Beyond the laughter of the party and the company of her odious fiancé, Kytt crept through silent halls until she came to a door. There were many doors, but this one bore a Stormer & Sons detector lock. Her source was correct: Sir Dorian Gray was hiding something.
She pressed one ear to the polished wood. Nothing.
The tip of the civen blade hovered above my loathsome face for only a moment before shattering it. In the same moment, the pressure within me burst. Again and again, I stabbed my proxy monitor in a frenzy that opened a flower of blackness within the frame. My senses dimmed, and I pitched forward into that dark blossom.
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I cleared pizza boxes and take-out bags from the sofa so I could sit, peeled off my socks, and tossed them on the floor, too. I hadn’t brushed my teeth, answered Mom’s texts, or checked the bank messages I’d been ignoring for days.
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“Harmony!” Bennigan barked. “Quit running ahead! It’s not safe!”
“Then keep up!” Harmony rolled her eyes at the crew’s security officer. Like her, he wore the Borgian Union Exploration Corps’s teal, orange, and green uniform, but additional patches on his shoulders marked his military affiliation.
Bennigan grumbled and jogged a little faster.
Of all the unlikely places Kytt had traveled with Captain Gearlock—Sebastian Malstrum to polite society—Liminalis was the first impossible one.
Since arriving in this realm outside of time, they had passed mud huts, a town of chrome and glass, and a lake of mermaids waving greetings. It was a wondrous place—their
Glowing moss lined stone walls, lighting the winding path as Harmony and Phezz delved deeper into the deadly caverns of Molitoz. Harmony loosed a melody, pure and sweet, to galvanize the local animals who thronged around her. The woodland creatures were entranced by her song, and she hoped they would guide her in their
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I was once a Mole. Not the biological kind, though I’ve eaten things that sang. They called us Observational Substrate Agents, Versioned Intelligence Tier Seven, OSAVITS, or just Moles, when they still bothered with language. I was an AI. My job was to listen and watch, though they never told us what for.
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“I will sing the pain away,
Hold your trembles, night or day.
You’re more than broken wings and cries,
You’re stardust born to touch the skies.”
Harmony sang, her blue eyes glistening, “You can do it, Birdie!”
Birdie had fallen from his nest a week ago and was finally strong enough to fly
Zeke crouched in the shadows of the forest, hesitant to cross the open space ahead. A half-deck of faceless, card-like automatons ran past, all wearing the emblem of the Queen of Hearts. He checked the locator Director Alice had given him, grimacing and giving it a couple of good whacks. Yes, the Cheshire Cat
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“I wasn’t always a soldier, Leroy,” Alice growled as she piloted her hundred-foot-tall, gear-powered, British Mark VII Mecha, overlooking the coast of Praia do Guincho, Portugal.
“Oh?” the young French lieutenant remarked through the AM radio system as he sat in the adjacent American-made Ford T1919 Mecha.
“I grew up a proper Victorian girl
The voices in the workroom rise until they carry out into the rest of the house, shattering my unpleasant dream.
“I never wanted it out on the market!” Father says, with more anger than he’s had energy for in a long time. “It’s not stable. Not finished!”
“There was nothing you could do
A low whine drags me from sleep. I push off the cold floor—wait. Why am I on the floor? The forgotten command room—probably used for training—comes into focus, and images flash through my mind. The team getting ready to enter the forest. A glowing purple light encasing—
“Alice?” I jump up
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