Resilience

by Fletcher DeLancey

  “Sorry, warrior,” the owner said. “There’s none for you.”

  She shook her head. “That was strange.”

  “What?”

  “Another memory, but it never happened,” she said, staring at the Resilere. “I mean, it didn’t happen that way. It was the day of the Battle of Alsea. I fought the Voloth all morning and spent all afternoon sifting through the wreckage of Brasalara—um, my birth town. It was past evenmeal by the time I got to an inn, and I was starving. The owner gave me a free room and as much food as I could shovel down my throat. But that wasn’t what I just saw.” She met Lhyn’s eyes. “In this vision, he said there was no food for me.”

  “No food for you?”

  She nodded.

  “Implying that there was food, but you couldn’t have it.”

  They looked at the Resilere, then at the gray block sitting on the floor beneath it.

  “Is it because we used them in traps?” Rahel wondered.

  “Maybe it thinks the block is out of reach. It hasn’t moved off that control pad since you got here, has it?”

  “No.” She considered the distance, then sighed. “I have to try.”

  “Be careful.”

  “I notice you’re not trying to talk me out of it.”

  “Would it do any good?”

  “No.” She checked to make sure her Enkara seawater was easily accessible, then rose up on her knees.

  “Wait.” Lhyn pulled yet another pad out of her sleeve pocket. “I’ll hate to lose this, because I’ve customized it. But better that than your hand. Put the block on this and offer it.”

  “Good idea.” Rahel accepted the pad and crawled slowly forward on her hands and knees.

  The Resilere rumpled its skin, then got even bumpier as she approached closer than she had before.

  No threat, she told it. Helping.

  Keeping her movements slow and easy to follow, she held the pad level, set the block on it, and raised it up.

  A small tube formed near the bottom of the Resilere’s body, the same thing she had seen on the footage of the fatal attack but in a different location. It swayed back and forth, then retracted.

  Two arms rippled down and wrapped around her forearm before she could blink.

  “Fuck, Rahel!”

  “Don’t.” It hadn’t hurt her yet. “Don’t move, don’t be afraid.”

  The arms elongated, sliding in coils around her forearm and the bare skin at her wrist. Given the way the Resilere’s skin shone, she had expected it to feel wet. But it was cool and dry, soft with an undertone of grit. Like sand under a sheet, she thought.

  It tightened its hold and pulled, demonstrating an effortless strength. Rahel rested her other hand on her stave grip, not yet resisting and hoping she wouldn’t have to.

  A third arm looped down and felt around the edges of the pad. Then it touched the mineral block.

  She was released so abruptly that she almost landed on her backside. The pad fell to the floor and the arms whipped back up, one of them forming a tight loop around the block. It curled inward to disappear under the Resilere’s body, and Rahel was—

  Sitting at a table in the tavern, embarrassed by her filthy hands and the fact that she was so exhausted she hadn’t even thought to clean them. But the food smelled so good and she was so starved—she was not about to wait.

  The first bite exploded with flavor and she thought she might actually drool.

  Rahel sat back on her heels and wiped the corner of her mouth, shocked to find she had drooled.

  “Get away from there, please.” Lhyn’s tone was carefully controlled. “Soon?”

  She reached for the pad.

  “Leave it—Shippers,” Lhyn said as Rahel picked it up. “Stubborn warrior!”

  She crawled back and held it out. “You said it was customized.”

  “I also said it wasn’t worth your hand!” Lhyn snatched the pad, anger and residual fear vying for dominance. Then she froze, her earlier emotions swept away by wonder. “Oh, my stars. Look at it!”

  The Resilere was alight with bioluminescence, not just green this time, but also blue.

  “Is it projecting?”

  “Not right now,” Rahel said. “But earlier—it was another memory. The same one as before, except the right ending this time. And one more thing. I was embarrassed in the memory because I was so dirty, but I couldn’t take the time to wash my hands. The food was too important.”

