Cosmosis

Detonation

Up until relatively recently, my mornings had been the most variable part of my routine. Not because I’d actually done anything different when I woke up, but because the timing fluctuated.

Daytime was fleeting on Yawhere, at least it was at this point, at this time of year. The planet just spun faster than Earth. Planetary clocks measured fourteen and change hours for one complete rotation. Casti hours, at least, which were longer than human hours, by almost forty percent, going by the clock in my head. But I still hadn’t gotten the chance to compare my psionic clock to any kind of Earth time measurement.

Discrepancies between the Casti time system, the planet, and my own biological clock meant that I almost never woke up the same time each day. I was trying my hardest to keep a regular sleeping schedule, and in terms of going to sleep, it was easy. Waking up was different.

Most days, I usually woke up an hour before dawn or about thirty minutes after it.

Today was the former, although…now I was forgetting if it was a Casti hour or human hour.

One of the hardest things I’d needed to do when I first settled into life at Demon’s Pit was refusing to let myself sleep in. It was too tempting, and if I did it once then I’d do it again and again. Forcing myself to use energy I didn’t quite feel, I jumped out of bed and pulled on some clothes. Months ago, a toothbrush had felt like an odd ask, but apparently oral hygiene was one of those things that all alien species shared.

I’d been materializing my own toothpaste and soap until recently, when Nai had nearly thrown another conniption. She’d forced me to sit down with Dyn and make sure I knew exactly what kind of chemical properties the paste I made might have.

On the one hand, it was surprising she was that reactive to my safety, but on the other, it was hard to forget she’d been the one to be so reticent to teach me more about Adept creations in the first place.

One hour, every two weeks? Come on, that was just pathetic. Even Nemuleki, who didn’t have the responsibilities of teaching me Starspeak for hours a day had more time to spare than just one stupid hour every other week.

Before I left my closet-quarters, I made sure to grab a ration block and scarf it down before almost forgetting my water bottle.

Running was part of my ritual that had improved most once I’d gotten good clothes. Gone were my days of jogging and feeling the cold wind through the holes in my attire. In addition to the pants and button-ups, Byr had included long underwear and sleeved undershirts that were invaluable in keeping me warm. Even with winter ending soon, our region apparently never got too warm.

Demon’s Pit, I’d learned, was invisibly separated into the Naxoi operated garrison, and the locally operated reactor. The largest building on base housed the reactor and a whole bunch of supporting machines, safety systems, and other nonsense. Attached to that building was the garrison structure, built by the Naxoi.

My running route stayed in the shadow of the garrison and the smaller surrounding structures, but it was early enough in the morning, I could have jogged around the whole reactor complex and only the sentries with night-vision goggles would have seen me.

This early in the morning, I had mostly free reign. In the first few weeks, before my closet dormitory had been cleared out, there had always been Tasser and at least one other soldier shadowing me, just making sure I wasn’t dangerous or in danger. They’d only let me run in a loop the size of a volleyball court.

Months had passed though, and Ase Serral and his support staff had relaxed a lot more to my presence. There was a silent agreement that I wouldn’t make a scene and they wouldn’t push their rules.

Still, only Tasser knew that some mornings I liked to climb one of the garrison buildings and sit on the roof while the sun rose over the ocean.

I elected against it today; it was just too foggy. But the planet was still beautiful.

We’d gotten only an inch of snow last night, but it was enough to dust everything in sight. It was nice to look at the snowy buildings that made up the borough. South of us was flatland and more sea, but West and North of us, buildings and neighborhoods butted right up to the fence line surrounding the base.

It seemed fitting to call it a time of small lights. There were still a few stars visible through the gaps in the clouds, a few lamps and windows shown from the rest of the borough in the distance.

I gave a huff, pushing some extra air out through my mask, making a nice cloud of breathe in front of me. Moving enough to get my blood flowing helped me wake up. I was feeling good.

One of the unexpected parts of the planet’s lowered gravity was that it completely skewed my sense of longer distances. After ten minutes, I had no idea if I’d gone half a mile or three. I was lighter, so I felt like I could move further, but at the same time, taking those longer steps made me feel like I was going too far, so I tried to take smaller, more frequent ones. Anything more than a few dozen steps quickly lost all meaning.

The end result was that I had to judge how long to run strictly on how tired it made me, because I wanted to do more than just run this morning. Cardio was good, but this planet’s gravity also threatened to weaken my muscles if I let it.

