Chapter 8

“It was bad,” Mori said to Ula, clutching the small, decorative pillow Ula had on her couch, though she hoped she didn’t rip it apart with her tight grip. She’d never had a vision like that one—so filled with venom and hatred.

And so defined.

Not a vague emotion, but defined, with purpose. A plan. A very intricate plan.

Mori’s head hurt just thinking about it all.

“How bad?” Ula asked as she shifted position on the couch, and pulled another pillow into her lap.

“Ula, they’re going to kill someone,” Mori said. Though that was putting it very mildly.

“But, they can’t do that. They’re Transdot. They’re supposed to protect everyone.”

“I know.”

“And how did you glean that? Don’t those chips protect humans from Novians touching their minds?”

“I don’t know. They should have.” But they didn’t, and that was a far bigger problem. If casual touch would expose even the deepest darkest secrets, then Mori would have a very difficult time not touching anyone for the rest of her stay in The Colony.

“What’s the difference between what you did to that guy on the transport down and this?” Ula asked.

“This wasn’t the same. That man, it was private. I purposely grabbed his deepest things. This was different. It was on the surface.”

That’s what scared her the most. This wasn’t deep at all, it was at the top most layer of her thoughts.

She squeezed the pillow again.

The pain had subsided from the vision, finally.

While Morrigan hadn’t spewed it to the person she’d gleaned it from, sharing this with Ula seemed to work in this case.

But truly, what else could she have done? Gone after the Transdot officer? And repeated the plan to her?

The officer would have shot her where she stood. No doubt in Mori’s mind. The darkness there had blackened the soul of that officer, beyond what could ever be repaired.

“Well, you have to report it,” Ula said.

“To who? If I go to Transdot—”

“They will take care of it. It’s what they do,” Ula said. “I was just reading a file today—”

“A file you were supposed to see?” Mori asked.

“That’s beside the point.”

“And the point is?”

“That Transdot’s having to watch out for this stuff. Human First is trying to ruin The Colony. So are some Novian terrorist organizations. They all want to see this fail.”

The Colony was supposed to create peace between the two groups, to stop the wars and the terrorist attacks. Prove that the wars really were over.

Yet for every moment Mori thought about the vision, the sick feeling lingered. This felt bigger than a few extremist groups trying to cause trouble.

This was about igniting a war again.

Or worse.

Maybe they were right. Maybe humans and Novians could not coexist. Not be able to be in the same system or the same world. Or the same colony.

“Maybe it should,” Morrigan whispered.

“You don’t mean that.”

“If they’re working this hard to ruin each other, then maybe humans and Novians don’t belong together. Maybe we should be on separate worlds and just be done.” She ran her hand over her head, and felt the sticks bundled in her hair.

Her weapons.

Even she wasn’t unarmed here in The Colony.

Was she any better than the woman she’d gleaned the vision from? She was prepared for battle—while she didn’t have much of her Novian powers left, she had a little bit. And the visions never had anything to do with being Novian.

Was she any different from those who wanted to war?

But wasn’t that why she and everyone else in The Colony had come? To not be at war? To end the destructive conflict between the two species?

That had been the idea. To stop the fighting.

She had nothing else left in Nova. At least when she left here, she’d be an ambassador of peace instead of a goddess of war.

Was peace even possible? Would it even matter in the end?

Ula raised her eyebrow. “And what are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t know.” If she went to Transdot, would they do anything? Would they care? It was one of their own. “The plan’s already in motion. They’ve already begun preparing for it.”

Were they behind Human First all together?

She wasn’t certain.

And that was something she truly hated about her current state—not exactly Novian, not quite human.

Ula shook her head. “You can’t just sit by. A woman’s going to die if you just hang onto this information. Surely that has to mean something.”

Mori nodded. “It does.”

* * *

The Transdot officer didn’t believe a word of Morrigan’s story.

He’d sighed three times, rolled his eyes twice, and now he was just staring at her like he expected more.

But what else could she give him? It was a vision. Not actual evidence. And the more she thought about it the more she wondered if she had been foolish for coming to Transdot to tell them about this.

