Page 30 of Ava Stargazer (Planet Xai #2)
Ava took the dreaded heat suit from Vox’s hands, which she then put on with disdain. The oxygen mask dangled over it on her neck, beside the biologics, just in case it was needed.
“I grew up here, Vox, my body can handle this,” she said. But her nerves were wired, and focusing on the mundane tasks like this did help keep her calm.
“Humor me,” he said intensely as he wrapped the strap they had spent time preparing earlier around her chest, the playful moments from when she first tried it on, in her alcove, far from her mind.
Vox drew out a sketch of the facility before they left the cargo hall, the layout lifted from the Yar’s mind. He showed her where it started at the entrance they were going to, and how it was sectioned off, with ten sections in total.
Each area had its own separate, distinct operation. It was designed like this, separate, to keep any possible diseases away from each other. There was a central hub in the middle that allowed all the sections to be accessed, farther in. She looked at it, biting her lip. I remember . I think.
They were brought up sometimes to the main receiving room for inspections, and if there was an interested buyer important enough to visit in person, through those halls. She never went back down into any of the other sections, however, just to the main hall and hers. Why her memory retained that information she didn’t know, but she knew that was right. Ava looked and then said softly, pointing with her index finger, “There. The lower right-hand part. That is the section we were in.”
Vox looked down at her. “You are certain?”
“Yes.” Ava felt in her gut that was correct. She moved away from the sketch, which Vox folded and put in his jumpsuit, then stood at the threshold of the cargo bay, looking anxiously at the cold world outside. Here we go .
Part of her wanted to stay in the ship, and that avoidant part warred with the rest of her as she stood there. She was ready to confront this. Ready to see and move on. Her resolve firmed. I’ll regret not going if I don’t do it now. I’ll never get another chance to see. Now that I know more and can understand more.
Rhutg strode out, Zeed following, both flanking her as she and Vox walked ahead. Tiral stayed behind with Fijjak and Pyra on the ship as backup.
The broken Yar was in front, leading the way.
She followed the Yar who walked just ahead of Vox, in that hated robe she remembered. The Yar hurt us . The thought broke through as she stared at the multi-limbed creature. At its eyes, peppered all over its head. A sour taste filled her mouth as she walked behind it. The dark part of her, the same part that secretly felt no guilt when the Vorbax took over the ship, watched and felt no remorse that this one was shattered. Ava averted her eyes from the Yar.
It's already not the same. In her memories, the Yar loomed over her. Now, standing there broken, it was only a bit taller than she was. I’m taller now as well though, so I’m probably the one that changed. And the angle was different too. She only remembered looking up at them. Now she could see the extra antennas on the top of its skull, in between the thatch of hair. Short and stubby. Nothing like Ebel’s or Fijjak’s.
In her scattered memories, the Yar were indifferent more than anything else ... but the isolation and the fear that went with that was enough. She’d only needed their physical reminders a few times, the batons at their sides delivering a painful jolt that brought her to her knees. Ava remembered her and her sisters fearing them, and the batons they carried that she saw them use on others. Many others.
And she remembered knowing, even then, that anything in a position of absolute power over someone else was to be feared. Her mother never had any sons, only daughters. The Human males that were bred were more aggressive than Ava and the other females. They got hit the most. They acted up more, especially after they were given the growth shots. Individuals were usually kept separated into family pods but did spend time together if there was a communal lesson. At those times, Ava observed that if they didn’t listen, some Humans were taken away and never returned. She balled her fists at her side, determined. I was so scared and young back then. I need to see what it really was so that I can understand better.
Ava took a deep breath, remembering her talk with Joy. About being a survivor. I will do this . Her eyes fixed on the horizon as they walked, and she focused on Vox’s back instead of the Yar’s. The cold air helped keep her present and aware as she leaned into it.
Vox had them sit by a rock outcropping just out of direct view of the facility. He spoke briskly over the cold. “The AI and offensive capabilities are online. They have heat and bio sensors. I am close enough now to send the Yar in to disable.”
