“Surprising how?” Serpint asks.
“You know,” I say. “The light. Coming from…” I wave my hand over my pussy area. “And everywhere else.”
“Why was that surprising?” ALCOR asks.
“Because that’s not… normal.”
“What is normal?” Serpint asks.
For sun’s sake. How did I get myself in this situation?
“Lyra?” ALCOR prods.
“You know. Regular light. Not… universe-imploding light.”
“Why do you think it’s happening?” the vile master asks.
And here’s the problem. I have a few thoughts about this that I didn’t mention to Serpint yet. I told him about the soulmate bond thing, but there’s more to it than that. So much more. The actual problem is… I don’t even know if that soulmate thing is true or just a myth. I only know the other part, the part I should not talk about, is true. One hundred percent true.
“Lyra?” Serpint asks. His voice is low and a little bit soft. Not persuasive or forceful. He’s confused, I can see that now. Not angry, not upset that I didn’t glow enough last night during sex. He’s not here to make himself feel better about his performance. We’re here because he wants to fix whatever he thinks is wrong with us.
Never mind that this us we’re all referring to is so new, I can barely wrap my head around it. He doesn’t care. He… loves me. He said that too. And I didn’t say it back. And now he’s worried that he let this bond take a hold of him and I’m going to somehow rip it apart.
“I’m not going to do that,” I say, looking him in the eyes.
“Do what?” ALCOR asks.
“You sure about that?” Serpint asks, ignoring ALCOR.
I nod. “I swear. It’s just…”
“What are you talking about?” the master asks.
“Just what, Lyra?” Serpint prods. “You can tell me. I’m on your side, OK? We’re a team now. Me, and you, and that worthless nanny bot. And Booty,” he adds. “Once she gets better. We’re your team now. So tell me. What’s really going on with you?”
“What are we talking about?” ALCOR asks.
I exhale. And it’s loud and long. “You’re going to hate me,” I say.
“I won’t,” he says, shaking his head.
“Can you two please explain what you’re talking about?” the master says.
“I promise, Lyra.” He sits forward on his couch until his hand can reach mine. And then he takes it. Holds it. “What’s going on?”
I sigh again. I have to make a choice here. Either let them all in on what’s happening with the Cygnian princesses, or… or what? Do I even have a choice at this point? The only other option I see involves stealing a ship, going back to Bull Station—alone—and getting Nyleena out myself. And even though I’m pretty sure I could steal a ship, there’s no way this stupid ALCOR wouldn’t catch me in the act. I’ve never seen such a powerful AI. He sees everything. He is literally the station god.
“OK,” I decide.
“OK.” Serpint nods, squeezing my hand for encouragement.
“We’re not what you think,” I say.
“Who?” ALCOR asks.
“No?” Serpint says.
“No,” I say, shaking my head.
“WHAT THE HELL ARE WE TALKING ABOUT?” ALCOR’s shout is so loud I jump in my chair.
“Chill, dude!” Serpint yells back. “She’s getting there!”
I hesitate, but Serpint squeezes my hand again. “Go on,” he says.
“We’re not just princesses,” I say.
“What’s that mean, Lyra?” the master asks.
“It means,” I snarl at him—why does he have to be here for this, anyway?—“it means… we’re something more than just… people.”
“I’m getting impatient,” ALCOR snaps.
“We’re weapons,” I say. “OK? That’s what we are. We’re weapons.”
Serpint squints his eyes. The cyborg master uncrosses his legs and leans forward, and even I can feel the confused look on ALCOR’s non-face.
“Weapons?” all three of them say at the same time.
“Yes,” I say, sitting up straighter and lifting my chin. “We’re weapons.” I wilt a little as I squeeze Serpint’s hand. “We don’t just implode the universe during sex, Serpint. We can literally implode the universe.”
They all blink at me in confusion. Even ALCOR. Because the lights in the room flicker a little.
“At the very least, we can annihilate planets and stations. Stations bigger than this one.”
“You explode?” Serpint says.
“Yes,” I say. “We explode.”
“And you die when you do this?” he asks.
I nod. Frown. “There is no other possible outcome when one explodes, is there?”
He lets go of my hand and leans back in his chair. Stares up at the ceiling.
“So we have,” ALCOR says, “in our possession, more than two dozen universe-annihilating BOMBS?”
“No,” I say. “Those girls out there,” I say, panning my hand to the door, “they’re not like me. They can cause damage. If they knew how to trigger it, and they don’t. So don’t worry. None of them will explode. But me and my sisters? The pink and silver ones? We’re different. We were made just to kill people. That’s it. That’s our only purpose.”