Zodiac (14 page)

EMBRACED IN SIBLING AFFECTION,
the
Twin Guardians of Gemini look so angelic, they could be cherubs in a frieze—except for their tunnel-like eyes. Eyes so deep they’re endless.

The puppet show either wraps or reaches intermission because the puppeteer scurries right past us. Everyone is applauding. “How should we introduce ourselves?” I whisper.

Hysan says, “How about we send a message requesting an audience and then reveal ourselves once they accept—”

“No more tricks.” Mathias tugs at his veil collar. “How do I get this thing off?”

“We’ll lose our advantage,” whispers Hysan.

I shake my head. “Mathias is right. We came for their trust—how will it look if we don’t give them ours?”

With a sigh, Hysan gives a quiet command. Our veils switch off, and twenty pairs of wide, coffee-brown Geminin eyes turn toward us. There’s a hush, then a series of shrieks as some of them have meltdowns and others scatter away, like they’re really frightened children.

“Sorry,” I say feebly from the front of the room. “We . . . we apologize for our sudden appearance, but we come in friendship.”

Instantly, the Twins spring up from their blue pillow. Their metallic costumes throw off brassy scintillations, and their faces shimmer with opalescent skin paint, the kind Deke’s family manufactures. “Welcome!”

They speak in unison, in a cheerful singsong. “Holy Mother Rhoma, how delightful. We’ve been expecting you.”

I freeze. “You have?”

They give a signal, and the remaining little Geminin scurry out, whispering and giggling. Arm in arm, the Twins sashay toward us, beaming. As we exchange the hand touch, one of them—the girl—says, “My name is Rubidum, and this handsome fellow is my brother, Caaseum.”

Caaseum rises a few centimeters into the air and kisses my hand. I notice he’s wearing levitation boots to enhance his height. “Rhoma Grace, what a privilege it must be to reign over a Cardinal House.” Cardinal Houses mark the changes of the seasons, and each represents one of the four elements of life: Earth, Air, Fire, and Water. “We have so many questions for you!”

The Twins usher us off the stage and toward the pillows where they were seated. We pull over a few more, and we all sit down. The moment we’re settled, I say, “I’ve come to warn you—”

“About an enemy as old as time,” says Caaseum, nodding genially.

My eyebrows pull together in confusion. “How do you know?”

“Good Mother, why just this morning the stars showed an omen! Have you not been consulting?”

Mathias, Hysan, and I stare at him in shock. The depths of his eyes make me nervous. “You mean you’ve seen him?”

Caaseum shuts his eyes and presses a hand dramatically to his forehead, like a fortune-teller at a fair. “I’ve seen someone powerful in the Psy is challenging you, someone using a timeless weapon. That’s why you’ve come, am I right?”

“He’s going to attack your House using Dark Matter,” I say firmly.

“Remarkable.” Rubidum gives me a vivacious smile. “Admiral Crius said you were coming to raise relief funds, but this is much better. Tell us more. I love your accent.”

Caaseum leans toward me. “Did you bring your stone with you?”

“My stone?” His change of topic addles me. “You mean my black opal? We left it on the ship.”

“Black opal? Intriguing.” Caaseum’s eyes shine brighter. “The omen I saw was open to many interpretations. What I described is only one view. My Ephemeris may not be as precise as your stone. We should compare.”

He opens his left hand, and the drawing on his palm starts to glow. The Geminin version of a Wave is a Tattoo. Each one is unique—in look and function—because every person designs and programs their own. When tiny stars spray upward from his palm, I yell, “No! Please don’t use your Ephemeris!”

“Not use my Ephemeris?” He stares at me. “That’s like telling a bullet-ship not to speed.”

“Or telling a Sagittarian not to ask nosy questions,” says Rubidum with a laugh. “Close your hand, brother. You’re making our young friend uncomfortable.”

“If you insist.” Caaseum briefly slings his hand, and the glow in his palm vanishes.

I blink to clear my head. “Listen. Ophiuchus struck our world with a Psy attack. He made our moons collide. And your House may be next.”

When they flinch back and stare at me, I launch right in, describing the Dark Matter, the pattern in the stars, and my encounters with Ochus. Next I explain the omens I saw for Houses Gemini and Virgo. “You need to build shelters. Make an evacuation plan. Ochus will show you no mercy.”

“
Ochus?
Priceless. This could be an opera.” Rubidum takes up a small musical instrument and rapidly plucks its strings, filling the air with melody. “My sources said your were quite a spinner of tales, and they weren’t wrong.”

