Harry’s chassis roared to life. He spun. Delilah looked back, saw Ruby holding Sam by the throat, dangling her above the road. Mike raced to get to them. Ruby shook her head, then shot Sam twice in the chest, once in the head, and let her body fall to the street.

  The railgun on Harry’s back raged, the night splitting with white. Round after round hammered Ruby’s position. Delilah was sure the woman took a hit, an arm spinning free, but splintering stone took the details from view.

  Metatech attack craft roared overhead, disgorging troops and carrying the remaining fight to the air and beyond. Delilah began her slow crawl back, hand over painful hand.

  Harry leaned down, grabbing her with massive but gentle fingers. He slung her in the crook of a metal arm, running back to Afterlife. Sadie came from the bar, leaning against the sill. “I know we can’t spare them, but I called anyway. We…” Her voice trailed off as she saw Mike.

  Mike Takahashi crouched in the street, rain pouring like a deconsecration. His shoulders slumped. He held the lifeless body of Samantha Meisner in his arms and wept great, wracking sobs.

  They didn’t find Ruby Page, which meant she still lived. If Delilah was any judge, she’d make her best speed toward home base. Carter said they’d taken out a hacker named Olivia Simons, voice slow and slurred after her fight with Goliath.

  The AI wouldn’t speak any more of her fight with Goliath after Afterlife’s cams showed her Mike’s face. She said you ask me to speak of a scratch when his heart is gone.

  Aircraft after aircraft roared toward the HumanE tower, sleek and black, crossed sabers bringing syndicate war to the streets of Seattle. Metatech left them to it. The war merchants had unfinished business with Human Energetics, and they would have their revenge.

  Chapter Twenty

  Mason put the oracle — oracles? — in a shower, turned the water on, and let them get clean for probably the first time in their lives. Laia chatted with them, happy to speak with people fluent in her own tongue. Listening made Mason understand again how much she sacrificed to shepherd him through the harsh world of Abinal. Their speech was relaxed, unlike Mason’s fumbling efforts with the link’s translator.

  Waking Laia had been his first task. She started groggy, but her eyes escalated from panic to wonder at the two strays Mason fetched from outside. He used a hypo of ancient designer stimulants to get her up. It made her talk about twenty times as fast as normal, and Mason found himself smiling as she babbled to the oracles.

  The shower in the pyramid still worked great. Plenty of water from a well deep underground. Filtration tech designed to supply hundreds of souls more than managed with four. The reactor growling below wouldn’t burn out until whichever star it harvested power from died.

  Mason left them to it. He went to the cafeteria, found rations, and prepared what he could. Like most people on Abinal, the oracles were half-starved. He’d seen their ribs as they undressed for the shower. They had no shame, and Mason wondered if that was because of where they’d been imprisoned, or because when you could see the future a little skin wasn’t a big deal.

  See the future. Sure. Mason sighed. You’ve got two more kids who need an assist. Doesn’t matter if they’re ‘oracles’ or runaways. They aren’t Masters, and you must help them.

  It’s what Haraway, despite her faults, would have wanted. It’s what Mason wanted too, now he understood more about what was valuable in the world. He gathered clothing for them. Modern textiles, warm and strong, but a little too big. There were some things you couldn’t fix in the ass-end of the universe. Mason made his way to the shower room. Steam drifted its welcome around corners, under benches, and overhead. Laughter greeted him.

  Laughter. Whether or not they can see the future, they’ve made Laia laugh. You couldn’t do that in Heaven. He put the clothing next to towels, slinking out. Laia knew where to find him. She always knew.

  Less than thirty minutes later, the overlay marking time, the three children made it to the cafeteria. Their laughter died out ten minutes prior, Mason’s audio noting the drop. The oracles’ eyes were wide as saucers as they took in everything around them. They ate with gusto, sharing no words, gnawing ancient Apsel ration bars like they were a gift from on high.

  The oracles exchanged looks with each other but said nothing. Laia didn’t seem fazed by the quiet. After they finished eating enough food to keep Mason going for a week, he took them to one of the hundreds of spare rooms, then returned to the cafeteria where Laia waited.