“I told you what I know,” Mori said.

“Yeah. You did. But no name. No race. Nothing. You just said the target was a female Novian. Do you have any idea how many of those we have here?”

“She was an ambassador during the peace talks at the end of Nova War. She was important,” Mori said, her voice raising with the last words.

“But you don’t know who the target is. So what good is it to me?”

“I can identify her. I can see her face.”

“With what? You going to draw her or something?”

“I am sure I could find her in a holographic lineup. There weren’t that many ambassadors there at the end.”

The man paused, sigh dying on his lips, and he looked away for a second, then back at her.

“Do you know how many people there are here? There’s over a hundred thousand residents and workers. You don’t even know if she’s here. It could have been a memory, not a vision.”

She glared back at him, disgusted with his insult. “I can certainly tell the difference between a memory and a vision of the future.”

He waved his hand. “I don’t have the time or the resources to find your precious target. Besides, how do I know you’re not the attacker and using this as a way to cover your tracks?”

“Me? I’m reporting my vision.”

“Pbbt,” he huffed. “And what good is a vision? You damn Novians and your visions. They don’t do us any good without facts. Why can’t you all get it through your heads? Futures can be changed. Don’t you know that?”

Unfortunately, she knew that better than most. “What do you want? Holograms? Just check the cameras in the areas I told you about. I am certain they don’t function.” In the vision, there had been cameras that were specifically disabled. She’d thought for sure that they had already been locked down.

He snorted. “Already did sweetheart. They all work just fine.”

She shook her head. “They can’t. I... They should be disabled, to hide the attack. That was in the plans already.” And she’d seen them being disabled.

“And how would you know what the plans were?”

“Just, just what I saw.”

“Uh huh. Maybe you need to tell me everything. And try the truth this time,” the officer said. “Like who you’re working for. And why you’re trying to hang this on them.”

“I’m not working for anyone. I am here because a crime is about to be committed, and you all need to be prepared. A woman’s life is in danger. An important woman.”

“An important woman whose name you don’t know.”

“Right.”

“Uh huh.” He leaded back, his chair rocking. “Now that you’re done with your story, you can tell me the truth. Like who’s really behind this. And what your affiliation is with Human First.”

Her eyebrow went up. “I never mentioned Human First. And why would I be a part of a terrorist group that kill Novians?”

“Who else would want to kill Novians?”

“You. Me. Anyone. Killing is not limited to terrorists. Anyone can lift a weapon and strike someone down.”

“Is that so?”

“Of course it is. And you know that,” she said, glaring at the officer. Her words must have struck some kind of chord with him, because he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, so Morrigan pressed. “Now bring me what I need to identify this woman and save her life.”

Like a switch, the man’s uncomfortable posture shifted, and he returned to his resistant expression, like whatever had made him stumble before was gone. “I don’t believe your story. I think you’re here to blame this on someone else, so when the attack happens—”

“So you believe there will be an attack,” Mori said. “You just said you didn’t believe me.”

He opened his mouth to say something else, when the door opened.

In came another Transdot officer. “That’s enough. I think she’s done here.”

The officer glared at her. “Yes ma’am, Transdot Dumol.”

She nodded as the man walked out.

Dumol smiled at Mori. “Thank you for your report. I’ve already logged it into the database and we’ll be keeping an eye out for any issues.”

“That’s it? You don’t want me to identify the woman?”

“We have it under control,” Dumol said. “I ask you to forgive Officer Charz. He, unfortunately, has to listen to case reports all day, and almost all are fake.”

“How so?” Mori asked, an uneasy feeling spreading over her. The room suddenly took on a hard chill.

Dumol shrugged. “People who want attention, blame their partner, or even ex-partner for fake things. Novians who are mad at humans, or vice versa. You cannot imagine the number of fake reports that we see on a daily basis.” Dumol gestured with her hand. “Come. I’ll escort you out.”

Mori nodded. “Thank you.”

Dumol held the door for her, and as Mori walked through, pain hit her, and everything went dark.