ReDawn (Skyward, #2.2)

—

I worried it would be uncomfortable to sleep on the platform, but my brother and the Independence pilots had found the bunk rooms from when the platform was inhabited. There was an entire block of them—more rooms than we could possibly need. The Independence pilots took up residence in one, and Rinakin’s family and some of the other refugees spread out over a few more. The rooms had obviously been used by salvagers in recent years, because the old cushioning had been replaced on all but the top bunks, where it was mostly disintegrated. The other bunks weren’t as soft or as clean as I would have liked, but they were better than sleeping in the cockpits.

The human men all settled into one of the sleeping rooms and the women into another, where they invited me to join them. In one of the adjoining common rooms, Kimmalyn and Sadie divided the algae strips and custard so that everyone got a portion for dinner. I passed on the algae—since we knew the nut wafers were safe for me to eat, I choked a couple down.

    I could have gone to eat with my brother, but instead I stayed with the humans. I needed to make sure they didn’t have any second thoughts about what we were doing here, and besides that I was starting to enjoy their company.

“You can have a cup of custard to dip those nut bars in if you want,” Kimmalyn said, pushing the jug of liquid in my direction.

I peered at the cloudy white substance. “What is it?”

“It’s milk,” Sadie told me. “But like, old milk. I think? I’m not totally clear how they make it.”

“Human milk?” I asked.

“Ew, no,” Sadie said. “Cow’s milk, I think.”

That sounded disgusting. “I’m all right,” I said. “Though I think Happy will take my portion.”

The slug was leaning out of Kimmalyn’s sling, dangling down like it was going to dip its face right into the jug.

“Happy!” Kimmalyn said. “Yours is over here.” She pulled the slug out of the sling and deposited it with the others, who were happily chewing algae strips.

Jorgen approached. FM and Rig hadn’t joined us—last I’d seen she was sitting with Rig in the hangar while he worked on my ship, both of them speaking in low voices.

“Can I ask for your help with something?” Jorgen asked me.

“Yes,” I said, and we walked out into a hallway with a long window looking out into the miasma.

    Jorgen pressed his fingers to the glass, watching the miasma swirl against it. “Since we have a minute, I was wondering if you could teach me something about cytonics.”

“Of course,” I said, and I took a seat on the floor of the hallway, my back opposite the window. The outline of Hollow was dimly visible, its dark branches reaching up toward the red sky.

“Gran-Gran taught me how to meditate,” Jorgen said, sitting down facing me. “To listen to the stars. It helped, but I didn’t end up hearing the stars. I heard the taynix instead.”

“That sounds ultimately more useful,” I said.

“It probably was. But Spensa was able to hyperjump all the way to Starsight.”

“Technically all cytonics have every power,” I said. “I’m not clear on how many there are. We’re only able to manifest some of them deliberately after a lot of training. And some we may never be able to use. Of the five cytonics on ReDawn, I’m the only one who has been able to hyperjump.”

“Which is why the other cytonics weren’t able to follow us here immediately, even before we got the inhibitor up,” Jorgen said. “And if I’m never going to be able to learn—”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” I said. “There are other valuable types of cytonics. Mindblades are supposed to be the most difficult. I’ve never been able to manifest those.”

“You said those are like little bits of the nowhere that cut like razorblades?”

“Yes,” I said. “Like your Boomslug.”

    “Boomslug!” Boomslug said from Jorgen’s shoulder.

“I haven’t been able to do that either,” Jorgen said.

“Let’s start with what’s already working,” I said. “You know how to find my mind and the minds of the taynix. Can you do it now?”

Jorgen absently stroked Boomslug on its spines. He closed his eyes, and I could feel his mind reaching out toward mine.

“Good. Now reach out farther. Stretch yourself over the space of the planet. See if you can find the Unity cytonics. Now that you have the key to the inhibitor, you should be able to find them.”

“It’s easier when I’m closer to the source,” Jorgen said. “When I heard the taynix below the surface of Detritus, there were so many of them, so it was louder—”

“Try, Jorgen,” I said. “Stop focusing so much on what you aren’t able to do, and try.”

I felt his presence in my mind as he reached out. I hate this, Jorgen said. I can’t do enough.

“There you go,” I said. “You can reach me. Now try to find others. And be quieter while you do it. They don’t know yet who you are, and we don’t want to give them that information unless it benefits us to do so.”

“You heard that?” Jorgen said. He sounded embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to send what I was thinking—”

“You have to be careful not to broadcast when you’re making contact,” I said. “But now try the meditation you learned before. Instead of reaching for my mind, reach out into the negative realm that surrounds us, out across the planet.”

    Jorgen was quiet for a long time, while Boomslug tucked itself in the crook of his elbow and snored softly. After a while I thought Jorgen might have fallen asleep sitting up.

“I can feel the other taynix,” Jorgen said finally. “I can’t find any other cytonics—and there’s a space somewhere in the distance, a space that feels…solid. Like I can’t reach into it.”