Ava nodded, her teeth chattering. Her breath made a fog in front of her, something she would be more interested in if it wasn’t happening with the facility looming just ahead.
“Come here.” Vox reached over and pulled her close, warming her in his embrace.
She shook in his arms, looking down and away from the facility for a moment. “You were right on the heat suit.”
Vox just hugged her closer in response, his gaze fixed far away. The wind still whipped around her, the sun distant. She shook in his arms, thinking idly that she hoped Xai didn’t get as cold as this. At least there will be no wind inside.
Both Rhutg and Zeed looked away and over the frosted wasteland while Vox kept his head low, focused on controlling the Yar as it went in the facility.
Vox stood a few minutes later, a faraway look in his eyes. “It did what it could. We should be able to move now without any issue. The AI system is rebooting, but it will not last long, so let’s hurry.”
They walked across the chilled wasteland and Ava couldn’t imagine how much colder she would be without the heat suit. Vox led them to the side of the facility. She scanned the metal wall. What are we even looking for? It was answered a second later when Vox indicated a small opening. It was something they would never have noticed without the knowledge from the Yar.
Unfortunately, there was a camera, not even attempting to be discreet. She looked up at it. The camera was angled to watch the hidden service entrance. Hopefully all of that can be erased .
Vox ducked inside and Ava followed hesitantly, her foot hovering at the entrance as she took her first step back into her birthplace.
There was no gunfire.
No resistance.
Nothing.
Her feet just stepped through the service entrance onto a worn metal loading area, scrape lines gouged in it from many cycles of packages being wheeled in and out.
The facility had an air of despondency that clung to it, adding to the feeling of neglect the rusted bolts and chipped paint halls gave as they walked along a maintenance shaft. The air was breathable inside the facility, if not a bit too high in nitrogen to breathe comfortably. It smells . . . Like decay. Gravity also was lighter here, and Ava thought there might be magnetic stabilizers applied throughout to keep it consistent.
She scuffed her foot on the floor as she walked in, testing the difference in her step on this planet. It was a slight bigger bounce here than on either the ship or Xai. Ava had a gut reaction, feeling the gravity difference as an unsettling familiarity. Ava looked down and concentrated on her feet, mentally checking out for a moment as she just listened to her footsteps and focused on putting one in front of the other on the metal floor. She exaggerated her booted steps so they echoed in the hall, along with the steps of Vox, Zeed, and Rhutg. She already missed being barefoot.
They made halting progress, all three of the males leading the way, each lit up to take note of everything in the facility. When they reached the central section, it splintered off into many segments. Ava only vaguely remembered the area, but she did know the way still. Her com on her arm kept track of their direction, helping her.
We were always in the westmost region. She pointed down a section that led lower, where the flickering lighting was dimmer. “That direction. I can’t say why, but...”
She frowned as she put her hand on the walkway, feeling the same sort of anxiety the unpainted Phor halls had given her not so long ago. Her hands touched a bit of rust piled up. These walls are not well taken care of, though.
Rhutg eyed the passages. “I feel minds down here still. More guards. How long until the security measures come back online?”
Vox cleared his throat as he tilted his head. “Not long. But the inside appears to only have video feeds active.” He shook his head. “This mind I have claimed, other than destroying the cameras completely, he does not know how to turn the feeds off, or how to obscure them.”
Rhutg nodded. “Give him to me. I will walk to where they keep the feeds and recordings and do what I can. I want the video records of this place anyway, and the security data.”
She saw Zeed move forward in the direction Rhutg had indicated as still having life. “Since we are pressed for time and only have a minimal crew to worry about, there is little risk in splitting up to cover more ground. There is only this way in and out of the area. I want to see, not through their minds, but my own eyes, what is still happening here.” He breathed deep, looking around in sorrow. “I can almost feel the pain of those who lived here before.”
Rhutg nodded, spinning his com. “These communicators still work in here, but I think our telepathy might be strained if we go too far. Give it an eighth of a cycle? Check in if need be.”
