Chapter 22

My Way

Maia felt a thrill of excitement as the vegetation thickened, the first signs of Lindrao’s outskirts drawing closer.

The Dame groaned as it navigated a sharp bend in the track, revealing a view that made Maia grin. Far below, the massive gorge that housed the Undercity spread out like a chasm.

She could make out the glimmer of life—the neon lights of stalls, the weaving lines of trams, and the faint movement of countless people. Above it all loomed the great red bridge, connecting the city above to the gorge below.

“We’re going to the Undercity, right?” She leaned forward in her seat, her grin widening.

“It’s the best place to start,” Matthias replied. “We can stash the Dame somewhere safe while we’re down there.”

“Good,” Maia said, her voice brimming with relief. “That’s the real Lindrao anyway up there.”

“Right local, aren’t you?” Matthias chuckled.

“Hey! I lived here for years unless you’ve forgotten,” she shot back.

“I know, I know. Remember though, We’ve got a job to do here. First, we’ll find somewhere secure for the Dame. Then we’ll see if any old friends are still around who might help us find a good Data Archivist that can break open this cache.”

“Right,” Maia replied, though her attention was already on the gorge.

This place had been her home once. She hadn’t been here in years, but the memories were clear as if she’d never left. She couldn’t wait to step back into it. Couldn’t wait to see Kyra.

“And we’re not staying long, Maia,” her father’s voice cut through her thoughts. “This is a stop, nothing more. Don’t get too comfortable.”

“Sure,” she replied with a shrug, though she didn’t believe him for a second. He was just as excited as she was to see Kyra. She was sure of it.

“So… are we going to the cantina?”

“I…” he faltered, “I don’t know. Kyra’s got her life… and we’ve got ours.”

But ours isn’t so great without her though. Maia thought. But she couldn’t voice that out loud to him. Instead, she leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms and looking out the window as the Undercity drew closer.

“Whatever you say, Ba,” she muttered.

“It’s not that simple, Maia,” Matthias sighed. “People change. Time changes things.”

“Does it?” she asked, her tone sharper than she intended. “Because last time we were here, you guys seemed… pretty close.”

“It’s not the same. Just… let it go, alright?”

She didn’t answer. There was no point in pushing him when he got like this, locked up tight like a vault. But inside, she fumed. It wasn’t fair. They’d been happy here, as close to a family as she’d ever had, and he’d thrown it all away.

***

They stopped to eat at an old crumbling diner on the outskirts of the Undercity. The sign above the place was so rusted that Maia couldn’t even make out the name of the place. Faded pictures outside advertised meals no one had eaten for decades, and some of those plants and animals had been wiped out in the fallout of the war. Inside, a few algae-lights buzzed in uneven light. Still, the smell of sizzling meat and baked roots wafted out through the door, drawing in weary travellers like moths to a flickering bulb.

Despite its crumbling appearance. Linda’s place was renowned amongst Undercity dwellers for having some of the best eats around.

Maia slid into a booth, her stomach growled audibly as she caught sight of the plates being served to a group nearby—piled high with seared slabs of meat, and crisp vegetables she hadn’t seen in years. Her mouth watered.

“I’m going to get one of those,” she grinned, “and maybe one of those too,” she pointed at another woman eating what looked like some kind of giant red crab. “Oh, and maybe some—”

“We’re not staying long,” Matthias grunted. “Quick meal and we’re moving on.”

“No surprises there,” she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes as she reached for the menu.

The waitress arrived, her apron frayed and patched but her smile warm. She took their order then disappeared back into the smoking kitchen.

The food arrived quickly, and it was as good as she remembered it. The meat was tender, the spices vibrant. Maia took her time savoring it, but Matthias was already halfway through his plate by the time she’d taken her second bite.

“We’ll start with Grent,” he said suddenly.

“Grent?” Maia frowned, setting her fork down. “Who’s Grent?”