  “This is fascinating,” Lhyn breathed. “Embarrassment—that’s an advanced emotion. You can’t be embarrassed unless you have a defined set of behaviors that you consider acceptable.”

  “It was starving.” Rahel was certain of that. “But it still wouldn’t come down to the floor.”

  “Might be tactical.” Captain Serrado spoke for the first time since they had begun. “It might feel too vulnerable on the floor.”

  “But it didn’t have to come all the way to the floor to pick up the cube,” Rahel said. “It could have come halfway down and been able to reach it.”

  “Maybe it’s not a matter of wanting to move.” That was Dr. Wells’s voice. “Maybe it’s a matter of whether it can move.”

  “What are you thinking, Doctor?” Serrado asked.

  “We know they can survive out of water, but we don’t know how long it’s been for them. They might be at the end of their endurance. I’d like to try something. Zeppy, can you arrange for a tank of Enkara seawater? Something you can bring through the chases to my location?”

  “I can do that,” Zeppy answered. “Give me five or ten.”

  “As chief of security, I should point out that if they’re at the end of their endurance, we have an easy solution to our problem.” Cox cleared his throat. “That said, it would be a damned shame if we let them die.”

  “I’m shocked,” Dr. Wells said. “I didn’t think you’d care.”

  “I don’t care for homicidal rampaging aliens. But based on what we’ve all seen? This is something for the record books.”

  “Don’t make me reassess my opinion of you. It’s too much work.”

  She sounded sarcastic and slightly amused, a combination unique to her. It made Rahel smile despite the sting of knowing she was only privy to this glimpse through their shared duty. She glanced at the door to her right. Dr. Wells stood behind it, barely a body length away, yet unseen and unreachable.

  It was a perfect metaphor, Rahel decided.

  She shifted into a cross-legged position, tired of being on her knees and confident that she wouldn’t have to spring into action for at least a few minutes. Bracing her elbows on her legs, she rested her chin on her fists and watched the Resilere sparkle.

  “Let’s go over your projections while we wait.” Lhyn matched her position, dictation pad in hand. “You told it I was your friend, not your mother. How did you do that?”

  “Speaking of embarrassing,” Rahel mumbled.

  “Sorry.” But she didn’t look sorry. She looked like a child in a sweet shop, and Rahel couldn’t help being affected by her enthusiasm.

  “I thought about the first time you gave me a warmron,” she said. “And how it meant so much because you did it in a public place.”

  They worked their way through the details of that and the subsequent projections, as well as checking Lhyn’s notes regarding the memories. By the time they were caught up, the Resilere had stopped sparkling.

  “Should we offer another one?” Lhyn asked.

  “Zeppy’s almost here with the tank,” Dr. Wells said. “If that influences your decision.”

  “Tank first,” Rahel said. “If that’s the issue, it’s more important.”

  A minute later, Dr. Wells came back on the com. “We have the tank right outside. Rahel, can you warn it somehow? Tell it something unthreatening is coming in?”

  “I’ll try.”

  With careful movements, she unfolded her legs and stood upright. She didn’t know how much her mental imagery mattered, but on the chance that it
did, she pictured herself playing in Wildwind Bay, off Dock One where all the children learned to swim. She remembered diving in the water, the happiness of splashing about, the buoyancy, the wet.

  The Resilere sent no answering memory. It merely exuded loss, the way it had when she first found it.

  “I don’t think that did what I intended,” she said. “But it might accomplish the same thing.”

  She walked to the door, projecting safe and protection and thinking of Lhyn and warmrons. Then she tapped the lock pad.

  Zeppy stood behind a transparent tank of water on a low, wheeled cart. It was narrow enough to fit in the chase, came up to her mid-thigh, and held enough water for three or four Resilere.

  “That must have been fun to push through.” She refused to look at Dr. Wells, who was right behind him with the tank’s lid.

  “Just another day on the job,” he said with a quick grin.

  She backed up, keeping one eye on the Resilere and another on the progress of the tank, until it was fully on the landing. Zeppy was wildly curious about the Resilere but only glanced at it once while stepping back to the door.

