Evershore(Skyward #3.1)(9)



I hated that. I liked things that could be explained, preferably with proven pedagogical techniques, written reference materials, and lots of concrete examples. Cytonics was the opposite of that in every way, and I couldn’t help but feel that whatever force was handing these powers out had given them to the wrong person when they picked me.

Spensa seized her powers and made use of them. I was floundering around in the dark.

Beside me I could feel Alanik’s mind as she expanded her senses, reaching out into the void. I tried to do the same, at first looking for other minds, then listening for voices.

I wondered if I could find Spensa that way, the way she’d reached out to me from the nowhere. My mind was passing through it, and if she was in there it made sense that I would be able to find her again. I hoped every day, and even more since the explosion, that I’d hear from her. I wanted evidence she was all right, news that she was finding a way to return.

But more than anything, I desperately wanted to hear her voice again.

I expanded my mind, listening.

And then, just barely, I heard a snatch of something. A voice in the nothingness. —solar flares on the—avoid the area—

“I heard something!” I said. “Something about a solar flare.”

“It’s a weather report,” Alanik said. “I found that one. It’s a Superiority broadcast among their hyperjumping ships, warning them about hazards as they navigate the galaxy.”

Of course Alanik had already heard it. But that didn’t change the fact that I’d found it. I’d given up hope that I would be able to hyperjump, but Alanik said every cytonic should technically have access to all cytonic powers, even if various ones could be harder for some than for others.

Maybe I wasn’t completely hopeless. Maybe I could still master this, or at least gain some passable skills.

I continued listening. The sounds were tiny blips in a vast area, like a taynix hiding among all the caverns of Detritus. I found another broadcast giving what sounded like navigational coordinates, and a ship captain complaining about some of his subordinates to his commander. These were all hypercomm signals—they didn’t originate in the nowhere. But if Spensa was in here, there had to be a way to reach her. Spensa, I thought. Are you there? Can you hear me?

“Stop that,” Alanik said. “You’re drowning everything else out.”

My face flushed. Oh. Right. Of course Alanik could hear that. She was sitting right next to me, literally searching for cytonic signals.

I can hear all of that too, Alanik said. It would be wonderful if we could find Spensa in here and find a way to bring her home, but perhaps we could focus on one matter at a time?

“Of course,” I said. “Sorry.”

I sat and listened to the echoing void of the universe, trying not to radiate any thoughts that would overpower Alanik’s search. I still wished I could search for Spensa, instead of combing through mundane hypercomm communications on the off chance someone might be sending anti-Superiority messages through the nowhere. The more I thought about this, the more it seemed like the odds of finding such a communication at the precise moment it was being sent would be one in a million. And it was frustrating to hear the Superiority using this technology like it was basic radio—they had made hypercommunication part of their civilization, while the rest of us were only now clawing our way out of the dark ages.

Spensa would be angry about that. She probably was angry about it. I wished she were here; she’d be better at this than I was. Spensa would probably—

Spensa!

I opened my eyes, blinking rapidly. That hadn’t been Alanik’s voice, or the slugs’.

Had I imagined it? After everything that had happened, was I losing my mind?

I reached out again, focusing on the voice. —please respond.

And then it started again. Spensa, human of Detritus—

“I found something,” I said.

Where? Alanik asked. I could feel her mind reaching out for mine, following me into the nothingness.

—return them! Please—

“I hear it,” Alanik said. She focused on the words as they repeated again—it was an ongoing signal being broadcast on a loop. As we listened, the words became more and more clear.

Spensa, human of Detritus! the message said. This is the Swims Upstream! We have your humans and would like to return them! Please respond.

“They have our humans and would like to return them?” I said.

“That’s what they said.” Alanik frowned. “Do they mean Cobb and Gran-Gran?”

“Or other humans,” I said. “We don’t know if there are other prison planets like ours, or if we’re the only ones left.”

“If they found an entire planet of humans, would they really be contacting Spensa to return them?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t know what ‘Swims Upstream’ is. I don’t have any idea who’s trying to reach us.” The Superiority knew about Spensa, and that she was connected to our planet. They knew she’d disappeared, and they were no doubt trying to find her. This might be an attempt to bait her into the open, the way they did to my parents.

I supposed there was some comfort in knowing that if she was stuck in the nowhere, she couldn’t fall into that trap.

“I can pinpoint the coordinates,” Alanik said. “I could give them to the taynix in your hypercomm, so you could respond.”

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