For all the strange parallels to Earth on this planet, the Casti physique was one that continued to catch me off guard. Tasser and Dyn had deduced that I came from a higher gravity world than them fairly quickly.

But apparently Earth’s gravity still fell short of what the Vorak were used to, though probably not by much. The heavier the gravity, the stronger a species would need to be in order to thrive.

On worlds with less gravity, species didn’t need to be capable of quite the same feats of brawn because they and things in their environment didn’t weigh quite so much. Lighter gravity also allowed organisms to be much larger too. Although since I was an inch or two taller than almost every Casti I’d met, I was living proof that size didn’t always correlate.

The modern consequence of that for the Casti was a slightly ‘pudgy’ appearance. They had thick but smooth limbs, fingers, and torsos. But despite looking overweight to my human eyes, they were surprisingly light, but even more surprisingly strong. Tasser wasn’t any weaker than me, and he claimed he was not in good condition. To that end, Casti soldiers on base lifted weights extensively.

It was, I learned, a matter of baseline.

On average, a Vorak would be stronger than a Casti or Farnata. It was just their biology. From the first one I’d laid eyes on; I’d thought to compare them to gorillas almost as much as otters. Like a great ape stuffed into the shape of an otter.

But that didn’t mean Casti couldn’t overpower Vorak. They might have come from a world with lighter gravity, but not so much lighter that there couldn’t be a contest.

At Tasser’s and my best guess, the Vorak came from a 1.1g planet, while the Casti came from somewhere about .8g, or just shy of it.

So when I’d first communicated to Tasser that I’d wanted a way to exercise, it had been simple. All he’d had to do was show me to one of the vehicle garages that doubled for a gym.

My mom had told me how soldiers deployed overseas needed to get creative with workout schemes, lifting sandbags, or ammo boxes, using chains for weight. The Casti were no different.

Nor, as I discovered today, were Farnata.

When I walked into the garage, Nai was there curling what looked like a small engine block with one arm. If Casti limbs were pudgy compared to human ones, then the Farnata looked slender. The first instinct to run through my head was that either her arm or wrist was a moment away from snapping.

I started to say something, but Nai’s motion was smooth and steady, like it wasn’t even a great effort. I frowned. From what Tasser and I had talked about, based on gravity, Farnata should be slightly weaker on average than humans.

‘On average’ though…even as an Adept, I’d come to understand Nai was far from average, but it was surprising to learn she was so physically strong. Being able to outrun her on foot had been something that let me feel slightly less threatened by the blue-barbecuing alien.

I didn’t have the impression Dyn was that strong, or Byr for the few hours that I’d spent around her. Was this an Adept thing?

Nai noticed me and her grip faltered.

She did her best to betray nothing, but only completed another few reps before setting the weight down.

“What are you doing here?” she asked a little too evenly.

She eyed me suspiciously, not quite showing any surprise.

“I come here most mornings,” I said. “It’s usually the only time I get to myself.”

To punctuate my point, I grabbed a pair of metal rods that I’d used as dumbbells in the past. Without completely intending to, I put more confidence into my routine. I felt good this morning and I wasn’t going to let Nai make me feel uncomfortable doing something I did so regularly.

I was usually the one to avoid Nai rather than the other way around. But this morning I didn’t want to fold so easily. I might have been borrowing the Naxoi’s stuff to exercise, but I didn’t like the idea of her being able to bully me away from here.

I had just as much right to be here as her.

My confidence wore thin the place it always did though, after only a few minutes my left arm weakened long before my right.

I grit my teeth and toughed it out, but shooting pain ran up my forearm which only served to exacerbate the ache in my left shoulder.

Of all the countless bruises and scrapes I’d recovered from when I first came to this planet, I’d yet to recover from the two worst wounds I’d taken.

The stab wound Stalker had put into my shoulder had healed very well, without a visible mark. And even though I could still feel the exact spot the knife had gone into me, what lingered of that wound paled in comparison to the other.

‘Chief’. Later identified as ‘Sendin Marfek’ by Tasser and the Naxoi’s data on their enemies. She’d put a blade clean through my left arm, an inch above the wrist. I hadn’t been able to move that hand for three weeks.

That day still shook me for so many reasons, fear of losing function in a limb least among them.

But I was doing my best to move past it, regardless of what lingered.

That was easier said than done. My wrist gave out and the metal’s own weight tore it free of my grip. It clanged to the concrete floor loudly, drawing a cold glare from Nai.

“If you’re going to drop them—” she began.