Zeed nodded before walking ahead, glancing back once at Ava and Vox as he did so. “Message and I will come.”
Rhutg adjusted his buckles. “As will I.”
“Be careful.” Ava said as they walked off. Ava followed Vox down the tunnel she indicated, on edge, tugging on her hair as they went. Being here was doing all sorts of weird things to her mind. Just breathe. Just walk. Her mind kept giving her flashbacks almost, visions of when she walked the halls as a much smaller version of herself. She felt the texture of the memories on her mind. She knew these walls, deep inside. She was in a state of adrenaline now, pushing so hard she felt almost numb.
Ava watched, transfixed, as Vox continued walking ahead, scanning every corner before ushering her forward, his bluish head and amber eyes taking on an eerie hue in the yellow lighting. They stopped, in unison, at a doorway.
“Why did we stop?” she whispered, looking at the worn metal.
Vox shook his head and said to her internally, “There is another Yar in there. I’ve nudged it away. Let’s try to enter.”
The door was not locked, but it did creak, loud in the dark, quiet hallway, as they entered. Oh no . . . Ava felt as if it were a siren instead of just rusty hinges, and her stomach clenched in fear as Vox tried to open it fast now that he knew how loud going slow was.
It didn’t matter.
A rush of movement erupted next to her. Before Ava could register what was happening, Vox had surged forward, his footsteps a heavy pounding down the hall.
The Yar managed to screech, “Intruder!” before he was dangling in Vox’s hands. Ava saw terror in the Yar’s expression as she got closer.
“Oh.” Ava realized that one of the Yar had charged toward them, then eyed the baton at his side, remembering. When they used that ... it hurt. So much.
Ava looked to Vox, but it was not the Vox Ava knew as she saw him glare into the Yar’s face. Vox . . . A startled flash of fear went through her as she was reminded of the battle on the Phor ship, with his quick movements and angry eyes. A few seconds later, the life went out of the alien in front of them, a blank look replacing the terror. Just like the Tuxa husks.
Vox put him in front of Ava, breathing heavily. “I wanted to avoid this but ... he is broken. Ask this creature now and he will answer. Truthfully. I do not know which questions to ask, and his memory is too long to piece through without prompting.”
Ava gulped, pushing down her shock at all of this happening so fast, then looked hesitantly at the creature, not even wanting to make eye contact. “Do you remember me? Others that look like me?”
The Yar answered, his blank stare matching the blank tone in his reedy voice. “You, no. Others like you, yes.”
Ava walked up to him excitedly, tripping over her own feet in her haste. This one knows? “Where are all of them? The Humans?”
His face twisted to the side. “Gone. Sold long ago.”
“What do you remember about them?”
The Yar broke into a sadistic smile. “Their flesh was soft. I was sad to see them go.”
Vox winced, and Ava’s stomach churned at that and she looked away, hastily. No . . . She was never touched like that, since she was classed as a worker and needed to be unspoiled merchandise when sold, but she remembered others yelling to stop when the Yar entered their rooms. She looked at the baton, now on the floor. They used that instead on the ones meant to be sold later. Where it didn’t leave any marks. And Ava quickly learned to never misbehave. Ava looked away. I’m so grateful for Ebel.
Vox asked instead. “Do you have the data? Of what happened to them?”
The husk pointed down the hall. “Yes. It is in the monitoring room, in the older files. Archived.”
Vox cut in, breathing heavily. “Lead us there. In the way that will arouse the least suspicion. You creatures are evil, beyond being controlled. I don’t want more in my mind.”
The difference between her gentle Vox who had showed her the stars and angled his hands just the right way to touch her softly was sharply contrasted with the feral male before her willing to kill on her behalf. His eyes held no softness in them now. The two images were hard to merge as Ava half ran to keep up with him as he lengthened his stride.
“Ava?” Vox looked back at her. “Are you ... ?”
She looked up, away from the Yar, and forced her face to be neutral.
He took in her expression before turning ahead and walking a bit faster than before. “We will be done soon.”
