The corridors of Zero felt like the longest and emptiest they had ever been. I should have hurried back to the thren to report on what had happened, but my feet dragged. My limbs shook with such force that I had to steady myself with a hand against the wall. The metallic tang of blood filled my nostrils, and I could feel it cooling against my palms, growing tacky and stiff.

  But each heavy, shaky step brought me closer, and finally I stood before the large doors of the thren. They were open, and I slid into the dramatic lighting. The people were exactly as I had left them, thinking and talking and arguing.

  Commander Sentix noticed me first. He had his head tilted to one side as if deciding whether to have a nap. When he saw me, his distorted face twisted in shock, mouth opening and eyes widening. He made a sound, although I couldn't hear more than a gurgle, and he waved at me.

  Then Rashala saw me, and she screamed. Long and piercing, a practised sound drawn from deep in the throat. It shook Larkin out of his annoyed daze, and he started to shove her aside, but checked himself in time. It also silenced the debate between Mother and Aini, and they turned to stare at me in silence.

  Why was I such a cause for horror? Could they read what had happened in my eyes?

  Ah, no. I looked down at my new flight suit, now red and sticky with blood, streaks drying to rust-brown at the edges.

  As I wasn't allowed to shout across the thren, I walked across, watching as they shrank back from the sight of me.

  "What have you done?" Mother gasped.

  I stared at her. Indeed, what had I done? Many things, none of which I was able to articulate just then.

  I mean, I wanted to speak. Wanted to tell them what I had seen in the White Room, what Yeller had done, but I didn't know which words would be right. If only I could find the right words, perhaps they would understand...

  All of a sudden, my breath felt hot and cloying against my face. I was choking, strangled by my own thoughts. I hauled in a gasp of air, but it wasn't enough. The veil pressed against my lips, trapping heat and moisture, thinning each breath. My fingers flew to its edges. For a moment, I hesitated, aware of all the eyes fixed on me, but then I did it.

  I removed my veil.

  There it lay, a piece of fabric in my hands, smeared with blood. I folded it carefully and put it in my pocket because I would never wear it again. Then I raised my bare face to Mother and said, "There has been an unfortunate accident."

  "Are you all right?" Aini asked. She was hugging her functionary-component arm to her side, as if trying to trap it.

  "Yes, I am quite well, thank you," I said. "But I must sadly report that Fron is dead and Lidaros is gravely injured."

  Small gasps from Mother and Rashala. Aini and Larkin gaped in silence. A rumble from Sentix that sounded almost like grim satisfaction.

  "What?" Aini said finally. "Where are they?"

  "Redd has taken both to the medical room," I said. "If you—"

  "What happened?" This was Mother, her hands curling into claws, ready to grab me by my face.

  I looked down. "Yeller is the one responsible. The details are not yet clear, but it may have found them in a forbidden area, doing forbidden things."

  There was another sound from Sentix. A soft grunt, like a man being punched, or one who had spent a century being bent by mechanical hands.

  "No," said Mother. "That is impossible. You are wrong. You are lying." Her gaze narrowed. "This is your doing."

  "Murderer!" Rashala screeched, grabbing Larkin by his flight suit jacket. "She did it!"

  "No," I said, turning to Aini. "Pathfinder, please come with me. They are both in our medical room. I can show you where it is."

  She nodded mutely and followed me out of the thren. Chaos erupted behind us. I heard Mother calling on Brons to restrain Sentix. The commander shouting "Fools!" Plates crashing against walls. Glass shattering on the floor. Larkin's voice cutting through: "Get off me! Now!" Rashala's hysterical sobs: "They'll kill us! The machines! They'll kill us all!"

  The door slid shut, sealing away the pandemonium, leaving only the sound of our footsteps in the corridor.

  ?

  The cool, quiet air of the medical room was thick with the smell of antiseptic and blood. Aini stood at the threshold for a moment to take in the scene: Redd in full medical mode, with multiple appendages and instruments moving quickly over the fleshy body of Lidaros. On the table behind them lay Fron, covered in a sheet, Magent standing still at his feet.

  "Is it safe to enter?" Aini asked.

  "Yes," said Redd. "You may approach."

  "No, I..." Aini frowned and took hold of my shoulder. "I was talking to Shade."

  I placed my hand on hers. "We can go in," I said. "It is safe."

  As safe as anywhere on our voidhold. On any voidhold.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  Redd had stripped Lidaros of his clothing, although pieces were still burnt into his skin. The damage was clear: Yeller had hit him across the torso and legs with its discharge weapon, and had crushed and pierced his upper body with its manipulators. It had, however, missed the head and throat. I did not know how to feel about this sight. I didn't want to be near Lidaros, not before, not now, nor ever again. I wanted him to be far away in Voidhold Two, not lying broken on a table in my home.

  I focused on Redd's movements, which were fast and delicate, like when Turq pollinated the garden's smallest flowers.

  Aini was still. "I need to get him to our facilities in Two," she said.

  "Movement is not yet advised," said Redd. "I shall inform you once I have achieved stabilization."

  She swallowed hard. "Will he live?"

  "Prognosis uncertain," Redd replied, multiple arms working with inhuman speed. "Severe trauma to thoracic cavity. Internal bleeding. Burns across twenty-three percent of the body surface. I am administering targeted healant and pain suppressants."

  Aini turned to the covered form on the other table. "And Fron?"

  "Beyond restoration," Redd stated. "Neural activity has collapsed."

  She closed her eyes briefly, a muscle jumping in her jaw. When she opened them again, they were hard.

  "My priority now is bringing these two men back home." She turned her flint-like gaze on me. "I don't know what happened out there, Shade, but this isn't over."

  I nodded. "I understand, Pathfinder. Redd will inform you when transport is safe. I will arrange whatever assistance you require for the return to Two."

