PROLOGUE
The jungle surrounded Baylin like a living thing. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth, rotting vegetation, and something floral and sickly sweet that clung to the back of his throat. Everything was green—variations on a theme so overwhelming that it felt as if he were drowning in chlorophyll.
He pushed through another curtain of hanging vines, sweat trickling down his spine. The journey had taken longer than he’d anticipated. A week by horseback to the nearest outpost, then ten days of hiking through terrain that resisted every step. The jungle didn’t want him here. Everything about it was designed to entangle intruders and swallow them whole.
But he was Vultor. The jungle was merely an annoyance.
He paused at the top of a small rise to study his surroundings. All he could see was more jungle, a thick canopy of trees that stretched towards an ocean he couldn’t see but could sense in the faint tang of salt underlying the heavier scents of the jungle. The air shimmered with heat and humidity, and insects buzzed around his head with lazy persistence.
According to the coordinates, he was close, but it was already too late in the day to travel much farther. Instead of making camp right away, he chose the tallest tree he could find and began to climb. By the time he broke through the canopy, the branches had thinned to the point where they swayed dangerously beneath his weight, but the climb was worth it.
The glittering expanse of the sea stretched out in front of him, streaked with red and purple by the setting sun. And there, on a rocky outcropping at the very edge of the jungle stood the tower. A weathered stone structure the color of the rocks, somehow both ancient and timeless, with several smaller buildings clustered around the base.
He’d found it.
A light suddenly spilled out into the deepening twilight from one of the windows carved into the stone. An artificial light. Technology in a place where technology should not exist.
Someone was there.
Night was rapidly creeping over the jungle. He should return to the ground and make camp. Instead, he stared at that distant light and wondered who had been hiding here for twenty years. The mystery called to him, pulling at something deep in his chest as if it held the answer to the restlessness that had kept him traveling for so long.
The tower had secrets.
And he was going to discover exactly what they were.
CHAPTER ONE
The tomato plant had finally flowered. Liora crouched beside the raised bed, her worn notebook balanced on her knee as she sketched the delicate yellow blossoms. Three flowers on the main stem and two more budding on the secondary branch she’d pinched back six weeks ago. Her hypothesis had been correct—controlled stress produced more vigorous flowering. She added the date and a quick notation about the soil moisture levels, then reached for her watering can.
Pip chittered from his perch on a nearby shelf, his silver-gray fur catching the morning light that streamed through the glass panels overhead.
“I’m excited too,” she said without looking up. “You can have the first ripe one. I promise.”
The little glider chittered again, then launched himself from the shelf to glide across to her shoulder. His feathered tail brushed against her neck as he settled, his large luminous eyes fixed on the tomato plant as if he could will the fruit into existence through sheer determination.
She laughed and continued her inspection. The peppers needed support stakes because they’d grown faster than she’d anticipated. The lettuce was ready for another harvest. The beans were climbing their trellis in enthusiastic spirals, already higher than her head. She made notes on everything—growth rates, leaf coloration, and any signs of pest damage or nutrient deficiency.
Twenty-three varieties currently under cultivation, all of them varieties of Earth plants that had been genetically modified to survive on this colonization planet. Fourteen successful experiments in progress, despite her limited resources. Not for the first time, she cast a wistful glance at the wide variety of plant life in the jungle visible through the open ventilation panels, all of it inaccessible to her.
At least ARIS, the Autonomous Residential Intelligence System that controlled the rest of the tower’s systems, allowed her to dictate the conditions in the greenhouse in order to run her experiments. The experiments that gave her life purpose.
She paused at the herb section, crushing a leaf of basil between her fingers and breathing in the sharp, sweet scent. The smell always reminded her of Susan, who had taught her to cook when she was barely tall enough to reach the countertops. Susan, who had taken care of her and tended the greenhouse before her and told her stories about the world beyond the tower.
Susan, who had simply not woken up one morning six years ago.
ARIS had told her what to do, calmly repeating its instructions until the fog of grief lifted enough for her to understand. She’d managed to move Susan’s body to a hover cart, covering her with her favorite quilt, and then ARIS had simply… whisked her away. Liora had never seen her again, but she still talked to hersometimes, on quiet evenings when the loneliness pressed too close.
Pip nuzzled against her jaw, sensing the shift in her mood.
“I’m fine,” she told him, scratching the spot behind his ears that always made his eyes flutter closed in pleasure. “Just thinking.”
She finished her rounds and recorded the final observations. After cutting a small bouquet of flowers and harvesting the ripest produce, she made her way down the spiral staircase that connected the greenhouse to the rest of the tower. The tower was seven levels in total with the greenhouse at the top, then her personal quarters, the library and living spaces, the kitchen and dining area, her workshop, the storage rooms, and finally the ground level that ARIS kept sealed against the outside world.
The kitchen was her favorite room after the greenhouse with its warm wood surfaces and the balcony that looked out into the jungle. The morning light sparkled on the copper pots hanging from the ceiling as she threw open the doors to the balcony and breathed in the familiar combination of salt air and verdant jungle.
Pip leapt from her shoulder, soaring across the room in a graceful arc before landing on his perch by the open doors. He loved the view from here, watching the birds that occasionally ventured close to the tower, and she smiled as she placed the flowers she’d cut into a glass vase before turning to the matter of breakfast.
Deciding that her successful experiment was worth celebrating, she selected two of the eggs from her last supply delivery. There were only a limited number of fresh ingredients in the twice yearly deliveries and she hoarded them for as long as possible.Today’s breakfast would be an omelet with peppers and onions along with toasted bread from her latest batch and a simple salad of mixed greens and herbs.
