{Enki}
Tameka took another drink from her new favorite source. Power surge be damned. She already waited around the apartment an hour before insisting on taking the long way to Primary Rem’s sanctum.
Where the hell was Sagan? The Seamswalker visited pain experiences the way an addict bumped coke. It made the redheaded Progeny uncomfortable enough that she planned an intervention for tomorrow.
“She’ll be fine,” Caedes insisted over the earpiece. “There’s nothing that warrior can’t escape from.”
He was right. And it calmed Tameka a little as she approached the final conduit. “Okay. Going in alone behind enemy lines. Wish me luck.”
“Be careful, Fury.”
Tameka grinned. “They should be careful of me. I got this.” Once again into the breach. The beautiful colonnade surrounding that waterfall of Cascading Light. Empty. Still, she whispered, “Where is Rem?”
“Taking a vacation from Primary duties.” His grin broke into his voice, warmer than gravel on a hot summer’s day.
She soaked it in for one second. But that wasn’t her right. His wasn’t the grin she wanted. “Moving forward.”
The conduit to the Pantheon looked no different from any other. Broad and sparking with energy. Through the blurry barrier, another colonnade waited.
Deep breath.
“Hey, the drive finished loading—”
Sip.
The Pantheon—columns, daises, squares, shelves and shelves of paper records—spanned as far as Tameka could see. A continent’s worth of archived texts and tomes. Billions of lives stored and collected. Their experiences laid bare on the page.
“Caedes, you won’t believe this—Caedes, are you there? Did I lose you?” Tameka pressed her earpiece and waited. When only silence returned, she made to leave. It wasn’t safe to proceed without backup.
A light flashed, and she fell back on her ass, startled. Thinking quickly, she scuttled behind a wall.
“Progeny designation Fury. Messaging sequence activated. Standby. Sovereign Ambassador.”
That was Eminent’s Wiw’s voice. With her heart in her throat, Tameka slowly turned and looked around the wall. A screen projected an image of the Eminent standing with his hands behind his back, as always. Or was always?
His warm voice pressed on, “I imagined you’d find your way here one day. You’re a bright girl with brilliant companions. I enjoy every one of our talks.”
Grief tugged at her heart. She’d enjoyed them as well.
“Times will get dangerous ahead. I don’t expect to survive. Should you see this message, follow this map to the location I’ve marked. There I hope you’ll find answers you and the Seamswalker seek. Beware of the Overseers. They fly above the stacks and monitor the facility.”
Yes, sir. The screen flickered off, and Tameka headed down the correct aisle. The screen switched back on, and for the love of Elden, she controlled her startled squeal.
“Tameka, protect Pax. He’s more special than you know. Goodbye, you brave young woman. I was honored to know you.” The projector powered down and disappeared.
Okay, there was definitely a tear now. The good die first.
An hour passed of following his directions and hiding in holes from the Overseers—large clunky machines in the sky. This was nothing like the more public-facing archives. Every book in this place was white and massive. Two feet tall, and three feet wide, with spines deeper than a D-ring binder. The bland tomes blended into the white shelving, white floors—everything pale and as much a labyrinth as Enki itself.
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Tameka found the location on a humongous stack designated Wiw. His Verse, so to speak. Pretty long. Another hour later, she scoured roughly the area he designated in the map she memorized with no luck.
“Damn it.” Let them catch her. At this point, she was lost in this mammoth library with no idea what to look for—
A flash of red caught Tameka’s eyes. She whirled. A set of books, tucked behind another bunch, sported red ribbons between the pages like bookmarks. A curl blew into her face on the breeze that smelled of dust and the lost. The same color red.
Fury slid to it and hid inside the shelf, forming a little nook. The hefty text laid flat, and she opened it to the first marked page.
2.6778.9890 | K
We celebrate today our first venture into life cultivation and the progression of reinstating our species. My heart is heavy at our victory. The cost was high. I and the other Eminents pray for peace with what remains of our enemy, the proud people who saved us at significant cost to themselves. The Aegis. A bright white light intervened like a miracle, granting us the advantage of seizing six continents and four oceans. Little by little, we gain more of Enki. They grow more desperate with each loss. I blame them not. Peace, please.
2.6779.6253 | L
The Exalted met with Primary Tumu today. The greatest leaders from both our sides. I hope for peace. They threaten our people with the Chorus. But they aren’t prepared to self-decimate. We hold the advantage with over half of Enki in our control. There is nowhere left for them to run, but we still have so much to learn from them. We should broker peace. Primary Rem is unsure.
2.6779.6255 | L
The Exalted’s three hundred and twenty-fourth son approached me with prospects of an accord. Shunned for the ability to control an undesirable phenomenon, this young man presented with great potential for the makings of the first ally to bridge our peoples since the beginning of the conflict. The boy harnessed the ability on his own, practicing in secret for fear of his father’s wrath. But without proper guidance, it grew outside of his control. After an accidental unleashing of the phenomenon—the white light—they punished him by removing his fingernails.
Ghastly. With much pity in my heart, I revered his story and passed it along to the Primaries. They see an advantage to his abilities and will communicate further on the matter.
2.6779.6278 | M
Three Two Four (324 hereon) parlayed with me again. For the transgression of meeting with me without the Exalted’s permission, the Aegis threatened to exile him from the void between Probabilities that they considered their home. Primary Remorse took pity on him and offered him asylum among our people. But Primary Tumu suspected him of a double-cross and consulted as much to me. It is an uncomfortable situation for me as an Eminent between two Primaries. So we petitioned to the oldest Primary for council.
He asked for time to think on the matter and will reconvene when he returns from the First. He cannot be swayed from it.
2.6779.6279 | M
Tumu is now the oldest Primary. Quet died on the First. A terrible death. I shudder to imagine it. The Primaries democratically settled the matter of an alliance with 324. All but Tumu voted in favor of it. At the next talk with the Exalted and his council, 324 will harness the phenomenon and test its usefulness. I pray Primary Tumu reaches peace before Primary Rem signals the young man.
2.6779.6281 | M
May the cosmos forgive us for reducing such a beautiful people to the same fate we suffer. Only sons. No daughters.
We must learn what unmade us. Perhaps we will find a way to save both our races.
The account stopped in this volume. Tameka retrieved the next one and opened to the bookmark.
2.6780.1355 | N
We search daily for the library of bones. With all but a few Aegis in hiding, we cannot operate most of the facilities on Enki to full capacity. Or correctly. Their archives spoke of a library—the Atheneum. It housed a DNA repository to reestablish the recycled lives of lost Aegis. Possibly, including the females removed at the hands of 324.
Once we captured the Exalted and the elders, we locked them in a prison of our making. And made 324 the Fifth’s first citizen for overstepping his place and condemning both our species to the same Hell—
Tameka cried out as someone touched her arm. Dropping the books, she made to crawl out of the shelf. The Tritan proved stronger. He hauled her up by the waist and ignored her powerful kicks and blows. With a deep breath, she calmed and opened the well inside her. Half-full from her regular sipping. Her body went stiff as she prepared to drain this motherfucker—
“Stop.”
“Tumu?” Tameka stopped struggling and faced him.
“At least you’re not naked.” He grinned.
She smiled.
The Tritan’s kind expression vanished. “Keep your faith in me a little while longer.”
“What—”
The world went black, and all the while Tameka wished Sagan kept her promises.