Bay could not imagine sleeping. Nervous energy coursed through his body. He spent two hours in the ship's gym, lifting weights until his muscles ached and nearly tore. With every rep, he saw another death. And he lifted those weights until everything hurt, until his muscles were screaming. But the pain was good.
Finally, past midnight, he returned to his cabin, the small chamber he had been sharing with Rowan. She was still awake, sitting on the bedside, gazing out a porthole. She was still wearing her uniform. She was holding her gun. She did not even turn toward him.
"Can't sleep?" Bay asked her.
Rowan did not move. Did not acknowledge him. Bay stood awkwardly beside her.
"Row—" he began.
She turned toward him at last. He took a step back.
Her eyes … They were dry. But filled with such pain.
"Bay," she whispered. "I …"
Her gun trembled in her hands.
Bay sat beside her, gently extricated Lullaby from her grip, and placed the pistol on a bedside table. He held her hands. Small hands. So pale and delicate. The fingers short and thin. The nails� bitten down to stubs.
"Rowan, I'm here," he said.
Finally her tears flowed.
"The things we saw," she said. "Someday maybe I can learn to deal with that. Maybe I can someday forgive the scorpions and the basilisks for what they did to us. But one thing I can never forgive. What they made me do." She trembled. "Who am I, Bay? Am I nothing but a killer?"
He embraced her. She trembled against him, and he kissed the top of her head.
"You're the woman I love," he said. "A woman who is kind, and intelligent, and brave, and funny, and wonderful. You will always be Rowan Emery, a pure soul. You might become harder. Stronger. Scarred. But on the inside, I know you'll always be the same. And I'll always love you."
She looked into his eyes and caressed his cheek. "I love you too, doofus."
He wiped her tears. "Thanks, hobbit."
"Now kiss me, dumbass," she said.
He did.
They made love. No—tonight was not about "making love," tonight was not gentle or romantic. They had sweaty, desperate, rough sex. They clung to each other. They cried out—in pleasure, in fear, in grief, in love. They climaxed together, and Rowan had tears in her eyes. Bay held her close, soothing her, kissing away her tears as she nestled against him.
"I love you," he whispered to her again. "I love you so much. Always."
She curled against him and slept in his arms. Bay remained awake for a long time, stroking her damp hair over and over, seeking comfort in offering comfort, seeking solace in protecting her, relief in her softness and warmth. Finally he slept, his hand on the small of her back, and whenever the nightmares woke him, she was there again, mumbling in her sleep, kissing him until they slept again.
Lights brightened across the ship, bringing artificial dawn.
They were near a frozen planet. A world of refugees.
Their war continued.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Leona sighed.
"So it won't be alien scorpions that destroy humanity. It won't be giant talking snakes. It won't be any of the damn centipedes, spiders, and squids that have attacked Earth throughout the generations." Leona looked around her and rolled her eyes. "It'll be a bunch of Ra damn ants."
She was exaggerating, perhaps. After all, the ants—these natives of Oridia Gamma—hadn't attacked her and Tom. Not yet, in any case. But Leona desperately needed to fly into space. To find allies. To lobby for votes. Unless the ants had a spaceship tucked away, humanity was doomed.
I need to save the world, and instead, I'm stuck in the galaxy's largest ant farm, she thought.
An ant was still carrying her. The little bugger was no larger than a dog, but it was damn strong. Another ant was carrying Tom.
Countless other ants were here too, filling the city. They were all staring at the two captive humans, chattering among themselves and reaching out to touch Leona and Tom. They seemed more curious than hostile. There was that at least. But Leona couldn't help but wonder: Are they curious what we taste like?
Though stress consumed Leona, she had to admit: There was a certain beauty to this city of the ants. The Oridians had woven the trees into elaborate structures, bending trunks and branches into archways, bridges, and balconies. Cobbled roads ran along the ground. Buildings of stone and wood rose everywhere, some several stories tall. Ants were climbing up and down their walls with ease. Leona peeked into windows as the ants carried her past. Most buildings were residential, and ants lounged inside on piles of straw and soil. Other buildings contained piles of eggs, and some housed nurseries for larvae. There were stone granaries too, and ants stood atop them, shooing away birds.
