at me with such love and trust. To exist at all, outside of my body.

“
This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” The Veil smiled, nodded, and patted my arm with Kichlan’s hand. It had no substance, and I couldn’t feel its touch. The Veil’s borrowed body was just as real as the ghost-memories of the Other’s old world. “All that time, when you were carrying him, fighting for him, sustaining him. You wanted him whole and safe enough to grow up. Because it’s only fair.”

I swallowed hard.
“Y—yes.”

“
Well, here he is.” The Veil stepped back. “And here he can stay. With you.”

I glanced around at the city of my memories. Movoc-under-Keeper before I had destroyed it.
“I don’t understand.”

“
This is all I can offer you,” the Veil said, and sounded sad. “I will not help you continue to imprison me; I will not willingly give up my freedom. But I can give you a place where you and your child are safe. In me. We will travel the universes together, you and I and him. You, safe in this city. No more experiments. No more programs, no more suits. No more sacrifice.”

“
No more Kichlan—” I started to say, but the Veil lifted a hand.

“
You don’t understand, do you? This is the only world where your child will be safe. Where he will not be part crystal, or part silver, or part light or code. Here, he has been born human, and that will never happen on either of the worlds you want to save. Only in me, will he live.”

Oh, Tan
.

We were back to this, were we? One life, again, or two worlds. Only this time, my son was not the sacrifice. Everyone else was.

“How can I make that choice?” I whispered.

“
I’m surprised you think there is one to make. The answer is obvious; what you wanted is right here. What else would you do?”

My son made a small noise. I held him tightly against me, and those tiny hands clutched at my jacket.

Those tiny hands that simply could not be real. Was this pretend world and this impossible baby enough for me? Was I the same as the Other, so desperate for a perfect world that I would allow myself to be fooled and used? Perhaps it was easier than facing the truth, the hard edges and dark spaces of grief. Or was I like the puppet men, in such need of a place to belong that I would destroy whole worlds—whole realities—to find it?

I smiled faintly to myself.
Reality
. What a fluid concept that was becoming.

“
What about you?” I whispered to the tiny body I held. “You. I never even gave you a name.” I’d not allowed myself to think that far ahead. I dipped my head to rest my lips against a softly pink ear. “What choice would you make, if you were ever given one?”

It was not a voice, as such. Even with his new body and its faux mouth my son was too young to speak. But still, I heard him. He spoke, not in words, but in code, in the pulses of light that still connected us. Because this new body was nothing but a veneer. And no matter how solid he might look, how separate from me, we were one. Despite what the Veil might say, he still had not been born.

And my child was laughing at me. Why would I even consider the Veil’s fake alternative? Why give up on the real Movoc-under-Keeper for nothing but a memory? Why did I think we needed the Veil’s help at all?

Wasn
’t it obvious? Was I really that much of a fool?

“
I don’t understand,” I whispered to him.

What
’s happening?
Lad sounded worried.
Tan, what’s going on?”

The Other was wrong. Even if it wanted to, the Veil wasn
’t strong enough to defeat the puppet men. In fact, the Veil was powerless.

I whispered all this, as my son communicated wordlessly, so Lad could hear it. The Veil, wearing Kichlan
’s face, looked on with a bland smile, evidently unable to hear.

Oh, Tan, you
’re right.

The Veil needed others to do its dirty work—the puppet men, the Other—but it couldn
’t compel them to help, it could only manipulate, and lie. It lost parts of itself as the particles tore through it, usurping its power and changing into pions along the way. But it had no control over them. What had it said? It couldn’t touch, couldn’t speak, to the worlds on either side. It was isolated, completely, and could only wait, and hope for the best.

We are the powerful ones, not it. We created ships that split reality, we created programs that travelled between worlds. We trapped the Veil and then we used it. We still do. The Keeper, the Other, the puppet men, they all rode the Veil, but they were not part of the Veil itself.

I looked up, and held the Veil’s gaze. What was it like to be trapped here, to be helpless, and alone, for longer than I could even begin to imagine? Could I really blame it for trying to escape, no matter what the cost?

It can
’t touch anything on the worlds either side of it. It even had to rely on Favian to tell it what was happening in the first place. It can’t actually
do
anything
.

“
I’m so sorry,” I said. “But I can’t do this. I will not sacrifice the light world, and the dark world, for your freedom. No matter how unfair it is, to any of us. I will not give up on Kichlan.”