  “Good luck,” he said.

  The door slid shut.

  “Now what?” Lhyn looked from the tank to the Resilere, which was ruffled with curiosity. “Splash it?”

  “Not a bad idea.” Rahel moved so that the tank was between her and the Resilere. Then she pulled up one sleeve, put her hand in the cold water, and splashed noisily.

  The Resilere puffed itself up, four arms rippling out on the wall, but remained in place.

  “Hm. Let’s try a little wave splash.” She cupped her hand and threw the water.

  It jerked as the drops hit, shrinking its arms. Then they elongated again and two more joined them, all writhing along the wall. It looked frightening, but Rahel felt no threat. “It’s wondering,” she said. “Tempted, but reluctant to move.”

  She splashed it again.

  With a suddenness that surprised a squeak from Lhyn, the Resilere dropped to the floor and flowed toward the tank. Its arms reached up, examining the smooth sides and the cart’s wheels.

  Rahel swooshed a small wave of water over the edge, thoroughly drenching the Resilere. It drew back slightly, then shimmied up the side of the tank and plopped into the water.

  She staggered backward into the railing, stunned by the rush of emotion swamping her brain. She was—

  Standing by the windows in Lanaril’s study, looking at Salomen with joy in her heart and tears in her eyes. In a handful of words, Salomen had removed the threat of prison and offered her greatest dreams instead, with no thought of repayment. She was friend, savior, Bondlancer, and the vessel of Fahla all rolled into one, and Rahel had no words to express her gratitude.

  “If you knew how much I want to give you a warmron right now,” she said.

  She came back to herself with Lhyn holding her arm and looking worried.

  “You nearly went over the railing. What the Hades happened?”

  “Oh, Fahla. I can’t describe that. Joy, desperate relief, elation, gratitude...” She offered a tremulous smile. “We did the right thing.”

  The Resilere, which had been exploring the confines of its tank, now sank to the bottom and spread out. Its arms reached into every corner and its body pulsed, swelling and shrinking with a regularity that made Rahel think of a heartbeat. Blue and green bioluminescence danced over its skin.

  “What was the memory?” Lhyn asked.

  Why did they all have to be so damned personal?

  “It was the day Salomen told me I wasn’t—being punished.” She had almost said going to prison but stopped herself in time. “And that she had arranged for me to come here, to be Alsea’s first space explorer. I went from thinking my life was going straight down the toilet hole to thinking no one on Alsea could be as lucky as me. I didn’t know how to tell her how much that meant to me.”

  She would not speak of Salomen’s acceptance of the warmron on this public record. It was one thing to flout the taboo herself; she had never feared the social consequences. Revealing that Alsea’s Bondlancer had also broken that taboo had a whole different level of consequences. But she didn’t think it was a coincidence that the memory had included her offer.

  “My stars, look at it. I can’t speak its light language, but even I can see it’s happy.”

  “Well done,” Captain Serrado said. “If this is a negotiation, we’ve surely proved we’re here in good faith.”

  A surge of determination and hope hit Rahel’s senses at the same time that the Resilere exploded up and out of the water. It rippled down the side of the tank and back to the wall, its movements noticeably smoother than before.

  “It’s leaving?” Lhyn was wide-eyed.

  “I don’t think so.” Rahel watched it flow up the wall. “I think it—shekking Mother!”

  The Resilere had gone straight up to the joint between the wall and the landing above and was now tugging at a second one that neither of them had noticed. It had blended in perfectly with the shadows and the joint.

  And it wasn’t moving.

  The first Resilere tugged harder, and with a crackling, ripping sound, they both fell to the floor.

  “Ouch,” Lhyn whispered.

  The second Resilere seemed to be in a solid state, frozen in the shape of the crease it had tucked itself into. There was a right angle to its body, and the first was having a difficult time moving it.

  She knelt on the foaming boards of Dock One, a breath away from drowning as a storm-lashed wave rose and crashed over her. With all her strength she clung to the boards, refusing to die, and the water drained away.