The Oridians had not only developed architecture but agriculture too. Gardens grew on balconies, providing fruit, vegetables, and nuts. City parks were devoted to growing more crops. Trees grew in valleys, and aphids covered the branches, hundreds per tree. Ant farmers were milking the aphids, collecting their honeydew into jars.
Even more amazingly, the ants had developed technology. They were only in the steam era, but Leona was amazed such small, simple creatures could be so clever. Automobiles rumbled down the cobbled roads, their steam engines puffing. They carried inside them produce, jars of honeydew, and eggs. Other steam engines were attached to factories, powering ant industry. A train chugged through the city on wooden tracks, chimney puffing, ferrying passengers out to the countryside. Once, Leona even heard a rumbling above, and she looked up to see a wooden airplane.
It was amazing, yes. But wooden airplanes wouldn't get Leona into orbit, let alone cross the light-years to the Council.
"You know, it's kinda nice here," Tom said, lounging on the back of his ant.
Leona glared at him. "How can you say that?"
He shrugged. "The city is clean. Not a speck of dirt or a fume of smog. And we get free transportation."
She rolled her eyes. "Most likely it's free transportation to wherever they slaughter and cook humans." She looked ahead and winced. "We might finally be there."
A grand structure rose ahead, large as a cathedral. It was built of stone, but it looked more like a dripping castle of wet sand. Turrets, domes, and balconies were patched on haphazardly, round or oval, some sloping downward like melting wax. Bronze statues rose around the tower, depicting bipedal ants, their antennae topped with gemstones the size of apples. Several ants, clad in draping white garments, were carrying jars of honeydew through a doorway. Other ants were emerging from the tower, carrying baskets of eggs.
At the doorway, ants demanded Tom and Leona surrender their weapons. Leona was reluctant to surrender Arondight. Her rifle was like a part of her. But maybe Tom was right. They had gone on this mission to find allies, not fight wars. She begrudgingly handed over her rifle.
The ants then carried Tom and Leona through the doorway and into a shadowy hall. Several battle ants stood guard, larger than the others—as large as pit bulls. They wore armor and carried scimitars.
The smaller ants dropped the two humans, nipped at their heels, and goaded them forward.
"Go, go!" the ants said. "Let her see you. Let her judge you. She is wise."
Leona wished she still had her weapon. She glanced at Tom. He nodded at her reassuringly. How he could remain so calm Leona would never know.
The ants nipped their heels again. "Go, go!"
Leona was tempted to kick them. She pushed the urge away. These guards had mean-looking blades, and Leona couldn't defeat them without her rifle. She stepped forward obediently, and Tom walked at her side.
They reached a cone of light, and Leona froze and gasped.
"It's the queen," she whispered. "Ra. Look at the size of her."
The Queen Ant lounged on a hill of soil. She was the size of a Volkswagen Beetle, the kind Leona had seen in old Earth movies. Leona had expected an ant queen to be squishy and pale, more like a maggot. But this queen loo
ked like a regular ant—the same exoskeleton, the same legs, the same antennae—just freakishly large.
The queen was silent, seeming not even to notice the two humans.
Leona cleared her throat. "Greetings! I am Colonel Leona Ben-Ari, a human of Earth. With me is Colonel Tom Shepherd, a fellow human. We come in peace, offering friendship."
The queen remained silent.
A circle of wooden fans surrounded the massive insect, cooling her in the stifling room. Smaller ants kept stepping up, one by one, and offering her jars of honeydew. Several ants waited behind the queen. Every few moments, the queen laid another egg, which a worker ant collected in a basket. Honeydew in, eggs out. A continuous cycle.
Leona coughed politely.
"We would be happy to exchange knowledge, cultural and technological," Leona said. "We're a friendly species, and—"
Queen Ant spoke, interrupting her. "We know who you are." She raised her heavy head and stared at Leona with beady eyes. "You are bug killers."
The warrior ants stepped closer, armor clanking, and raised their blades. Leona winced.