“A contact of mine. He used to deal in Verdant salvage. If anyone knows who might be able to crack those archives, it’ll be him.”

“That’s… great, I guess. But does it have to be tonight? Can’t we just finish our meal and maybe enjoy being back here? I dunno, maybe visit someone we actually want to see? Like Kyra?”

“You’ve seen what’s after us,” Matthias’ voice dropped and he looked around. The place was loud and there was nobody sitting near them. “Verdant scravs are relentless. We can’t afford to waste time.”

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“I know,” she replied, she knew but she didn’t agree. “But we’ve been running for days, Ba. One night isn’t going to make a difference.”

“It might,” he said quietly. “You don’t understand what’s at stake here. Your Fatebond—”

“What about my Fatebond?” her head snapped up from her food.

“It…” he hesitated. “We can’t take the risk that it might be something you can’t achieve. We have to find a way to… to break the Fatebonds. In a way that doesn’t kill us.”

“You think that’s even possible?” It had always seemed like her father knew more about her Fatebond than he was letting on. This was just more fuel to the fire that he clearly didn’t trust that she could fulfil hers. And considering that his was to protect her, he would ultimately fail his, if she failed hers.

“It has to be,” he said firmly, his voice was low but she didn’t miss the hint of desperation. “The Archons made the Fatebonds. And they were far from perfect. They weren’t gods, as much as they claimed to be. They made them, so maybe… maybe there’s a way to unmake them.”

Maia studied him, her irritation simmering just beneath her skin. She didn’t know what annoyed her more—his continued crypticness or the fact that he seemed so sure she’d fail at her Fatebond. She wasn’t stupid. She knew that’s what this was about. He thought she couldn’t do it, whatever it was.

“You think that’s why Kallira was following us?” she asked, testing him. “Because of our Fatebonds?”

“I can’t think of any other reason.”

“Maybe she was—I dunno, trying to help us? She’s like us, Ba. She could help us figure this all out.”

“No,” he said sharply, “No she can’t. She’s a Verdant scrav. We can’t trust whatever her Fatebond might be.”

“But maybe she’s exactly what we’ve been looking for!” she countered. “The Verdant knew things about this world—about the Archons—that no one else did. That’s why we’re here to dig out information from their data caches. She knew a lot more about that Fatebond Anchor too. I bet she does know a way to break them.”

Matthias didn’t answer right away. He reached for his drink, taking a slow sip, his eyes never leaving hers. “If the Verdant knew how to break these,” he said finally. “Then every Verdant scrav out there would’ve broken their Fatebond the moment the Verdant abandoned this planet. We’re bound by these things. We’ll be the ones to find a way to break the chains…”

Maia looked away, her grip tightening on her fork. A part of her wanted to scream at him, to tell him she didn’t need saving. That she could handle her Fatebond—whatever it was—on her own. She was growing more accomplished with her abilities every day.

But another part of her, quieter and harder to ignore, wondered if he was right. He didn’t believe she could. He didn’t trust her.

***

Grent’s workshop was buried deep in the Undercity. He was exactly the kind of person Maia expected to find in a place like this—slightly hunched, with soot-streaked hands and goggles perched atop a mess of greying hair.

“Matthias!” Grent exclaimed as they entered, his voice booming in the tight space. “Well, I’ll be damned. Thought you’d fallen off the edge of the world! Haven’t seen you in… what, months now?”

“Years, actually,” Matthias corrected, Maia noticed that her father was smirking like Grent’s obliviousness was something he expected. They stepped further into the workshop, eyeing the rows of half-finished gadgets and rusting Verdant tech strewn across the tables.

“Years?” Grent chuckled, scratching at his beard. “Huh. That so? Guess time flies when you’re elbow-deep in circuit guts. What brings you back to Lindrao, then? Finally come to see reason and help me fix this place up?”

Matthias ignored the question, his focus narrowing on a shimmering piece of Verdant tech displayed prominently on a nearby shelf. Maia stepped closer to her father, watching his body tense as he stared at it.