  She sat where he’d left her, looking at the empty chairs recently vacated by the oracles. Something gnawed the inside of her, but she saved it, a bone she wasn’t done with yet. “He is Eloi, and she is Nura.”

  Mason took that in. He wasn’t sure how he felt with two more in his care. It didn’t matter they’d found him. They ran across a swamp filled with Seekers to shore up in a place known to kill all who entered. “They’re not short of courage.”

  “They are oracles.” She shrugged. “Once in a thousand years, one is born.”

  “There are two.”

  Laia snorted. “They are one. The clearest visions come from pairs.”

  “Is there an instruction book for this?” At her blank stare, Mason sighed. “I don’t much buy penny fortunes.”

  “Why did you wake me?” Laia looked down. It wasn’t the hard thing that worried at her soul, but it was a road in. “It is too dangerous.”

  Mason put his feet up on the table, ignoring Laia’s raised eyebrow. “I don’t figure the Masters want us dead. They want in, and they want the gate to work.” He tapped his chest. “Maybe they think they can use this gate to power the other one.”

  Laia nodded. She didn’t need to say, But then you’d be dead. “They told me why they’re here.”

  Ah. The road in. The thing she’d been holding inside. “Tell me.”

  “They’re not always right. Oracles are…” She didn’t meet his eyes.

  Mason took his feet off the table, leaning forward and taking her hand. He saw fear in her eyes. “Tell me.”

  “They say a gateway to Heaven will open tomorrow. They say legions of angels will walk Abinal, fighting a war against the Masters.” She looked down to his hand, large and worn, over her much smaller one.

  Mason held still. “Tell me.”

  When she looked at him again, her eyes were wet, sadness brimming over a damn too weak to hold it in. “They say you will die. Not tomorrow, but soon.” Laia’s laugh was bitter. “You will end the tyranny of two worlds. They claimed you will face a mighty foe, tear him from a false throne, and cast him at your feet.” A tear worked down her cheek.

  Mason nodded. “All men die.”

  “You cannot die!” Laia pulled her hand free, hugging herself. “Not you.”

  “All men.” Mason settled in his chair. Two weird kids ran across a field of monsters and claimed you’re gonna die. Feels legit. “I’m sixty-five years old, Laia. Clinics keep me upright. I should have been dead a long time ago. In my line of work, nobody gets out alive.”

  “I won’t let it happen.”

  “There’s good news in all this.” Mason offered her a smile, trying for one gentler than he was used to. It felt good on his face. “The cavalry’s coming.”

  “They’re not always right.” She looked at the ceiling. “How can they come? They do not know where we are. No one knows where Abinal is.”

  “There are some clever people in Heaven.” Mason stood. “Maybe we should get some sleep. Sounds like tomorrow’s gonna be a big day.”

  “How can you sleep?”

  “Same way I always do. Gun under my pillow.” He looked to the door. “I’ve lived with death as a neighbor my whole life. It hungered for me on the streets. It waited in the halls of the syndicate. Every mission, death watched and waited. I don’t want to die. But I probably deserve it.”

  Mason walked to the door. He almost made it when she collided with him, her hug fierce. Laia buried her face against him, hissing, “Don’t die. Don’t die. Not for them.”

  He put a hand on the back of her head. She’s so frightened. You don’t deserve this, not with the life you’ve led. “What about for you?”

  “Not even then.” She looked up, her face marked by tears. “We aren’t worth it.”

  Despite her worries and her words, Laia fell asleep almost straight away. And despite his, Mason couldn’t drift off. After tossing and turning, he took his pillow and blankets, walking the silent pyramid. He lay the makeshift bedding outside the oracles’ room. Mason didn’t know why, but it felt like someone should stand guard. It felt like they might be the one unique thing in the universe worth dying for.

  He woke with a start, sitting upright all at once. A blanket fell away. Mason didn’t remember pulling one over him. Laia slept not far off. She must have woken in the night. Came to find you, because you were here, not where she needed you.