“Tales?” I have to force myself not to shout when I say, “Twenty million of my people are dead!”

Rubidum plays more vigorously. Her fingers fly along the strings. “You want revenge.”

“Absolutely,” I say. “But first I want to make sure your people are safe.”

“Murder and vengeance, a classic. I hear the theme song now.”

“Can it, Rubi,” says her brother. “Our guest is in mourning.”

“I’m aware of that.” Rubidum’s music grows darker, stormier, and her eyes seem to hollow out like a pair of deep caves. “Revenge is a tale that never ends. It goes round and round forever, and no one finds peace.” She plays a run of soft descending notes. “It’s very sad, what happened to your moons, but as the years go by, you’ll gain perspective on these ups and downs. No one escapes the vagaries of nature.”

“Nature had nothing to do with this.” I glance from one twin to the other. “Ophiuchus ravaged my world, and he’ll do the same to yours.”

Caaseum inches toward me. “Let’s consult your black opal. I’ve heard fascinating reports of its powers.”

“You should watch for abnormally high traces of Psynergy,” I press on. “Do you have a Psy shield?”

“Never heard of such a thing.” Caaseum tilts his head. “Interesting idea. A metaphysical shield.”

“How would it operate?” Rubidum asks brightly.

I steal a glance at Hysan, hoping he’ll speak, but he’s watching me with narrowed eyes. Suddenly he breaks into a genial smile and pulls me to my feet. “This has been a charming visit, but we really should be on our way,” he tells the Twins.

“Oh, don’t go yet.” Rubidum springs up. “You’ve only just arrived.”

“And I have much more to tell you about your enemy.” Caaseum hurdles over beside me. He’s amazingly fast. “Please stay.”

I hesitate. My intuition urges me to listen. Maybe he saw something that can help us. But we also need to warn Virgo as soon as possible, and we’ve already spent too much time here. Finally, I say, “We can spare a few more minutes.”

“Ah, the omen’s far too complex to cover in a few minutes.” Caaseum puts a finger to his chin. “I have an idea. Why don’t I come with you, and we’ll discuss things along the way?”

Rubidum purses her lips. “Really, Caasy? Another junket?”

“Mother Rho and I have much to contemplate, Rubi, dear.” Caaseum turns to me, and when his eyes meet mine, I don’t know what to make of this strange, elderly child. His face is smooth and untouched by time, yet his eyes are eerily ancient.

“Okay,” I say at last. “Come with us.”

Hysan and Mathias both snap their gazes to me in alarm, but Rubidum’s eyes sparkle. “In that case, enjoy your journey, brother. And try to keep your eccentricities in check.” While brother and sister embrace and peck air kisses at each other, Hysan and Mathias pull me aside.

I speak first, so they’re forced to listen. “I know what you’re going to say, but this is our best option. It gets us back in the air fastest, it gets me the information Caaseum saw in his Ephemeris, and it gets the people of Gemini a final chance. I can use the flight time to convince Caaseum to take my warning seriously. If he believes me, he can send a message to Rubidum when we get to Virgo.”

Both guys look like their resolve is crumbling in light of my reasoning. “It’s Gemini’s only chance,” I add unnecessarily. They’re not fighting me anymore.

When the siblings pull away, Rubidum takes my hands. “You’re a vivid storyteller, Mother Rho, very inventive. You’ve totally won me over. I hope we meet again.” With those words, she lifts her stringed instrument and plays a rollicking waltz. Apparently, this is how Twin Rubidum bids farewell.

We head into the corridor, now thronged by curious Geminin. Their russet heads fill the passage, and they bob up and down, trying to see us. As we weave through the crowd, Caaseum takes my elbow. “Where is your ship? I’ll have a food locker delivered.”

On my other side, Hysan puts his lips close to my ear. “There’s something devious about the way he watches you.”

When Mathias glances back and sees Hysan whispering to me, his face darkens.

The pretty little Geminin kids keep shoving against me, touching my skin with their soft searching fingers. They jam the passage, blocking our way, and the air is so thick with their cloying perfume of drugs, my head swims . . . until Mathias lifts me up in his muscular arms.

“Make way!” he booms, and the crowd parts in two halves. While the Geminin people stand back, murmuring and pointing, he carries me across the balcony, down the moving staircase, and all the way outside to the sunny Imaginarium. Even though he’s doing all the work, I’m the one feeling breathless.

Unfortunately, an even larger crowd is congregating on the plaza. Hysan comes up behind us and says, “We’ll have to activate the veils.”