"We like bugs—honestly!" Leona squirmed. "Ladybugs, butterflies, fireflies …" The guards stepped closer. "Ants … especially ants! Right, Tom?" She nudged him.
The tall, silver-haired man nodded. "Your species and city are fascinating, my queen. We have no wish to harm you. We come only in friendship."
The queen shifted on her pile of soil. She kicked, knocking over jars of honeydew, and clacked her mandibles.
"Liars! I know of you humans. I know your sordid history. First you fought the centipedes of Abaddon, and you destroyed their world. Then you fought the marauders, the spiders of Corpus. Only recently, you butchered the Skra-Shen scorpions. You have spent the history of your species killing those you call bugs. And now you come to me and pretend to be friendly? I call you: deceivers!"
Leona took a step forward. The guards moved in and crossed their swords, blocking her. Leona glared over them at the queen.
"Those species attacked us!" she said. "We had to defend ourselves. But we also formed friendships with many aliens. With the peaceful Gouramis of the watery depths. With the Menorians of many arms. With the Aelonians too."
The queen snorted. "Fish. Mollusks. Humanoids. Yes, perhaps you associated with those species. But any insect you encountered—you killed! You destroyed their cities!" The queen rose on her throne of dirt, eyes wroth. "Perhaps we ants should now be the ones who do the killing."
"When have we ever hurt ants?" Leona demanded. "We're a very calm, peaceful species!" She stamped her feet, clenched her fists, and her voice rose to a shout. "Can't you see that we're peaceful, dammit? What the hell is wrong with you!"
Tom gently pulled down her fists.
"Leona, better let me handle this," he said. "I used to be a Peacekeeper. Maybe I can make some peace here too."
Grumbling, Leona stepped back. She gestured. "The stage is yours."
Tom held out his hands toward the Queen Ant.
"These are my hands," he said. "I am holding them toward you to show how they carry no weapon. This is a gesture of peace among humans. My companion and I traveled to the stars to make peace with new species. To form not only friendships—but alliances. We have much to teach you. We have built great ships that� travel between the stars. We have developed medicine to cure many diseases. We have seeds of sturdy crops that can grow through drought and storm. And we know we can learn a lot from you too. Your city is filled with wonders and beauty. As we passed through it, we saw statues and cathedrals of coiling wood, and we heard the songs of many singers. We know that you can enrich our culture, as we can enrich yours. Let us share our wisdom. Let us trade. Let us grow together."
Leona stared at him in wonder.
Well, I'll be, she thought. She had not expected that. She knew Tom had been a shepherd, a galactic cop, a rebel, and an officer. She hadn't known he was also a diplomat.
It's no wonder Dad chose him for this mission, she thought.
The Queen Ant stared at Tom, still tense. Her guards still held their swords raised.
"You say this now," the queen said. "Because you are only two humans, and you are unarmed. What if you return with many? With great machines of war? We ants are simple beings. We have no advanced weaponry. No ships that can sail among the stars. If your armies arrive, they will destroy us. Perhaps I should destroy you first."
Leona stepped forward again. This time no anger filled her. She spoke softly.
"I understand. For many eras, we humans too were afraid. We too were vulnerable. Many more powerful species attacked us. Destroyed our cities. Butchered billions of us." Leona lowered her head. "We still mourn . I myself lost many loved ones." She looked back up, eyes damp. "So we flew out among the stars. To find other allies. To find friends. Other species like ours—who believe in goodness, in peace. Who can join together to face the predators. We humans and ants are not enemies. We are species who seek to build, not to destroy. Let us build together. Separate, we are weak. United, we will be stronger than anyone can imagine."
She was not a natural public speaker. Leona had always been more about guns and engines than words and handshakes. But to her surprise, the Queen Ant relaxed. She gestured at her guards, and the armored ants stepped back.
"You and I are not so different," the Queen Ant said to Leona. "You are a queen among your people."
"We have no queens," Leona said.
"I think you do." The Queen Ant nodded. "You may not know it. But you do. That is the first thing I will teach you."