  That took a morbid turn. You need coffee. Mason rose, creeping to the cafeteria on feet silent as the night. He turned on a big machine that promised coffee. It wasn’t anything a barista would be proud of, but the freeze-dried ingredients were good enough to get your heart started. Mason wanted coffee because it seemed the right thing to do. Fighting a battle without a little joe in your life seemed a miserable start to the day.

  He fetched a cup, put it in the machine, dialed in a mocha with seven sugars, and waited twenty seconds for the machine to fill it. When Mason turned, the lattice stopped him dropping the cup. Eloi and Nura stood side by side in the cafeteria’s doorway, two bald kids in an ancient pyramid. “Morning.”

  They nodded. “Good morning.”

  “Hungry?”

  “Yes.” The duality of their voice was weird, but pleasant to listen to. Mason wondered how they did it. “The food we had yesterday was very good.”

  “It’s very old.” Mason retrieved more ration bars, asked the machine to produce ‘orange’ juice from stores hundreds of years old, and put cups and breakfast on the table. He reminded them how to open the ration bars. “Like this.”

  Eloi chewed with vigor. Nura seemed more cautious this morning. So, they’re not the same. Only similar. Nura held her bar in one hand, looking at it the way Mason might look at a slug. “This doesn’t taste good.”

  “You haven’t eaten it.”

  “I don’t need to.” She put the bar down, taking another. “This is better.”

  “Did you wake Laia?” Mason took Nura’s discarded ration bar, checking the wrapper. Strawberry Sunrise. No wonder the kid thought it’d taste like pickled ass. Synthetic strawberry was always a mistake. He peeled it anyway, chewing.

  Eloi shook his head. “She’s not ready to wake.”

  “Are all the kids on Abinal weird, or am I just unlucky?” Mason tossed his half-eaten bar to the table.

  “I told you it doesn’t taste good.”

  “Sometimes you need to be sure, kid. Tell me how I die.” He saw in their faces they hadn’t expected that. Eloi stopped chewing mid-motion, Nura’s hand frozen in a reach for another ration bar.

  Eloi finished chewing, then swallowed. “In fire.”

  Nura nodded. “In glory.”

  “In bullshit.” Mason stretched. “Can you do me a favor?”

  “Anything for the warrior of Heaven,” they said in unison.

  “Maybe two favors.” Mason counted on his fingers. “First, tell me why you talk together sometimes, and separate others. Second, don’t tell Laia I’m going to die.”

  Eloi and Nura shared a glance. Nura sighed. “We can’t help telling the truth.”

  “You should work for a syndicate sometime.” Mason stood, heading for the coffee machine. He needed more help washing all this truth down.

  Eloi said, “The prophecy speaks through both of us. Laia needs to prepare.”

  “Laia needs to make it to legal drinking age.” Mason watched a machine built before he was born make coffee from plants long dust. He leaned forward, shoulders bunched. “This damn world.” Mason didn’t say which one. It didn’t matter.

  “You don’t die today.”

  “Good news.” Mason sighed. “When does the gate open?” Blank stares. “Warriors from Heaven. All that shit.”

  “After the sun reaches its peak.”

  “I’ve got time for a shower, then.” Mason walked to the door. He slowed, then stopped as he passed their table. “I don’t mind dying.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “I mind that she minds me dying.” He didn’t know what else to say, so he left Eloi and Nura staring at his back.

  Mason waited outside the pyramid. He’d left Laia, Eloi, and Nura inside. Laia could cause powerful mischief if the Masters took her over, and Eloi and Nura would get underfoot.

  The sun waited high above. The day was cool despite its glare. Seekers by the hundreds waited in the tree line. Mason came better prepared this time. While the future-seeing miracle kids thought reinforcements were coming, they’d been light on details. This was concerning on multiple counts, but the first two were are they on Team Mason and are they going to get sucked into mind-control hell.

  Mason brought a table outside. He’d loaded the robots with boxes because he didn’t like heavy lifting despite his bionics, then walked outside with them following like obedient dogs. Rifles of different types. Armor piercing ammunition nestled in the same magazines as hollow-point bullets. He’d found a rocket launcher, and idly wondered what kind of game Apsel played at when they’d brought that to this planet.