Mathias sets me down. “Where’s Caaseum?” I turn to see him parading toward us, flanked by his adoring subjects. When he comes near enough, I seize his hand. “Whatever happens, hold on to me.”

Hysan activates our veils, and as a collective gasp rises from the crowd, Caaseum says, “Now this is a trick I want to learn!”

Mathias wraps a protective arm around me and pushes ahead, nudging people aside so we can pass. The Geminin gripe and kick when they feel our shoves, but they can’t see us. All the while, I keep a tight hold on Caaseum’s wrist, dragging him along like a toy. When he realizes what’s happening, he lets out a hoot of pleasure.

By the time we make it back to the ship, I feel like I haven’t slept in days.

“I SENSED A CORRUPTED SOUL
who’s set his sights on you. This may hold many meanings, but of one thing I’m certain.”

“Please don’t keep me guessing,” I say for the tenth time. Caaseum plays with me the way kids play with their food. It’s infuriating.

“I wish you’d call me Caasy.”

“Okay . . . Caasy. What is it you’re certain of?”

The Geminin Guardian and I are in
Equinox
’s galley, talking over glass vials of hot tea. We left House Gemini an hour ago, and after a fight in which Hysan and Mathias nearly resorted to martial arts, we’re traveling at top speed toward House Libra.

We had to strike this compromise because, after all, we’re on Hysan’s ship, and he’s frantic to alert his own House. At least he trusts my warning.

He promised me the detour would be brief. Caaseum—
Caasy
—doesn’t seem to care where we go. He’s treating this like an adventure. Mathias is holed up in his quarters meditating, and Hysan’s at the helm. This is the first moment I’ve had alone with Caasy.

“Dear Mother, tell me again why we can’t use your black opal. I think you’re overstating the risk.”

“Just trust me. It’s a rule.”

I used to hate when people said things like that to me. But Caasy knows why we’re flying dark. I’ve already explained our situation three times, yet he keeps going back to it. At first I thought his lapses in understanding were genuine, but now I think he’s toying with me in more ways than I realized.

At least he promised not to use his Tattoo when he got on the ship, and since Hysan has the Psynergy shield up, he won’t be able to access the Psy even if he tries. So far, Caasy hasn’t noticed. I hope it stays that way.

“So what are you certain of?” I ask again, trying to keep my impatience from slipping out with my words. He munches on a sweet biscuit. I tug my plush yellow hood around my ears and pretend I don’t want to reach out and smash that cookie in his face.

I dropped my space suit and the blue Zodai uniform in the refresher to clean them in time for our next stop. In the meantime, Hysan lent me a hooded Libran uniform. It’s as soft as a blanket, and its smart fabric actually senses my body temperature and thickens when I get cold. I’ve never worn anything like it.

Caasy takes a sip of tea from his vial, and when he’s run out of ways to drag the moment out longer, he says, “You have been singled out, but not by the one you think.”

I frown. “It’s Ophiuchus. Trust me. I discovered who he is, and he wants to shut me up.”

“Possibly.” Caasy sips more tea. “But I sense you are being deceived. That deception hangs over you larger than anything else. If it is not Ophiuchus who is deceiving you, then you must find out who is. Until then, this deception will cloud your judgment.”

I think about this new piece of the puzzle, turning it around and around in my head, like I’m trying to find the right orientation to make it fit everything else I know. I’m deceived—by whom? Someone close to me?

Immediately the faces of Mathias and Hysan come to mind. I don’t believe one of them is against me. They’ve been saving my life this whole time. I stare at the youthful old face before me, and suddenly something else occurs to me. He’s been having a lot of fun at my expense; couldn’t this be Caasy taking things too far?

“I don’t think I’m deceived,” I say decidedly.

“Of course, Mother. You wouldn’t! That’s how the best deceptions work!” He laughs at his own joke. Then, maybe seeing my good humor’s been depleted with his games, he leans in and says, “Deception does not have to be as sinister as what you imagine. Consider this: Perhaps you are deceived in that you think Ochus is the one hunting you . . . when in fact, someone else is pulling his strings.”

With that, Caasy stands up. His curls bounce like copper coils, and his chin dimples. “We’ll be doing our slingshot soon, and I wouldn’t dare miss it. Every close flyby of Helios gives me a sensory charge.”

His words remind me of the course Hysan has charted to take us from Gemini, the Third House, to distant Libra, the Seventh. Since we’re in a hurry, we’ll do a slingshot around our galactic sun and use its gravity to boost our speed. Hysan says we’ll cut as close as possible without setting ourselves on fire. It’s unnerving—but thrilling. I can’t wait to see my first close-up view of Helios.