“We’re looking for someone,” Matthias said. “A Data Archivist. Someone who can crack into Verdant archives.”

Grent froze mid-step, his expression shifting. “That’s a tall order,” he muttered, moving to clear some clutter from a nearby stool. “What’re you trying to get into Verdant archives for? Don’t tell me you’ve got your hands on one of their data caches.”

Matthias just shrugged in response, sitting down.

“You’d best be careful,” Grent snorted, shaking his head. “That kind of tech draws the wrong kind of attention. You’re not the first to come sniffing around for a Data Archivist lately. Seems like everyone with a death wish is digging into Verdant relics.”

Maia exchanged a glance with her father, her curiosity piqued. “Have people not always had an interest in Verdant tech?” she asked, it was what she and father had spent years earning a living by selling off salvage from Verdant ruins.

Grent shrugged, pulling a dusty bottle off a nearby shelf and pouring a dark liquid into a mismatched cup. “Yeah but a lot more people looking into more dangerous stuff now. Fatebond stuff. That’s been a hot topic lately—always was, I guess, really. But there’s been whispers about some pretty nasty folks around. Rumors about scravs, even. Not saying I believe ‘em, of course.”

Maia stiffened, her heart pounding. She risked a quick glance at Matthias, who was staring hard at Grent, his jaw tight. “What kind of rumors?” he pressed.

“Nothing concrete,” Grent said, waving it off. “Fatebonds grant powers, yeah? Well, by sounds of it, some dangerous people are looking to get their hands on those powers. Anyways, if I were you, I’d steer clear of any data caches that came from Verdant salvage. Those scravs have a way of sniffing out anyone poking around where they shouldn’t.”

“Good to know,” Matthias said, standing abruptly. “Do you know anyone or not?”

Grent sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “There’s a guy in Sector 14—name’s Arvil. Runs a scrap depot, but from what I hear the man’s sister—Selinas—is some kind of genius when comes to cracking into ‘em. If anyone can help you, it’s them.”

“Thanks,” Matthias said, already moving toward the door.

Maia lingered, her mind racing with questions. “Why do you know so much about Fatebonds?” she asked Grent, trying to keep her tone light.

Grent chuckled, sipping his drink. “You tinker with Verdant tech long enough, you start piecing things together. They were obsessed with the things—tying people to tasks, shaping their lives. Makes you wonder if the Archons were any better.”

“Yeah… makes you wonder.”

They gave their thanks Grent and left the workshop, Maia stayed a step behind her father, her thoughts swirling. When they were far enough away from Grent’s, she finally spoke.

“Why are you so interested in breaking Fatebonds?” she asked, keeping her tone as neutral as she could.

Matthias didn’t answer immediately. His eyes scanned their surroundings, his body tense as though he expected an ambush. “You know why,” he said eventually. “And I’m not going to let them destroy us.”

“Destroy us?” she replied. “Or just me?”

He stopped, turning to face her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You keep talking like I’m some ticking time bomb,” she snapped, her voice rising. “Like I’m sure to fail my Fatebond. You’re so obsessed with breaking these things, but have you ever considered that maybe I can actually handle it?”

“You don’t even know what it is yet Maia. And it could come any day now. You’re almost an adult now. I don’t know why when children were Fatebonds, their Fatebonds didn’t become clear until they reached adulthood. I don’t know… maybe the Archons were actually decent once upon a time, and created rules so that children couldn’t be made into soldiers. But this isn’t just about you, Maia. It’s about both of us. And if you think for a second that I’m going to let Fatebonds decide our lives then…” he trailed off, frustrated.

She clenched her fists, biting back a retort. “Fine. Whatever.”

“Good,” he said, turning back toward the Dame.

Maia followed in silence, her frustration simmering. If he wasn’t going to give her answers, she’d just have to find them on her own.