Another Yar saw them and charged at Vox, pulling a thin baton out of his belt as he ran . The baton dropped as Vox broke him midstride. The two broken Yar walked behind them as odd shadows. Vox breathed heavily, and she noticed his arm starting to tremble.
She glanced up at his face, which showed determination. Is Vox hurting?
He looked down at her. “Focus, Ava.”
Ava was sure of him struggling when another one came, and Vox’s arm trembled as he turned that one as well. “Vox, maybe you should call for Rhutg.”
He shook his head. “I do not want to cause any further delay. I can sense no more guards in this area.” He balled his hands as he turned to the newly broken Yar, who looked at him in compliance.
Ava took him at his word as she tried to control her breathing. It was useless, as her limbs were trembling and her gut told her that they were getting close to something. Something important.
The Yar took them into a laboratory area, then down a hallway where the lights popped on and buzzed as they walked through. The air was damp and stale. Finally, they walked into a room off the main halls, and the Yar snapped on the lights.
Ava blinked at the medical-looking room, and her gut clenched. She dragged her finger over the dust that had settled on the counter by the entrance, her eye snagging on a singular exam chair in the middle. A monitor lay in the corner, lit up as the systems in the room came back online after the Yar flipped some switches to power it up.
Her head pounded. I’ve been here . In here and in that chair. She looked away to see that Vox had gotten the computer running in the time she had lost staring at the exam room chair.
He had his fingers over the feed. “On the main system, it all looks scrubbed. I’m trying to look locally in this area, to see if there’s some data that is still stored, even if the shared data has been wiped. Individual computers sometimes keep their own backups, offline. A legacy system in case the online ones get hacked. There are some here, I can find them, but I just need some more time.”
Backups. Ava looked back at the machinery, remembering her small hand being scanned on one of the components that was lit up now.
Anxiety made her body tremble. She wanted to walk away, but her eyes stayed trained on the fabric seat, which looked very similar to the one on Celestial . No wonder I always hated the medical exams there.
She forced herself to take a big step forward, toward the chair, her eyes snagging on the scanner next to it.
Would it have a backup?
Another step. One that was just never cleared?
She extended her hands, fingers hovering over the scanner, her memory feeding her the image of her hand being forced down many, many times before. Impulsively, she pressed her hand down and watched it scan her fingerprints again, feeling bile rise in her throat as the red light moved across her.
“Ava ... ?” Vox’s voice came as he turned around. He turned back a second later as the screen in front of him flashed.
And then it showed a photo of a younger Ava on the computer’s personal memory. Complete with the testing logs done on her in this room. Done to the young Ava the fingerprints belonged to.
She removed her hand fast, cradling it at her side. It still can recognize me. Shock and revulsion flooded her. The fact she was still in the system, anywhere, was a stark reminder that she really was born here. The past remembers me too. She said as much a second later. “It remembers me, Vox. It was all really real.”
Both she and Vox looked at the screen, dumbfounded. Then Vox cleared his throat. “Well ... there. Doing that took us right to where the Human files are located. I’ll be quick.” He took his com and connected it, using a wire from Fijjak to begin downloading the data.
Ava walked forward, looking at her sad, small brown eyes on the screen. I was just a child. And so sad. Then she looked lower, and her heart dropped. There was more information here than on the logs Ebel sent. So much more.
Next to her status it said she was sold to a private buyer, and the credit amount. She looked below her name and saw it had her family tree there. An identical amount was listed for her sister, Maebel, as another private buy. The other three that she remembered living with her at the time she was sold to Ebel, they all went to auction, with no information other than that they were sold and the credit amount—lower than what was given for her and Maebel. Their photos stared back at her in sharp relief. A shudder went through her seeing their faces. She could hardly remember how they looked but it now came back with startling clarity. Sophia, Emma, Ivy.
And her heart stopped at seeing the words next to a picture of her mother, who had the exact same color of eyes Ava had, and who looked eerily similar to the grown-up version of Ava.
“Subject: Laura . . . deceased.”