I stay seated a while, thinking about what Caasy said. I don’t like the idea of someone more powerful than Ophiuchus out there. Maybe that’s not the deception.

Even though I have a ton to prepare for, I feel homesick. Stepping on foreign soil made me think of the last time I set foot on Cancer. And since I can’t concentrate on anything else, I search for the thing on this ship that brings me closest to home.

Equinox
is small, so I don’t have far to go. “Mathias?” I knock on his round metal door. “Can we talk?”

When he opens it, he’s shirtless and holding a stretch band. Droplets of sweat cling to his hair, and his chest is swelling in and out like he’s been exerting himself. His body is so smooth and sculpted that soon the homesickness is replaced with fantasies of what his skin would feel like if I touched it.

When he pulls on his blue Cancrian tunic, I look up.

“I can loan you the band if you want some exercise,” he offers.

“Thanks, maybe later.” The way he eyes my Libran uniform makes me wish I hadn’t put it on.

I edge a little farther into his cabin, which is as narrow and cramped as mine. It’s chrome green, and there’s a sleeping cocoon, a few storage bins, and a desk that folds down on hinges. Unlike my cabin, though, his is neat and tidy, without a single item strewn on the floor. “Caasy just told me what he saw in the stars. He says I’m being deceived somehow. He thinks someone else is pulling Ochus’s strings.”

“Do you believe him?” Mathias stows the stretch band.

“I don’t know. I don’t think he was lying when he said it.”

“Well, I don’t trust him.” He turns around and faces me. “Or Hysan either. Although I admit we wouldn’t be alive without the Libran’s ship.”

“Yeah, this place is starting to feel like a safe harbor.” I rest my side against the wall. “I just wish I knew how the Psy shield works. Hysan won’t spill.”

Mathias takes a small device from his belt and waves it in a broad sweeping pattern, as if brushing away cobwebs. When he continues this strange behavior, I ask, “What are you doing?”

“Checking for eyes and ears.”

“You mean Hysan may be eavesdropping?” I glance around for cameras, but of course they would be concealed. “Well, as Cancrians we have nothing to hide. Right?”

“Yes. We’re not sneaks.” Mathias announces this to the walls, as if the cabin itself is listening, and I have to smile. In spite of our disagreements, his Cancrian nature comforts me and reminds me of our people back home.

We head to the nose and find both Hysan and Caasy planted at the front tip, gazing at Helios. Our sun’s light flickers through the glass, setting every surface aglow. At this distance, it nearly fills our view, and although the glass has automatically polarized and darkened to protect our eyes, the light is intense. The surface boils like liquid fire in hues of violet, crimson, brass, and gold, with bursts of white so extreme, my eyes sting. Around its horizon, a scarlet corona blazes like a holy crown, and here and there, superheated jets of gas spew outward in luminous blossoming fountains.

“Hail mighty Helios, womb of heaven.” Mathias murmurs the Zodai chant, and we all join in. “Star maker, heat giver, doorway from death to light. Preserve our Houses now and in the ages to come.”

I study the three enraptured faces around me. It’s easy to see why Helios stands at the center of all our sacred texts. The Libran Seddas. The Gemini Book of Changes. Of course our own Holy Canon. Even the famous eight-volume Covenant of Scorpio, the most secular and scientifically advanced House in the Zodiac, speaks of Almighty Helios. Many people believe our galactic sun holds the gateway to paradise, and seeing it, I understand why.

Youngest looking, but oldest by far, Caasy watches Helios with reverent adoration, like one gazing at a great beauty from afar, knowing he can never hold her.

An hour passes while we gather in the glass nose. None of us seems willing to move while the sun’s still in view. Only when our transit’s complete and
Equinox
hurtles away toward Libra do I settle back into my skin. The sun’s behind us now, visible only in the small square frame of
Equinox
’s rearview screen.

Hysan returns to the helm, and Caasy goes back to the galley for something to eat. He says the sight of Helios always gives him an appetite.

Mathias comes over to me. “Our course is locked in. We’ll be on Libra by morning.”

“I thought it was farther off,” I say, rubbing my neck.

“This bullet-ship has a photon pump, so we can travel at hyperspeed. And thanks to our loop around the sun, we’ll go even faster.” He peers over his shoulder at Hysan, then lowers his voice. “The Libran’s totally unreliable. He encrypted the ship’s controls and locked me out.”

“That’s a little paranoid.”