The body in my hands faded instantly back to light. I forced down a sudden nausea, a deep and shuddering horror, and held my light-son as tightly as I dared. We were still one, no matter what he looked like on the outside. He was still the same.

“I am sorry to hear that.” Kichlan’s face solidified into a stiff, expressionless mask.

Around us, Movoc-under-Keeper disappeared. It faded first into shadow, then became light, entirely. That eternal in-between.

Dimly, I felt a tugging. A flow that seemed to stretch right through me. At my son’s prompting, I glanced behind us. A distant shadowy outline remained. A single door.

“
I will not help you,” the Veil said.

I straightened, squared my shoulders.
“Will you try to stop us?”

The Veil hesitated. The edges of its Kichlan-body grew hazy, and his colours bled out into the vast, surrounding light.

“Could you stop us, even if you wanted to?” I hadn’t felt the Veil when it touched me. And for all its talk, all it had done was show me pictures of home. “You are powerless, aren’t you? Even here, all you can do is play with shadows. If you had power, you wouldn’t still be trapped the way you are. You wouldn’t allow programs to be loaded into you, or particles to pass through you. But you can’t do anything, except wait.”

It said nothing, just gradually faded away.

That’s…that’s horrible
.

“
I know.” I glanced around. Nothing but light. No Other remerged. No ancient pre-Crust landscape sprung up. Nothing but the tugging of worlds and the distant shadow of a door.

“
The puppet men are on the other side of that door. We’ve been through all this, and we still don’t know how to defeat them.”

Don
’t we?

Don
’t we?

I closed my eyes. Lad was with me, my son too. I wasn
’t alone.

Remember what the Other called you, Tan. A tether between worlds. All power in the light world comes from the dark, and you have access to that. Remember what the puppet men are. They
’re programs, code. And so are you—well, a lot of you. And you’ve had a lot of experience with that recently, haven’t you? I don’t believe you’re as helpless as you think you are.

Pushing down guilt and that final image of the Veil, dissolving, I turned, and ran toward the door. The flow inside me grew stronger, with each footstep, drawing me toward the door, back to the light world.

And this time, I will be with you. All of me
.

I stepped through the door.

And fell straight into Kichlan.

One moment there was nothing but light, the rushing in my veins and the faint traces of the Veil
’s mist. And then the weight of the world pressed down on me, and the push of pions knocked me forward, and I was tangled with Kichlan’s arms, face pressed against his chest.

He stared down at me, mouth open, eyes wide, his whole face teetering between shock and the deepest, purest joy.

“Tan?” he whispered, and the word shivered through me. “You—you’re alive.”

So I kissed him. Warm lips, solid lips. Not a dream. Not an illusion.

“Kichlan,” I breathed into his mouth. “Kichlan.”

Then pain seared into me, from my neck down to my ankles. I staggered back. Still stunned, Kichlan let me go.

The child I was carrying wasn’t soft light anymore. He was suddenly hard, suddenly heavy. Suddenly silver and flesh. Beating, pulsing, squirming. I realised, with horror, that he could not survive here, on this side, without my body to support him.

He fell apart, between my hands.

“No!” I cried, as the suit drilled itself back into me. I had forgotten the sensation of its pressure on my neck, its grip around my waist, its weight in my ankles and wrists. I stumbled, hands juggling something I couldn’t even see properly, something that was silver and red and wet and hard and alive. But dying.

“
Tan?” Kichlan reached forward. I turned my body away from him, just enough to hide the horror I was carrying.

“
Miss Vladha. You have returned.”

Puppet men stepped out of the light and the haze and the pain. Smiling, not surprised, not fearful.

“Too late, we are afraid. Too late to stop us.”

“
Tan—ya!” Footsteps, hard and echoing, ran toward me. Kichlan roared as Devich—the not-quite Devich I knew from my dreams—pushed him aside. “Not—dead!” He crouched at my feet and clutched at my ankles, slobbering incomprehensible words, staring up at me, all horrible silver and distended flesh.

Around us, doors were opening. I felt the irresistible tugging of particles moving, of worlds bleeding, and the single, lonesome presence trapped in between.

Get a hold of yourself, Tan.
Lad, still connected to me. He sounded so faint here, stretched between worlds, and yet somehow calm and reasonable, somehow still the stoic programmer willing to give himself up for the good of two worlds and not make much of a fuss about it.
We’re relying on you. You won’t be able to help anyone if you fall apart like this.

I drew a deep breath, and straightened. He was right, and I was being foolish. He had faith in me, my poor unwinding son had faith in me, and it was about time I lived up to their expectations. Kichlan needed me.