Leona felt a sudden stab of pain. She glanced at the pile of eggs behind the Queen Ant. This great insect was remarkably fertile. Leona meanwhile had lost her child many years ago, a wound that had never healed.
Maybe in some ways, I'm a queen, she thought. But I'll never be a mother.
"Maidens!" said the Queen Ant to her smaller ants, the ones draped in white. "Show our guests to comfortable burrows, and serve them a feast. At dawn, our exchange of wisdom will begin."
The ants took them to a chamber on the top floor. It was a cozy little room with a view. The ants served a meal on wooden plates. The fruit and nuts were delicious, but Leona gave the honeydew a pass. After seeing the ants milk the aphids, she didn't feel like drinking bug juice.
When night fell, she and Tom curled up on the floor. The ants had no beds, but thankfully they had offered blankets woven of leaves and flowers. As the stars emerged outside, they heard the songs of ants singing in temples, perhaps their evening prayers. It was a beautiful, ethereal choir.
"It's nice here," Tom said.
Leona nodded. "Yes, but I'm scared, Tom. We have no way to contact Earth. They don't know we're marooned here. They think we're still on our mission—collecting allies."
"I think we found an ally," Tom said.
Leona rolled her eyes. "Yes, okay, we found one ally. But that won't help us. We need a lot of votes. Tom, if we can't win this vote, the basilisks will unleash their full military might. They'll destroy Earth. We have to get off this world."
"Leona, I know," Tom said. "But the basilisks blew up our spaceship. And these ants are only in the steam era."
She held his hand and looked into his eyes. "Well, we told the Queen Ant we'll share information, right?" She nodded. "We have one year."
He frowned. "One year for what?"
She smiled. "To teach ants how to build a spaceship."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The basilisks were still assaulting the walls when twenty thousand new refugees landed in the colony.
They were skinny, some starving. Many were wounded, and many were ravaged by disease. They had survived the gulocks, then the basilisk pits. Some had endured torture. They had all spent years in hell.
They needed medicine. Food and water. Comfort, love, and healing.
And within moments of their landing, Emet made them soldiers.
They lined up before him. Men. Women. Children. An
yone who could stand. He gave each one a gourd of water, a loaf of bread, and a rifle. From that moment, they were no longer refugees. They were soldiers in the Human Defense Force. And they were fighting a war.
With the new arrivals, Port Addison had doubled in size. Nearly forty thousand humans now lived on Earth, crammed within the walls. Leona had formed this colony with only two hundred souls. It was now filled to the brim. And any day now, Operation Exodus would be returning with more refugees.
"Within a year," Emet told his soldiers, "we want half a million humans here. Within two years—over a million. Within a decade—every human in the galaxy. We have a lot of work to do."
He divided everyone into two camps: soldiers and workers. The only ones spared were children under ten, elders over seventy, and anyone too wounded to stand. The rest fought and toiled.
The soldiers patrolled the walls. Until the Galactic Council voted, the basilisks could not deploy their military. But the wild basilisks of the mountains attacked relentlessly.
Here were beasts unbound by any treaty. One day, three basilisks burrowed under the wall, invaded a nursery, and devoured several babies. Another day, the basilisks tore down a wooden guard tower, dragged the screaming guards away, and tortured them for hours before slaying them. Some basilisks had begun to construct their own weapons and form militias. They built crude catapults and hurled stones and flaming logs into the colony. Every day, they killed.
And every day, humanity fought back. Day and night, the brave soldiers of Earth fired on the basilisks, holding the serpents back, defending the walls. They fought as they mourned their fallen brothers and sisters. They fought though exhaustion, fear, and hunger tore at their bodies and souls. They fought because, for the first time in their lives, they were not prisoners. For the first time, they stood tall.
The workers suffered and contributed no less. They mixed concrete and built fortified homes instead of tents. They constructed new walls, expanding Port Addison even under enemy fire. A few brave workers dashed outside the wall, raised a wooden tower, dug a moat, and claimed new territory. They planted gardens. They toiled in the smithy, making new bullets and guns. The basilisks had poisoned the river, so they dug wells.
The War for Earth (Children of Earthrise Book 4) Page 18
