Unravelling warp. Thoughts are quick things, are they not? Shay thought how, there’s who-knows-how-many of these posts across Imirka, and Panzjrah happened himself by this one? Of course. Off course. None of the usual proper-planning ahead and practicing she so prefers; this performance had a hole too many.

∞

She swung herself around and in front to keep Serib safe. The laser round cut into Shay’s back and shoulder. They hugged each other tightly and fell to the ground. Serib was fussing and struggling to start fighting, but Shay was waiting. Not a moment after the guards were quietly gurgling, then loudly fumbling all over the candle-lit table unable yet to die, Woid having garrotted right-through both their throats, yet there he was against the wall leaning calm, unarmed and spotless. Blood shone bluer in moonlight. One of the dying guards floundered across the desk and the candles’ light vanished under them.

“I’ve got the location.” Woid shrugged.

“Let’s get-split.” Shay swayed with weird-speech. “You’re alright?”

“You’re asking me?” Serib replied as they ran.

Her feet felt stronger under her than before and she looked up to see the brew of storming clouds, the drift of other townships floating in nightly light, bright with the lamps of patrolling searchships.

∞

“Head for shuttle eight. How bad is it?” Woid shouted from one street corner, being answered by Shay on the next:

“We’ll keep moving.”

With some on-the-go adjustments and discarding the goggles, Shay looked now as any-folk would, albeit with a wound. She wrapped her Panzjrah-jacket or similar over her shoulders and looked almost fashionable, concealing her being shot simultaneously. Her posture was closer to her own, though crooked and hurt. After some-many paces through the darker yet still brimming streets of Imirka, Serib broke the momentum trying to thank Shay, our trio bundling into a space between two homely buildings. Weeds hid with them from the moon as they listened out for shouting voices.

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

∞

The girl was clinging to Shay’s leg as Woid tried to unpuzzle something, with a hushed voice:

“The station should be here? I’ve lived here long enough to know. It is here… what? So where is it?”

The Timelessness in a ripple, seemed to have finally and fully hit Woid. Time the dimension upon which all others base themselves, and so, and so on. The station had always been here, and yet it was not. If Time was strange why not Space as well. Shay kept Serib close and said to Woid:

“Now you know what it was like for me with those seeds! I knew I’d stolen them.”

Woid was stunned.

“Let me think.” Shay grit her fake prop-teeth, feeling the sharp dig of her wound. “The guard said she couldn’t count any higher than eight. Can you?”

Woid shook his head after giving it a go.

“No? I’m stuck on that as well. And Eight is the shuttle we’re after… it feels designed. A trap?”

Woid nodded.

“It’s a loop that overlaps.” Serib touch-drew an ‘eight’ on the palm of Shay’s hand.

In the centre where the loop overlaps itself, Serib tapped with her finger: “Lay’d Payn.”

∞

Shay was trying to fit the pieces together as Serib explained:

“I’m sorry, she told me I’d know when; like riddles. ‘After the cobbles, turn back’ she said. I think it’s after, now, so we should go back.”

“Go back to the bloody scene?” Woid scoffed.

"There were cobbles at the outpost!" Serib objected.

"That's good, then. At least." Woid smiled his eyes into a roll.

Shay looked down and the ground there was more modern and metallic than the cobbled Dorn outpost. From one age to another page. The little shaman spoke up now from her whispers:

“She said if I get caught, the riddles I know won’t help the souls looking for her, looking for you, looking for me. But they might help us along.”

"Sounds a bit too good to me." Woid shifted his lean.

Serib was rushing Shay and Woid now as she ran off, back in the same direction they had come.

“Come on!”