“I got stabbed,” I huffed irritably, brandishing the forearm in question. “[Give me a fricking break.]”

“A gun exploded in my hand,” Nai said. “I manage just fine.”

“[Good Lord], it’s not a competition,” I spat. “What do I have to do for you to not take shots and just leave me alone while I exercise?”

“Odd choice of words considering your first reaction to me,” Nai said without missing a beat.

I’d tried to shoot her.

“I didn’t know who you were,” I protested, “or what Adepts were, I just knew you were an alien and that you gave off the same feeling the Vorak did. How much do you want me to apologize for that?”

“That’s not really the point, but once would have been a good start.”

I frowned, “I have apologized.”

Nai gave a roll in her shoulders that felt just like rolling her eyes, “Reading off Tasser’s script doesn’t count. He doesn’t like his friends fighting, but that doesn’t mean I have to like you.”

Good grief. I didn’t expect to be friends with every alien I met. The Vorak had taught me that lesson in blood. But just as quickly I’d learned not every alien needed to be my enemy, in no small part thanks to Nai herself. So why…

“…Do you have to be such a sour [bitch] to me?” I asked.

She scowled at my English, and I imagine she would have done worse if she’d known the word, “I’m going to assume that’s some kind of food?”

“It means you’re hostile and unreasonable, that you push every little interaction we have towards a fight. Yes, I tried to shoot you. It was a mistake, and I have apologized for it. But how long are you going to use that as an excuse? Every time I get within ten paces of the ‘Torabin’, I get to wonder if you’re going to incinerate me just for the peace of mind.”

“If you think I’m going to burn you for my own satisfaction, then you don’t know me at all. How many times do I need to spell out exactly what consequences would fall down on us if we let something happen to you? Only an idiot would think I would kill you for no reason. And we’ve done a great job so far, you haven’t died or even seen a Vorak in months, so the only question is ‘are you an idiot?’”

I raised my hand with mock pride, “For sure. Idiot, right here. I’m totally in the dark about just about everything anyone might need to know about me. You’re right, I don’t know you. Because every time I’ve tried, you’ve insulted my ignorance. It wouldn’t be so awful if you insulted my intelligence, accused me of being dumber than I really am. But the fact is, you like to cut me down for things outside my control, things I don’t, or can’t, know about in advance.”

My vocabulary list was extensive, but some of the words I was using might have only been approximately the same. I was having to guess on some of them. Still, if Nai didn’t understand what I said, it didn’t show.

“You’re the one depending on excuses. When you want reasons to do nothing,” Nai growled, “fear is a convenient thing to hide behind.”

I put down the other weight, having something in my hands only felt like a distraction. “That’s unconvincing, coming from you. Call it an excuse all you want, but you know even better than me that, if you decided to kill me? There’s nothing Ase Serral, anyone on this base, or even Tasser could do to stop you.”

Nai’s gaze narrowed on me, weighing what I’d said. For a moment, I saw that she might actually understand. Her eyes widened, but not like she’d realized something. She seemed surprised to find out it was true, and not in an encouraging way.

“You actually believe I would murder you,” she said, still sounding of disbelief, but she had not phrased it as a question. It had been a statement, confirmation. “In sound thought, you think I would kill you.”

“Under the right circumstances? I’m shocked you think you wouldn’t,” I said. Nai seemed like she was more self-assured than that.

“Why would you do nothing then!” She exploded. “If you actually believe I might murder you, then why wouldn’t you do something?”

“Like what?” I snorted, “Go over your head? No one could stop you if you set your mind to it. I’m not about to try to kill you, even if I thought I stood a chance, I’ve…” I trailed off.

At even the discussion of me killing her, Nai’s hackles went right back up. “You what?”

“I…I’ve had the choice of killing someone in self-defense before, and even if I think it’s ‘right’, I don’t have the stomach for it. I thought I did, but I don’t think it’s that simple anymore.”

“I truly don’t understand you then. You would rather die than kill to survive?” Nai said. It was jarring to hear her ask genuine questions still using such a scathing tone. Even now…did she even realize how insulting she sounded?

“No. Maybe? I don’t know,” I huffed. “[Chief], that Vorak Adept with the orange armor, I didn’t pull the trigger, but I got her killed. Even if she was trying to kill me…I don’t want to be someone who kills someone, anyone, and isn’t affected by it at all.”

Still bewildered, Nai asked, “Why would that be important?”

