The Heartwood Spire? It was older than time, basically the ancestors of the Wastelands. Not the tallest by far, but just insanely thick, like a huge column made of mycelium intertwined with rock veins. It was covered in glowing moss and veins that were slowly pulsating. Its tune? The base for the Symbiote's network – a deep, calm, very old heartbeat of stability and memory.
Leo brought Maxine and Naomi there, a huge clearing at the bottom of the Spire where the air seemed to be filled with the Spire's vibration. The ground felt like it was alive, covered with soft mycelium that glowed where you stepped.
The heart-song is in there, Leo said softly. You have to request it. And the Spire makes the call whether you are worthy or not.
Ask? Naomi murmured, terrified of the living tower.
It's not a machine, Leo said, looking at Maxine. It's a living being, in a sense.
Maxine stepped nearer, examining it. She didn't see a human, but a gigantic biological entity. The song was a super complicated wave. How do you 'ask'?
You sing to it. A real song. Not cult stuff. A song about… being part of something. Or losing something. It likes honesty. Leo was quite serious. If it decides that you're bad news, it will throw you away. Very last time someone tried to take stuff inside, they ended up getting turned into moss food.
Maxine didn't even flinch. She looked at Naomi. You're all about feelings. Can you do this?
Naomi looked up at the huge Spire, then at Maxine's emotionless face. I… I don't know any songs.
Not words, Leo interrupted. A feeling as a sound. The network understands it. He touched the glowing bark. I'll go first, show it you're with me.
He shut his eyes and gently started to hum. It sounded like roots growing, things sharing, the quiet happiness of saving a big, hurt one. The Spire lit brighter with his hum.
He ceased and signaled at Naomi. Your turn.
Naomi's heart was racing. She thought about her salon, her fake sadness. It was all an act. What did she really feel? She thought about the clay mouth, the screaming face. The deep, empty ache that nothing helped. The wild freedom of her sister's choice. The heavy, warm stone in her pocket.
She tried to speak. At first, nothing. Then, a shaky note escaped her. It was perfect, solitary sadness. It changed, turned into a song about wanting something… not some happy high, but something real. It was like an empty plate at the best meal ever.
The Spire was reacting. The moss at her feet was vibrating. A glowing root extended and touched her hand. It didn't hurt. It felt… understanding.
Leo looked amazed. He looked at Maxine. Your turn.
Maxine facing the living tower. Her mind was a god's scream and the plan to help. What was she feeling? She had already killed that stuff a while ago. Only her goal was left. The cold need to know, to fix things. Was that a feeling?
She considered the Lobe. The black tear. That perspective. For a moment, not only had she seen it, but it had seen her. Seen her as a pattern. For a moment, recognition.
She didn't hum. She didn't sing. She turned on her Rig's speaker and connected it to her spine graft. She transmitted the raw data from that moment of recognition: the Lobe seeing her as a cool, working part of the dying network. It wasn't music, but information, a code of herself.
The Spire trembled.
The song stopped. The glowing veins flickered. Leo prepared to fight. This was very bad.
Then, the Spire's song changed. It incorporated Maxine's data into its own rhythm. The information became a song of surprise – a big brain realizing a single, brilliant piece of itself. Like a love song for a great tool.
A fissure appeared in the Spire's bark, not a wound, but a gift. A soft, light came from within.
A perfect ball of song, about the size of a grapefruit, floated out. The thing they needed.
The Spire around the line went gray and was falling apart as it released the ball.
Maxine wrapped the ball in a special box Leo gave her. It was quite warm and was buzzing with a deep peace that calmed the Echo in her head for a moment.
The Spire's song returned to normal, but it was weaker. It had given away a part of itself.
Leo looked at Maxine with a little bit of admiration. It got you. I don't know if that's good or bad.
We have it, Maxine said while closing the box. One thing off the list.
As they were going, a runner, a young Symbiote with lichen skin, came up, out of breath. Leo! The Council… they heard the blueprint-song from the data-thing. They're… fighting about it. But they feel the Heartwood's sacrifice. The Tendril-Keeper says… they attack the Spine Mountains in six days. To distract you.
Leo's expression became serious. And the real attack?
The real attack, the runner said, terrified but resolute, is here. He pointed down. The Siphoning Roots underneath the city. They'll sever the Karu.
Naomi exclaimed. Cutting off the Karu would definitely cause a huge panic, an absolute mess. A perfect distraction, pulling every guard underground.
Maxine thought quickly. The chaos peaks 36 hours later. That's when we hit the Sinoatrial Node.
The plan was ready. A combination of sacrifice and surgery.
They were rushing back when the weak song of the Heartwood Spire was following them, a sad note against the countdown in their minds.
Six days.