Брендон Сандерсон - Cytonic

“It’s like you came strolling directly out of a barbarian story,” he said. “Except for the jumpsuit.”

“I can fix that,” I said, reaching for the zipper.

The way his eyes bulged was totally worth it. But he looked so uncomfortable that I spun around to face him, raising my hands. “Joking! I’m joking, Jorgen. Don’t faint or anything!”

He shook his head, reaching for a washcloth to wipe the suds from his face. That left his face half-covered with black stubble, which would have been sexy, except…you know, the fact that it was only half the face. I turned back around toward the mirror.

“What happened to your face anyway?” I asked.

Jorgen grimaced. “I squeezed a slug. It didn’t appreciate it and let me know.”

I wanted more details, but I knew our time was short so I didn’t press him.

“I lied earlier, Spensa,” he said. “Command training did not prepare me for you. Nothing could have done that. Anyway, I suppose I should ask for a report.”

“Days passed?” I asked him.

“Since our last visit? Five.”

Yeah, time was odd in the nowhere. I thought it had only been three for me, but I couldn’t tell for certain. “I’ve made progress on my quest,” I explained. “I’ll tell you about that in a minute, but first I have more important intel. Jorgen…I think the Superiority leaders are trying to make a deal with the delvers. An alliance.”

He blinked, then took a deep breath. “That’s unfortunate.”

“That’s all you can say?”

“I was taught not to curse in front of a lady.”

“Good thing there are none of those here, eh?”

He smiled. “You say you think they’ll make a deal. They haven’t yet?”

“Not that I know,” I said. “But the delvers were intrigued by what Winzik said. And judging by what I’ve felt from them…I think it will happen. Unless we find a way to stop it.”

“I’ll report this to Cobb and the command staff,” he said. “It confirms our worst fears, that the delver summoning wasn’t an anomaly—but an appetizer. Anything else?”

“I found a kind of heritage site,” I said. “It’s hard to explain, but I saw some of the history of cytonics, and was taught a little how to better use my abilities. Jorgen, I’m pretty sure we were made when the nowhere leaked into our reality and changed people living nearby.”

“Changed?”

“Think of it like a mutation,” I said. “Caused by specialized radiation seeping through weak spots between dimensions. It means we’re not freaks. We’re mutations.”

“Well,” he said, rubbing his chin in thought. “Though I don’t like the word ‘freak,’ many would call a mutation exactly the sort of thing that makes you one. Certainly, a ‘defect’ could be caused by a mutation. So I’m not sure what you’re saying.”

“I’m saying that we’re not some kind of sleeper agent for the delvers,” I said. “We predate them, in fact. What’s happened is that cytonics have blended with the nowhere—giving us access to it, letting us bend our reality to work the way it does.”

He nodded slowly. “If what you say is true, then we could potentially make more cytonic people.”

“There’s a portal,” I said, “on Detritus, in the tunnels near Igneous. Search northeast of the cavern, near some old pipes in a place with some strange patterns carved in the stone. You might want to study it.”

“I’ll put some people on it,” he said.

“Be careful,” I noted. “A cytonic can fall through and get stuck in here—and it’s hard to get out. So don’t, you know, pull a Spensa.”

“Will do,” he said, meeting my eyes in the reflection. “This is important. I’m glad you stayed, even if it means…well, this.” He gestured at my ghostly state.

“I’m going to continue on the Path,” I said. “First I have to deal with a bunch of pirates though.”

“There are pirates in the nowhere?” he asked.

“Yeah. Awesome, isn’t it?”

“I thought the place was…well…nothingness.”

“Kind of is, kind of isn’t?” I said. “It’s complicated. I’m going to steal a starfighter tomorrow, which should let me get to the next memory dump.”

He backed up to lean against the wall, his arms folded, thoughtful. And for the first time I noticed how tired he looked. It was tough to tell with Jorgen, who always seemed so upright and solid—his dark brown skin making it harder to make out signs of fatigue like bags under his eyes.

“Jorgen?” I said. “You all right?”

“Things are tense here. We’ve found a way to protect ourselves—the planet’s defenses are fully online, thanks to Rig and the engineers.”

“Well, that’s good. You’re safe.”

“Too safe,” he said. “The galaxy is collapsing under the control of a tyrant while we’re hiding. I know we barely started playing on the galactic stage, but it feels wrong to hide. We should be doing something.” He grimaced. “It’s politics, Spensa. You would be indignant if you were here.”

“You can be indignant on my behalf.”

“I’m trying,” he said. “But you know how my parents are. I love them, Spensa, but…they’re partially responsible. They would have us keep hiding, hoping the enemy will just leave us alone. I know that will never happen. I knew it before you told me about what’s happening with the delvers.”

“Maybe my news will be enough to get them to listen.”

“Maybe,” he said, sounding entirely unconvinced.

I glanced around at the decor. I’d noticed that this wasn’t some standard DDF bunkhouse latrine, but now I saw more. Was that gold on the trim? White marble?

“You’re home,” I guessed. “Trying to persuade your parents?”

“I thought maybe they’d listen if I could talk to them outside a formal context. I should have known—they’ve arranged four dinners for me, all with eligible young women from the lower caverns.”

The rich caverns, he meant. The ones best protected from surface attacks. “Good thing I’m not the jealous type,” I said.

“Kind of wish you were,” he said. “If you’d swing by and decapitate one or two of them, maybe the others would give up.”

“Jorgen, please,” I said. “Decapitation is reserved for worthy enemies on the battlefield.”

This coaxed a full-on smile from him. He walked back up to me, and though we couldn’t touch, I could feel his mind behind me—and I successfully resisted the urge to probe his mind with my new talents. We stood there, looking, feeling, for a short time. Because it was all we had.

“You know,” I finally said, “I’m a little surprised to find out you don’t shower in your uniform. I half figured there was some outdated rule that required you to wear it at all times, or suffer one sixteenth of a demerit.”

“Wait until someone hears that I had a girl in the bathroom with me,” he said.

“I’m sure invisible girls don’t count,” I said, and felt myself start to fade. “Take care of yourself, Jorgen.”

“Same to you,” he said. “Consider it an order.”

I nodded, reaching for him. I felt like I got an armful of something—something that was him —as it all vanished and I was dumped back into the nowhere. His essence, like his scent, lingered—as did the picture of him in my head, half-shaven, weary.

Still, this was a success. I’d been able to find him again, and I was more confident in my powers. So confident, in fact, that I did something that might have been stupid. I went looking for the delvers.

Last time I’d dreamed like this, I’d overheard them engaging in an important conversation. Could I do that again? I quested outward, trying to capture the same…sensation as last time. The same location? It was wrong to think of anything in this place as having locations . It was more like frequencies or—