“Because I’m certain that’s the kind of person who would abduct a couple dozen people and strand them a trillion miles from home,” I spoke quietly. “And I don’t want to be a monster like that.”

“…You are weak,” Nai said slowly. Less aggressively now, but no less harsh, “You avoid hardship, even if it might get you what you say you want. That is what I can’t stand about you. It’s the reason I can still doubt that you are whom you claim to be.”

I laughed, “You really think I’m a Vorak spy?”

“…No,” she admitted. “But I’ve been wrong before, and you keep giving me reasons to think I am. You do not act like someone torn from their home. It’s like you cannot decide if you need to consume learning like you’re starving, or if you are simply content to let others solve your crisis for you.”

“Crisis? You mean my abduction?” I asked.

“There’s only one other officer on this base besides the Ase that ranks higher than me, so I know you haven’t talked to anyone significant about what you intend to do beyond the summary reports for the Ase. If you really were stolen from your home, when do you intend to act like it? Like you would fight, bleed, and kill to make it back to your home? Shout, fight, prove there’s steel in you!” She was furious.

“What does that even mean? Should I fight you? Should I go find some Vorak and see how many of them stab me?” I said. Even as the words left my mouth, they felt like a mistake. My dad told me never argue with someone too angry to listen to themselves.

Trouble was, I was feeling more than a little angry too.

“Lives were lost because we stumbled onto you! We paid in blood for your ignorance, and you treat where you stand like… a game, like diversion!” she said.

“I’ve spent nearly every waking moment I could stomach for five months learning how to speak again, don’t pretend I haven’t taken things seriously. I ‘paid in blood’ too, even before I met you. This is personal; what is it about me that makes you so angry?”

“Your every action,” Nai said, voice like ice, “you don’t consider the future of even four minutes, not your own and much less for anyone else. You’re proudly naïve. Immature. You act like a child.”

There it was. My face froze, perfectly torn between a frown and grin, “I am a child, Nai!”

For the first time in the conversation, Nai looked taken aback.

“I’m sixteen…” I trailed off, Earth years by number wouldn’t mean anything. “…One hundred, forty…five thousand hours old.”

“So you are not an adult,” Nai said, “But even by a Vorak lifespan, you would still be old enough to fight. You would be old enough to be responsible for yourself.”

“I won’t claim that I’ve made perfect decisions here,” I said, “But I’m tired of you treating me like I should be expected to.”

“Perfection is impossible,” Nai said. At least we agreed on something, “But you fail even adequacy. You are determined to be lax.”

“Is that so? Don’t forget, you don’t know me either,” I said. “You said it yourself, I’m weak, I don’t deny it. But lax? I don’t have the option of taking a quick painful path. What’s the point in returning home if only my corpse makes it? How could I possibly make it home with just one painful sacrifice? I don’t have the luxury of any journey but the long and difficult one. You think I’m not taking things seriously, that I’m not taking a large enough view? No, it’s you who’s not thinking ahead. But since you want to focus on the details I’m ignoring, how about a simple one? Where is my planet? ”

She angrily said nothing, and I nodded satisfied. “That’s right. It’s that kind of thing I can’t afford to confront. Not yet. Other things come first, like staying sane, stable, and learning the language.”

Nai was seething. She glared at me, and for the first time her angry eyes didn’t scare me.

“…Regardless of how you think you are cognizant, your attitude, your demeanor, is flippant at best. At worst? Deception.”

“I can’t control what people decide to think of me, even less if they’re ignorant of who I am,” I said.

“Keep up the way you are, and I won’t be the only one thinking you don’t want to make it back to your homeworld.” Nai said, and it hurt more than anything else she’d spoken this morning.

I scowled, determined not to give her a real reaction. But determination wasn’t enough to stop a nasty feeling from settling in my stomach, and I muttered, not quietly enough to go unheard, “Easy for you to say; you get to know where your homeworld is.”

There was a heartbeat of silence before I felt pain well up in the side of my head and shoulder. My eyes couldn’t follow what happened. It was too fast. The room tumbled around itself, and I felt my body crash through a wall, slamming into the floor of the adjoining building’s hall.

“[Wha…]” I mumbled, but my face felt numb. Though not numb enough to miss the feeling of warm wet slime on my face. I wiped with my hand and my palm came away bloody.

My feet slipped out from beneath me when I tried to get up.

I caught a glimpse of Nai through the gaping hole in the wall I’d just flown through, her face flickering between two expressions, like she was horrified at what she’d just done or that she was too furious to care.