Lancer: An Epic Sci-Fi Adventure (Godslayers Book 1)

by T.R. More

“I can shoot her, right?” “Tempting, but there are too many witnesses.” “I could cloak and shoot her.” “Lilith.”

I crossed my arms and pouted. In the distance, Lirian fluttered away, tragically devoid of bullet holes.

Not a stealth field—we didn’t want to attract Meris’s angels with eau de hidey place.

“My luck is usually pretty good,” I said, pretending like any of this was news to me. Halfway across the city, my luck finished exfiltrating from the Ferades estate and headed for the mission site.

I would say something like, “All of these people were sharks,” but they didn’t have those here. So all of these people were, like, some kind of really sneaky soulless predator. Like a mongoose or something.

“But now if I lose, you’re going down with me,” I said. “Right,” she said. “Then I don’t need to go to any more social events. I’m happy either way, really.” I—huh. Clever girl.

“Ladies!” said Lady Obol. I grinned at Lirian. She was expecting me to play her game, but Darwin help me, I was going to drag her down to my level and beat her with experience.

I spent most of the next day lying down in a dark room and trying not to throw up. Concussions: the gift that keeps on giving.

Cultures struggle to separate the appearance of a thing from the thing itself.

“Gee, I hope no one tries to kill us again on the way to the temple,” I said. “Don’t tempt the goddesses,” Kuril shot back. “They take issue with that kind of comment.” “I’m sure their angels are watching over us,” said Roel. Five blocks away, the commander was assembling a sniper rifle. “Sure,” I said. “Let’s go with that.”

Sic semper bigotus, bitch.

The votes came in. Markus won laurels. But Cades won first place. Calmly, reasonably, I decided I was going to burn their world down.

“All hail Markus Swineslayer!” I said. “Vanquisher of bacon!” Val added. “It’s not funny, guys,” said Markus, actually sounding a little hurt.

Like, maybe the thing experiencing my experience of myself was somehow different than the thing experiencing that thing? Fuck, I didn’t even have words for these half-baked ideas, how was I going to organize them?

“What do you feel?” Fear. Grief. Confusion. Triumph. Tension. Anger. Elation. Freedom. Guilt. Exhaustion. “I’m sitting,” I said. “Correct,” said Val, and I knew I’d won.

“Val’s an asshole. You’re not constantly losing your cool with him.” “I heard that.” “Back to the science mines, peon,” Abby said, sharing a grin with me.

Occasionally I threw phrases from the book back at Abby, like what the fuck does “Ou eloi camereon” mean, the sebek said the “-eon” ending is just for questions, and it’s not a fucking question. Oh, great, it’s sarcasm? Their grammar has sarcasm? Who designed this shit?

The important thing about superstition is the placebo effect, the verisimilitude that convinces everyone that there’s real weight behind it.

“The opposing agent is still in your area. Do you feel comfortable performing absence meditation in the field?” “Fuck it, why not,” I said. “Airplane mode, activate.” “What? Are you asking for air support?” “Shh. Gotta focus.”

She’s going to fucking cut me open. With, like, a spoon.”

“It’s what they taught us in the Academy,” I said. “Swords are just swords. The real weapon is me. It’s named Lilith.”

“What happened?” Val’s voice came to me. “Well, Roel’s clearly up to something, and now she’s got Alouren running interference,” I said. “If you’re struggling to outmaneuver untrained teenagers, I’ve heard tell of an ancient technique called subtlety.” “Yeah, but have you used it?” Val’s scoff rippled through the etheric channel. “I am the very soul of subtlety.”

I kicked the wall. It was made of rock. I was wearing sandals. Smart, Lilith. Real smart.

“You found your own way well enough,” Obol said with wounded pride. “But it’s good that the next generation has some respect.” “Just us country bumpkins,” I said. “Godsmile, Lady Obol.” “Go to hell,” she said.

A proud-looking woman forewent the wisdom of the crowd, standing her ground with an outstretched hand. “I invoke the Right of Challen—” I punched her in the face and kept going.

She chuckled softly at my deflection. “I’m practicing an ancient technique, handed down over generations.” “You’ve seen the movie before.” “Oh good, you’ve heard of it.”

“Awesome! Fuck her! Let’s do it in shifts. I call the middle of the night.” They laughed at that. I laughed along, like I was joking. I wasn’t joking.

Our immediate situation wasn’t great. We’d just exploded enough octopus meat to stock every sushi restaurant in Japan for about eight years, and they probably heard the boom all the way back in Vitareas. There’s no way they missed that over in Bulcephine. We were about to make a lot of friends, very quickly.

Eight thousand years of technological progress, reshaping the cosmos like gods, and we used it to build a bunch of arches. The Romans always got the last laugh.

“I like you better this way,” I said. “I was never here. Stay here for a minute, then forget this whole conversation.” I turned to walk away, stopped, and turned back. “Before I go,” I said, considering. “You know what? Stick with the classics. Punch yourself in the face.”

Twas the night before Sportsmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring except for— “You motherfucking silence cultists, I swear to Darwin,” I said, waving Lilith at the fuzzy blur that my MDO said was an enemy. “What did you think was going to happen here?”

I gave Markus and Cades a thumbs-up as they passed. They ignored me, probably because I was invisible. Whatever, it’s the thought that counts.

“Fine,” she said. “I trust you. Val, do it. Lilith, you and I get to figure out how to stop a demigod.” I grinned. “I have an excellent track record there.” “Without shooting him in the face.” “Oh. That’s a lot harder.”

I wondered if it was also that I needed to kill something, but the thought of cutting her down didn’t shift the emptiness I was feeling. If anything, it just felt like—checking off a to-do list item. Fold laundry, get groceries, take out the fucking trash.

There were days when I didn’t leave my room and days when I was furious with everyone for no reason. One time, I punched Markus in the face and then cried for four hours. I also tried to hit Val with a chessboard, but that one doesn’t count. I maintain that anyone would have done the same, soul damage or not.