I was not weak in this world. I wasn’t weak in either. Not any more.

My suit settled itself, sending spasms and painful twitching up through my arms, down my legs and into my stomach. I felt empty there, as though I was missing more than the weight of a growing child. When Devich stood, silver arms open to try and embrace me, I stretched my suit and pushed him back. It responded eagerly, quickly. Like it had missed me.

“What do you think you can do?” Three solid puppet men and a mass of shifting shadows stared at me, all smug eyes, fake skin and terrible over-wide smiles. But deeper than that, I saw they were code. Just like the illegible symbols bobbing bright on the bands in the wrists, ankles, waist and neck, they were snippets of could-have-been-programs, if they were only arranged the right way. If they only made sense. They were malformed, cobbled together nonsense, given life by the Veil. Pitiful. How strange, to pity them, after everything they had done to me.

Even as I read them, I remembered the parts of the Keeper Kichlan had seen. The Guardian program was still fighting, despite being absorbed into his undead brothers. That meant that some of him still remained, locked in the chaos of the puppet men. So, all hope wasn
’t quite lost. The puppet men thought I was helpless, but I was pretty sure I knew just what I could do.

The child first. We can
’t let him die here and now, can we
?

Lad was right. I looked down to the mess in my hands. His silver was code and he was full of light—tiny and bright hubs of it. But not silex, oh no. I knew that light, and I hadn
’t seen it in oh so long.

I saw his pions.

The whole world was full of them, although most were the painfully bright crimson pions that gave the puppet men their power and form. The same ones that had pushed me from
Grandeur’s
palm. I didn’t fear them now.

I closed my eyes. Learning to control pion sight was one of the first things binders were taught—about the same time as we learned to speak and walk. I drew steadying breaths, tried to remember how to push down the pions I did not want to see, how to focus only on those I wanted to manipulate. Because a world full of pions was bright and beautiful, yes, but it was also very full. Seeing every single pion that existed, from deep inside the world to its surface, was blinding. Like the network, when I had first dipped myself inside it, the pions of the world could overwhelm me.

Both worlds are open to you now,
Lad said.
Pions, code, you can manipulate them both. Just like the puppet men, only you are more than torn parts of a discarded program. We can do this
.

I nodded, and took another deep breath, swallowed against the silver in my throat, and when I opened my eyes this time they were gone. No, not gone. I could feel them, the way I had once done, a sense of energy in the world, of power, of life. Particles borrowed from the dark world, enhanced by the Veil, brushing against us all.

I was pions and code, too. Bright lights bound up with symbols, their threads coiling into circles winding deeper, ever deeper inside me. Pions and program, merging into one. So it didn’t take much. I wound my silver with my son’s silver, and programmed solidity into the debris in his body. Then I called to the pions in his flesh and I bound them back into the unfinished organs, the semi-skin, the not-quite-a-brain that they would have been, if they were still inside me, where they belonged. They responded swiftly, eagerly, flooding over me and crowding me like excited, long lost dogs.

When my son looked similar to the body he
’d had back on the dark world—only with silver instead of silex and no tube to keep him safe—I wrapped him as best I could in my jacket and held him close. I was dressed in the clothes I’d worn when I stepped through the door in the first place, and they were torn, and dirty, and even a little damp. Residual Tear water, I supposed.

Good
.

I shook my head, even as I faced the puppet men.
“He will die like that,” I whispered. “His body isn’t meant to support itself. Not yet.”

Your pions and suit will sustain him. For a little while, at least. There
’s not much more we can do. Not yet
.

“
What are you doing, Miss Vladha?” Some of the smugness slipped from the puppet men’s collective expressions. The three of them glanced around, at the open doors, at the cave walls. “The doors are open, you cannot stop us. There is no point fighting.”

“
There’s always a reason to fight,” Kichlan said.

I glanced at him. He stood behind Devich, his left arm strong and silver, his legs planted wide, his expression somewhere between the old thundercloud I knew so well, and a fierce desire. Shivers ran through me at that look, memories of his touch, of the arguments we used to have, the sound of his screams when Lad died. All of it, everything that was Kichlan, all tied up in those eyes, that stance.

“Doesn’t matter what happens,” he said, and walked around Devich, to come to my side. My heart was beating so hard I could feel it in the heat flushing my face. “Who we lose.” He clenched his silver arm. “What we lose. We have to fight.” Then he held it out to me, palm up, and I took it with my free hand. Silver to skin. The suit I’d given him was warm, and strangely soft, despite its strength. It seemed to mould around me. “Can’t just give in.”