  If it comes to using that, you’re boned.

  The pyramid waited at Mason’s back, continuing its hundred-years vigil. He spied movement at the tree line as a lone man walked into the clear perimeter. He wore the hooded robe of a Master but carried a piece of white cloth. “In your world, I believe this is a sign of parlay.”

  This is new. “I never figured you for the negotiating type.” Mason watched the man stride forward, steps sure, arrogance in every movement. His optics zoomed. The asshole looked behind Mason to the pyramid, his eyes going distracted for a moment, a Master looking for minds. Mason glanced at the white cloth, then grabbed a rifle, shouldered it, and shot the Master through the head, then put another two rounds into his torso before the body could fall.

  The Seekers at the tree line shifted but made no rush. Another Master walked forward, a woman with long dark hair wound in a braid. “He came under a sign of peace!”

  Mason sighed. “Really?” He ignored her startled look. “He was trying to get into someone’s mind. Broke all the rules before we’d even started.”

  She walked closer, but a little more cautiously. She picked up the white cloth, her braid falling over her shoulder as she bent, sliding back as she straightened. “We come in peace.”

  Mason felt her clutch at his mind, unbelievable pain running through him. The lattice reacted, the rifle firing ten rounds, all placed center mass. She jerked, falling, to lie beside her companion. The pain stopped after the second round, but it never hurt to be sure.

  They’ve got to be running out of dudes. Laia and Mason’s three-month mission put many Masters in the ground. They’d freed others like Laia, but none they’d found had been as strong. They sent them away, not wanting to know where they ran, because knowledge like that could be plucked from your mind. Abinal’s population was mostly normal, like Mason without the tech, only the elite rulers being Masters. The one percent of the one percent. Still, there can’t be many left. The ones they’re sending are younger.

  There were still enough Masters to hold a crowd of Seekers in place. Mason eyed the army arrayed against him, wondering when the sky would open.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Austin stood under an umbrella useless in a rainy, windy street in Seattle, looking at his old employer Reed’s Tower Prime. He wished he were somewhere warm and dry. There’d been so many colossal cock-ups, he felt he needed to give this his personal attention. If there was a way to get Goliath walking around, Austin could stay inside with catering and climate control.

  Reed’s seen better days. He smiled, feeling the warm glow of satisfaction that comes from seeing a bunch of assholes get theirs. Schadenfreude at its very best. The building stretched into the sky above, the top lost in the cloud layer. The windows were dark. No one was here, not since the stock hit a value of zero and the company noped right out of the world.

  While Austin spent a lot of time and money buying real estate because it was nice to own things, he avoided Reed’s Tower Prime. Sure, they’d come knocking, checking whether the stock darling Human Energetics wanted a little central city action. But he wouldn’t spend a dollar to help Reed, not after they’d thrown him out on the street.

  Austin looked to his feet, sighing at the water stains on his white moccasins. His cream suit wasn’t faring any better. He looked back to Reed, noting many lower windows were missing. Say what you would about looters, but as a group collective they had a work ethic. He brushed water from his sleeve, sniffed, and turned to Ruby. “You know where to go?”

  She nodded, rolling her shoulder. It was new, metal bolted on after the encounter at Afterlife. He had it on good authority it wasn’t the only update she’d put in place. Ruby liked to be prepared.

  Austin wanted Carter, but there was more than one way to tackle that problem. A frontal assault wouldn’t win any awards for genius since Metatech got in on the action. The assault on HumanE’s tower left many people dead, and it was only with excessive use of the Complier they’d managed to get the Metatech force to leave.

  Someone worked out how to undo Austin’s link-jacking. He couldn’t take over Metatech employees like sock puppets anymore, and Afterlife was in their care, so it left one option. The rumored-but-never-seen gate technology. Goliath showed footage of the strike on Apsel Federate, highlighting stolen goods in a cart, ex-Metatech operative Delilah Griffiths spearheading the campaign. Austin pursed his lips, eying Ruby. Page was excellent. On board with all his plans, no need for the Decider or Complier. Despite that, she’d been less effective.