  A fish was left behind, flopping desperately on the hard wood.

  Rahel was moving before the last wisps of memory faded. In three steps she reached the struggling Resilere.

  “Rahel—”

  “It asked for help.” She scooped up the frozen Resilere, which was surprisingly heavy and bore no resemblance in texture to the first. This wasn’t sand under a sheet, it was sand packed into a shape and left to dry.

  The first Resilere kept pace with her as she turned for the tank, then raced ahead and rippled up its side. It waited atop the edge, half its arms in the water and half out, until Rahel reached the tank and plunged her precious burden beneath the surface. The water soaked her uniform jacket all the way to the shoulders.

  The first Resilere dove to the bottom of the tank and began gently tapping its arms on the second. Rahel let go and withdrew, dripping water.

  “There goes my professional objectivity,” Lhyn said. “I’m about ready to cry. Do you think it’ll be all right?”

  “I know the first one hasn’t given up hope.” Rahel stripped off her jacket and laid it over the railing. “And I know why it refused to move.”

  “Shippers, you’re right. Of course! That’s what it was doing all along, protecting its . . . friend? Mate?”

  She shrugged. “I hope we find out.”

  “I do, too,” Captain Serrado said.

  “I think that holds for all of us. Even Commander Cox.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Wells,” Cox said. “Though I firmly deny any moisture in my eyes.”

  “How did you know it asked for help?”

  Rahel didn’t look away from the two Resilere as she described the memory of the fish on Dock One.

  “You saved the fish,” Lhyn said when she was done. “Let’s take that as a good omen.”

  “Lhyn, can you pull your cam and set it up near the tank?” Captain Serrado asked.

  “Sure thing.” Lhyn trotted over to retrieve her cam from the wall. She radiated urgency as she reattached it to the cart, moving swiftly to keep from losing any visual record of what was happening in the tank.

  As it turned out, she could have taken her time. For ten long minutes Rahel saw no change in the frozen Resilere, nor did she sense a second emotional presence. The first never ceased its stroking and never lost hope. Then, for no reason
that she could discern, it erupted into a flashing pattern of bioluminescence. The greenish lights chased each other around its body and then turned blue. Those lights followed the same pattern, but when it was completed, the next pattern was not green again but a new color: red.

  One of the frozen arms of the second Resilere twitched at its very tip.

  “We’re seeing signs of recovery,” Lhyn said for the benefit of the record. “A small amount of movement at the tip of one arm, but that’s more than we saw before. And the first Resilere is putting on one Hades of a light show. It’s just added red to the repertoire.”

  Within a minute, all ten arm tips of the frozen Resilere were twitching. Gradually it continued to soften, the arms flexing along more of their length, until the sharp corner on its body abruptly fluffed into a more natural, rounded shape.

  “I still can’t sense it,” Rahel said. “The body is recovering, but the emotional presence isn’t there yet.”

  “Like coming out of a coma,” Dr. Wells said. “The mind often lags behind the body, especially after significant physical trauma. I’d guess losing so much water that you solidify would count.”

  Rahel had to remind herself that Dr. Wells wasn’t talking to her. She was simply putting her thoughts on the record.

  Every five minutes, Lhyn made another verbal notation on the status of both Resilere. Shortly after the fifth update, Rahel felt a new emotional presence nibbling at the edges of her senses.

  “It’s regaining consciousness,” she said.

  The first Resilere sped up its light show to a dizzying pace.

  Two minutes later, the second Resilere lifted itself up and began touching the first. Rahel smiled as she soaked in its amazement and joyful surprise.

  “It didn’t think it would live,” she said. “It’s startled to find itself still alive. Startled and happy.”

  The first wrapped itself entirely around the second, and Rahel—

  Was wrapped in a warmron with Salomen, an unbelievable gift on top of all the others. “Thank you,” she said into Salomen’s shoulder. “For being my friend, for giving me my dreams . . . for being you.”

  She blinked away the moisture in her eyes, then crouched down and pressed her palm against the side of the tank.