My brother loves you
. Despite the impossible distance, I could hear the strain in Lad’s voice.
He never stopped. Not when I was killed, not when he thought you were dead, not even when he lost his arm. Have faith in him, Tan. Bro is strong
.

“
And now you’re back,” Kichlan said. “There’re a few things I want to talk to you about. So there’s no way I’m going to let these creatures win.”

I could hardly breathe.

“My Lady?”

I turned. Volski and Zecholas stood among the ruins of their pion-binding.

“You’re alive,” Volski gasped. “We thought—they said you were dead!” And he looked so old, worn down and grey. He shook, as he stood. Zecholas held his shoulders, steadying him. Both looked at me with confusion, with hurt, with joy. I knew how they felt.

“
I’m not dead,” I answered, my throat constricted, my voice thick. “I just left for a while. But I’m back now. And—and—I’m sorry. Vol, Zech. I’m sorry for dragging you into this. I’m sorry for destroying your city too.”

Kichlan squeezed my hand, and it reminded me of his brother. I took great comfort from that.

Now’s not the time for apologies
, Lad scolded me.

“
We don’t have time for that,” Kichlan murmured.

And I couldn
’t help but grin.

I glanced around the street. Fedor hung back, still clutching the debris panel, face pale and eyes wide. Natasha held Sofia, helping her stand. Sofia was smiling, and nodding, and I knew, just knew, that she could see me too. Despite the ruin of her eyes. Lev mirrored Fedor
’s expression. Valya had stopped fighting and was watching me, grinning, one arm open like she would embrace me if she could. Devich, on all fours, pressed his stomach to the ground and wept as he stared up at me.

I held my son tighter. Within me, Lad sent me his strength.

You are not alone
.

Nodding, I squared my shoulders.

“That’s enough,” I said, surprised at the strength and clarity of my voice. I actually sounded like I could do this. “I won’t let you destroy this world, or the world beside ours. No matter your reasons, no matter your strength. Despite what the Veil might have told you, and what it wants. I have come back to stop you. And I will.”

I released Kichlan, and flexed silver over my free hand. It slid quickly and spread further, further, into a long whip. I braced my feet and lashed out, but not at the puppet men. Instead, I attacked the doors. No more slipping through their handles; I didn
’t need any help to touch them. They were solid, they were code, and I could read them. I could wrap silver around them and force them closed. One after the other, I slammed them shut. Dimly, I heard Valya cheering.

“
Too late.” One puppet man stepped forward. He lifted both his hands, his mould-on-the-wall eyes drilling through to the pions and the code bound inside my body. “We have had enough of your impossible interference.”

I withdrew my whip, hardened and sharpened it into a blade. I knew they could not manipulate my code—Lad, after all, had reprogrammed it
ages ago, when he was little more than memory in my blood. But they weren’t after me, not this time.

“
No!” Kichlan cried out and clutched at his silver hand. It was changing, sagging into a formless liquid between his fingers. “They’re taking control again.” His eyes grew distant for a moment, and I knew he was listening to the fractured voice of his piecemeal suit. “We rebooted it but they’re exerting their override again. I can’t stop it!”

But I can
. Lad, though distant, sounded so angry and determined it made me shiver.
I will not let them hurt my brother any more. Tan, get me into his suit. Now!

I pitched forward and sent tendrils of my suit into Kichlan
’s, weaving us, code to code. I felt a lurch within me as Lad travelled the silver and dove into his brother. He was stretched through me so thinly, his presence so delicate and fragile, but his knowledge and skill were strong. I had to have faith in them, didn’t I? Both brothers.

Kichlan
’s look of horror eased, and turned instead to wonder. He stared at me, eyes intense, and whispered, “Reprogramming commenced. Emergency protocols deleted. Command set erased. Restructuring.” His head tipped back and he breathed so deeply, his body shuddering, that for a terrible moment I thought something must have gone wrong.

Then Lad was back within me, and Kichlan straightened, shook himself.
“We’re whole again,” he said. And he smiled, grim and sure, and turned to the puppet men. “And we’re too strong for you.”

He was a mess
. I could feel Lad’s exhaustion bleeding into me. His voice crackled as he struggled to maintain our connection.
Between you and the puppet men, you did a right number on his programming. Just goes to show how strong my brother is, that he managed to control that suit at all
. Lad’s fierce pride warmed me from within.