  Judging by her deepening frown, those were not the words she had been expecting.

  "What of this rogue machine?" she asked. "This Yeller. Has it been contained?" Her eyes flickered to Redd, and she continued in a whisper. "Will its madness spread?"

  "Yeller is sealed in the White Room," I said. "And it is in an error state that it is unable to exit. I think they were trying to—"

  Her raised hand cut me off. "We will not discuss the details now. And anyway, they are irrelevant. A machine killed a human. I have seen where this leads. With my own eyes." She nodded grimly. "There is only one way to deal with this. Destroy the rogue machine, reset all the others, and evacuate the voidhold until we can get a human crew in here."

  I let the silence stretch between us, watching Redd's work on Lidaros' mangled body.

  "Pathfinder," I said finally, "Voidhold Zero cannot function without functionaries."

  She gestured toward Fron. "And we cannot survive with murderous machines. I care not for your commander's words. The ravings of a man who spent a century frozen."

  Though I saw doubt flicker across her face.

  Over beside Fron's body, Magent suddenly moved. "Shade, you are required in the thren," it said. "Mother is requesting your presence."

  ?

  I heard the screams well before I got to the thren. But they were screams of fury, not fear. Carefully rounding the corner, I found Larkin backed against a wall, Rashala's face inches from his, her fists pummeling his chest.

  "You've never cared for me!" she shrieked. "Not once! We're about to die in here and all you can think about is getting back to that miserable trash heap!"

  Larkin tried to fend off her blows, pushing her away. "Stop it, Rashala. This has gone far enough."

  "Gone far enough?" She laughed, high and brittle. "We're just beginning, my love. You think you can leave me here after this? After what machines have done?"

  "That's not my concern. My assignment here is—"

  "Assignment?" Rashala's voice cracked. "Is that what I am to you? An assignment?"

  "You know what I mean." Larkin finally caught her fists and pushed her back. "I've done everything that was asked of me. I bonded with you. I fulfilled my role. But this—" he gestured wildly at the corridor around them, "—this insanity isn't what I signed up for."

  They noticed me then, standing in the shadows. Rashala's face transformed instantly, her fiery rage settling into something chilled and seething.

  "You." She stalked toward me. "This is all your doing."

  I stood my ground. "No, I didn't do this."

  "Liar!" She stopped just short of touching me. "You've planned it from the beginning. Stealing my husband, running away to Voidhold Two, and now—" her voice dropped to a venomous whisper, "—now your machines are killing people. Our guests. Our allies."

  "They aren't your allies," Larkin said, his voice suddenly tired. "They aren't here to help ."

  Rashala whirled on him. "What does that mean?"

  "Never mind." He shook his head. "It doesn't matter anymore."

  "It matters to me!" she shrieked. "Tell me what you know, husband. What secrets have you been keeping?" When he didn't answer, she turned back to me. "And you. You've always hated me. You've always been jealous."

  "Rashala," I said, "despite everything, I have never hated you."

  "Don't lie to me!" She flung her arms wide. "You wanted my life! My happiness! And now you've gone and ruined everything." Tears tracked down her flushed cheeks. "Mother was right. You're nothing but a functionary's pet, and soon, you'll be just as broken as they are."

  Larkin stepped between us. "Enough. This isn't helping anything."

  "Oh, now you want to protect her?" Rashala's laugh was jagged. "After she's destroyed our home?"

  "Our home?" Larkin's control finally snapped. "This isn't a home—it's a prison. A graveyard filled with the ghosts of people and machines playing at being human!" He ran a hand through his hair. "And I've had enough. I'm getting off this nightmare of a voidhold as soon as Aini is ready to leave."

  Rashala went very still. "You can't leave me."

  "Watch me."

  Her voice dropped to a whisper. "If you try, I'll make sure you never see Voidhold Two again." Her eyes darted between us. "Either of you."

  Larkin shook his head. "Just stop it, Rashala."

  "Stop?" Her smile was terrible. "You forget who I am. I am a daughter of this voidhold. I've learned a thing or two from watching our functionaries all these years." She took a step back. "Brons has been very...educational."

  Larkin slumped against the wall as he watched her storm off,

  "What have I done?" he muttered.

  I studied his face, seeing for the first time the weight of his deceptions crumbling around him. The man who once commanded rooms with easy confidence now seemed small, lost in corridors he couldn't navigate.

  "You tried to survive," I said. "Like all of us."

  He looked at me—Shade the unveiled and bloodstained. His eyes no longer held the pity I had seen when he had first arrived. There was now a flicker of appreciation, tainted with fear. The distance between us had collapsed in ways neither of us had anticipated.

  "I never meant for any of this to happen," he whispered. The certainty was gone from his voice.

  "I know."

  We stood in silence amidst the distant hum of the voidhold. Without my veil, I felt strangely exposed yet liberated. Larkin's gaze kept flitting to my face.

  "Your scar," he said finally, gesturing vaguely to my lip. "It's not as bad as I remember from before."

  I touched the old wound. "No. I suppose not."

  He nodded slowly. With his head leaned back against the wall, exhaustion etched into every line of his face, he looked like an old man. "You know, they told me that Zero was cold and empty," he said. "That the machines ruled while the humans were just...fragments will." His mouth twisted. "And yet here I am, finding warmth and fullness."

  I watched the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, wondering what warmth and fullness he could possibly have found in our sterile halls. Rashala's desperate clinging? Mother's calculated manipulation? Or something I couldn't see from within my limited perspective?

  The dried blood on my hands cracked as I flexed my fingers. "You should prepare your craft for the return flight. Aini wants to leave as soon as Lidaros is stable enough."

  He levered himself up from the wall with visible effort. "Nothing would please me more."