that. C-X turned to level a sharp look on Starcurrent.
“Is this routine? It feels hostile,” she snapped.
“Hospitality and safety?” Ze seemed confused. “This is best to make sure we arrive intact. There are slipstreams close to the sky cities.”
“There’s safety, then there’s commandeering our ship,” she muttered, slapping a palm against the now-useless control panel.
Yeah, knowing we had to go wherever they took us? Didn’t feel great. Still, Starcurrent didn’t seem worried, but they were zis people. Obviously, ze wouldn’t be the first one thrown in a cell if shit went sideways. Maybe these Abyin Dommas didn’t know we were the ones who woke up Lifekiller?
I could hope.
Our ship floated between two undulating structures that looked almost . . . alive, like sky anemones, blue silver and luminescent like deep-sea creatures. An orifice opened, and we got sucked upward, consumed by the building. Well, that was weird.
“Ever seen anything like this?” I whispered to Nadim.
“Zara, I’ve only seen stars and things that live in the black,” he reminded me. “And the places you have taken me.”
So, no. My eyes just kept getting wider because while the Sliver had felt . . . familiar, sort of akin to the Zone, I couldn’t find any commonality here. Inside, it was smooth and dark like a womb, our ship borne along by subtle currents. Chao-Xing still couldn’t get our controls back, but that was probably just as well. Our lights didn’t do shit against the soup we were in. It almost had weight, this darkness, and then with a pop, we were out of it, brightness everywhere, shimmering so it hurt my eyes.
The comm squawked and the voice said something in Abyin Dommas. Starcurrent’s tendrils fluttered a little, but ze didn’t shift hues. Probably a good sign. Finally, Starcurrent gestured at the doors. “Safe to disembark.”
I swapped looks with C-X and she seemed to be on the same page. Safe for Starcurrent or for humans? Just to be careful, I put my helmet on and let it seal with my skinsuit. I’d take my own readings before I chanced it.
Outside the Hopper, which was still floating, I tried to walk and realized I couldn’t. My feet weren’t on the floor. This wasn’t zero-grav, but not far from it. Starcurrent loved it, taking off with all tentacles, using floor, ceiling, and walls to propel, and oh God, ze was kind of beautiful, incredibly graceful. Zis skin burned brilliant with pleasure, gold and shimmering, as ze reached the main chamber up ahead, and I heard the trill of the Abyin Dommas tongue.
I looked at Chao-Xing, smirking. “You first.”
FROM THE BRUQVISZ STORY CYCLE OF THE ABYIN DOMMAS, RECORDED AS SUNG, TRANSLATED IN ELEVEN MILLION LANGUAGES. A LAMENT.
We sing sharp edges and strong shields
The death of worlds comes, consuming
We stand alone in the abyss
Past must die with dreams
Of silent longing
Generations yet to come sing destruction
The dead of worlds cry for revenge
We stand
Singing
CHAPTER TWO
Lost in Translation
THE ABYIN DOMMAS were trilling at each other in their native language, but the second they saw us, they just went . . . silent. And it felt wrong. Ominous. I struggled to comprehend what I was seeing because the Abyin Dommas didn’t stand on their tentacles; they free-floated at various levels, and with all the appendages it was hard to figure out how big this defense council really was. I finally came in with a guess of about twenty individuals. Whether all of them were on the council was anyone’s guess, and maybe it was just my human showing, but I figured at least a third of them had to be assistants.
What do you say when you’re the first human officially saying hey to the aliens? I was about to state the obvious—we come in peace—but luckily Chao-Xing got there first.
She bowed slightly from the waist and said, “Hello, honored people of Greenheld. We hope you have taken no harm.”
Nobody spoke for a few long seconds, and then somebody—I couldn’t tell who—trilled out a long, complicated song, of which my translator only caught a few words. Starcurrent listened, tentacles drifting gracefully in the low-grav, and zis color shifted from that pleased hue to something more muted. Caution, I thought. Ze seemed to debate for a few seconds before ze said, “Leader Searoam thanks you for your courtesy. There are a few casualties; some Elders failed from the strain of defense. Ze wishes to know . . .” I swear, if ze could have cleared a throat, ze would have. “Your intentions toward