Trust. There was that word again.
I looked at Vax, at the fear and suspicion in his eyes. At Zelana, who watched with that knowing expression that suggested she’d already seen how this would play out. At the damaged grow facility and the encroaching clouds and the weight of every decision that rested on my shoulders.
Then I looked at Cleo. At the determination in her unchanging brown eyes, the confidence in her stance, the wayshe’d fixed our water system without hesitation and was now offering to do the same for our grow facility.
At the female whose presence made my marks burn with recognition and certainty.
“Come with me,” I said. “I’ll take you to the central chamber.”
“Lord Rezor—” Vax started.
“Your objection is noted.” I kept my voice level but firm. “But this is final. Cleo has proven herself trustworthy.” I leaned close to him and said quietly, “We are out of options, Vax. And you know it.” I returned to Cleo’s side and gestured toward the path that led to the underground access tunnels. “Take whatever tools you may need.”
Cleo tucked a couple devices in her belt and fell into step beside me as we left the grow facility. Vax and a guard followed at a careful distance, close enough to intervene if needed but far enough to give us space. Zelana stayed behind, probably to examine the damage and divine more prophecies from it.
The entrance to the underground chamber was hidden beneath an unassuming storage building near the village center. I’d only been down there a handful of times in my tenure as lord. The technology was too complex, too alien, for most current D’tran to understand. The ancestors who built the structures that powered the village must have had outside knowledge, or they were true geniuses. I only wished they’d recorded maintenance records so that future generations would know how to properly maintain it. We did so through careful procedure and ritual more than true comprehension.
But Cleo might actually understand it. Might see patterns and connections that had been lost to us for generations.
The door required both my hands on the access panel and a specific sequence of touches to open. Ancient security, designed to keep unauthorized people out. When it finally slid open with a hiss of displaced air, cool darkness waited beyond. Vax and the guard took stations on either side of the door.
“Stay close,” I told Cleo. “The tunnels are confusing if you don’t know the way.”
We descended stone steps that had been worn smooth by generations of feet. Bioluminescent panels set into the walls provided just enough light to see by, casting everything in shades of blue-green.
At the bottom, another door. Then, the central chamber sprawled before us.
Everything that ran power to the village, from the water purifiers to the grow facility to the dim lights in homes, came from this location. Tubes ran along the ceiling and walls, some as thick as my arm, others thin as fingers, all pulsing with faint light. Wires connected bulky devices that hummed with power, creating a low hum. Control panels covered many surfaces, most dark and inactive, a few still glowing with symbols I couldn’t read.
I had no idea what any of it did. Just that it kept us alive. Kept the water flowing, the lights working, the essential systems functioning.
Cleo stopped at the entrance, her eyes going wide. “This is fascinating.” She moved forward slowly, her gaze darting from device to device, taking it all in with visible awe. “Thisis really old technology. Some of this might be thousands of cycles old.”
She walked through the chamber, occasionally reaching out to touch panels, to trace connections, muttering to herself in a mix of D’tran and her own language. I followed at a distance, watching her catalog and assess. She was efficient. It was clear she understood what she was seeing.
As Cleo moved deeper into the chamber, her movements slowed. She stopped in front of a particularly complex array of components and her expression shifted from wonder to concern.
“Cleo?” I moved closer. “What’s wrong?”
She turned to face me, and the look in her eyes made my blood run cold.
“Someone’s been in here,” she said quietly. “Recently. And they’ve been doing things to the system.”
The words hung in the air. “What?” I closed the distance between us, all thoughts of maintaining space forgotten. “What kind ofthings?”
“Look.” She pointed to a cluster of tubes that connected to a hub. It looked identical to everything else, to my eyes. “These should be aligned in a specific pattern for optimal power distribution. But they’ve been rearranged. Thankfully, they didn’t know what they were doing and all it did was create inefficiencies. But eventually, the strain on these connections would have caused cascading failures.”
My marks blazed as I leaned closer, trying to see what she saw. “How can you tell it’s intentional?”
“Because there’s no way this grid could have operated for so long with such a chaotic setup. This is an absolute mess.Also, you can see a layer of dust on everything, but not this array. It was wiped clean.” Her voice was tight with barely controlled anger. “Your water purification failure might not have been an accident. Someone might be messing with the power distribution tocauseproblems.”
The implications crashed over me like a physical blow. Sabotage. Someone in my village, someone with access to this chamber, deliberately destroying the systems that kept us alive.
“Who?” The word came out harsh, almost a growl. “Who would do this?”
Cleo met my eyes, and I saw the same fury I felt reflected in her gaze. “Someone who wants to make it look like the ‘sky people’ are here to destroy you.”
She was right. The timing was too perfect. They arrived, and immediately systems started failing. Making it look like the prophecy’s warning of ruin was coming true. Making it easier to argue for their exile or execution.