“He’s a spy. Spies don’t trust anyone.” Mathias’s jaw tightens. “Problem is, we need him to fly us to Virgo.”

“He promised he would. Let’s go talk to him.”

Hysan glances up from his screens as we approach, and his eyes glint with amusement. “You might as well know I overheard you.”

Mathias gives him a dark scowl. “Hidden microphones?”

Hysan’s centaur smile dimples his cheeks. “Truth is often overlooked for her simplicity. This cabin has excellent acoustics, and I have excellent hearing. I don’t need microphones.”

“Why did you encrypt the controls?” I ask.

“My lady, I assure you I meant nothing shady. This is my ship, and I’m captain here. I don’t like having to give your
Advisor
explanations.” The way he says Mathias’s title leaves little doubt he has a different word in mind.

Before Mathias can argue, I say, “But you’ll take us to Virgo, like you promised?”

Hysan steps around his screens and moves closer to me. Mathias tenses, but I see only humor in Hysan’s expression. He’s doing this to annoy Mathias. “Will you promise not to grill me about my Psy shield?”

I appreciate his directness, so I answer in the same spirit. “Not a chance.”

Hysan laughs, and his cheer is so sincere, it relaxes me. Again I feel my skin growing warmer in his presence, like he’s radiating his sunny disposition. I know it’s probably the smooth-talking Libran thing, but every time we have an interaction, I’m already looking forward to the next one.

Having skirted another battle between the guys, I head to the bathroom for an ultraviolet shower, and then I change back into the plush yellow tunic. I’m so exhausted that I sleep through dinner. When I awaken, everyone but Mathias is asleep. He’s out front, having discovered one of the ship’s secrets by accident.

It turns out
Equinox
’s
helm has a Libran teaching crown. I’ve heard of them but never seen one before—they’re only installed on ships outfitted for long-distance travel. Librans have them for the same reason they have a Scan embedded in their eyes: They believe when you’re leaving home, the most important item you can pack and take with you is your knowledge.

Mathias found out we can access it by speaking the word
tome
. At the sound of that trigger, the helm projects a horizontal ring of glittering lavender light. It’s about head high and two meters in diameter, so Mathias and I can both stand inside it.

We ask it a series of questions about Psynergy, but it mostly spews back things Mathias already taught me. None of its answers help us form any theories about how the Psy attack on the ship—or moons—was possible. So after a while, I try something else.

“Tome,” I say in the crown’s ring of light, “how does a Psy shield work?”

This is the first time the crown has no answer. Its ethereal voice responds, “Insufficient data.”

“Is Hysan Dax a spy?” asks Mathias.

“Insufficient data.”

“Is the Libran censoring what you tell us?” he growls.

“Insufficient data.”

I leave the circle of light. “Mathias, turn that thing off.”

“Let’s try another neutral question,” he says. “Tome, who are the most respected experts on the Psy?”

“Good one.” I go back in and watch the answer materialize inside the lavender ring. Tome displays a miniature 3-D image of a glowing spiral ladder shaped like a double helix. On its rungs stand seven shining figures. They look like tiny celestial beings on a stairway, and nametags glow over each of their heads.

On the top rung, of course, stands Empress Moira of Virgo, our Zodiac’s preeminent Psy master. The image standing on the rung just below her is far too familiar. It’s our own Mother Origene. I bite my lip. “This list is outdated.”

When Mathias sees Origene, he sucks air through his teeth. As a member of the Royal Guard, he probably knew her better than most. On an impulse, I reach out and stroke his arm. “You miss home as much as I do,” I say, halfway between question and statement.

He glances at the ladder of scholars again. “Alerting the other Houses is the honorable thing to do . . . but every hour we travel at hyperspeed, two hours pass on Cancer.”

“I hate not knowing what’s happening there.”

“Me too.” He unzips a pocket and takes out his antique Astralator. The mother-of-pearl glimmers softly in the ghostly light. After a moment, he presses it into my hand. “I want you to have this.”

I jump back like he’s offering me a weapon. “I couldn’t. Mathias, this was your sister’s. I could never take it from you.”

“It’s tradition for a Zodai mentor to give his student a gift when she’s mastered her studies.
Mastered
is an understatement when it comes to you. So much was thrust on your shoulders . . . and you’ve been incredible.” He takes my hand, his eyes bright in the lavender light. “The gift is traditionally an Ephemeris, but that will have to wait until we get home. For now, it would mean a lot if you’d accept this.”

“Mathias,” I whisper, an aching in my chest, “thank you, but it’s too much.”