Bobbi collected herself with a deep breath and spoke. “It’s all right,” she said, looking between her comrades. “It’s all right. Scalli, did they just leave? Is that what happened?”
Scalli stared at her for a moment, as if he did not quite understand the kind of reaction he was getting from her. “Ah, yeah,” he said. “They left, and I climbed up into the place. Gave it a few minutes and limped back through to where you found me.”
Did he expect for her to burst into tears? Probably. She might have a few weeks ago. But not now. Nausea and internalized emotional crisis was as far as she was going to get at the moment, especially when she might be able to get to him. “Thank you for telling me that, Scalli,” Bobbi said, and she ran both hands through her new hair. She was silent for a few seconds, staring at the black mirror of the deactivated telescreen as if perhaps it could scry out the future. But she knew what the future would be. It would be blood, and it would be death, and it would be a parade of alien horrors. It would be a wracking of sanity and a test of everything that she had ever considered human about herself, as stunted as the world had made it. It would be sacrifice that none of them could yet imagine.
“Bobbi?” Violet’s voice was soft. “Are you all right?”
Was she? No. Most assuredly not. But it would have to be dealt with. “Yeah,” she said, and gave Violet a thin smile. “I’m just thinking why they would keep him on hand, that’s all. If he’s not up and running around with them, he may not be fully possessed by the thing inside his head – and if that’s the case, then I’m wondering why the hell they’d keep him alive. In any case, we can’t worry about that right now. We need to get things started.” Bobbi pulled away from Violet’s hand and got to the edge of the bed. “Cagliostro is pondering things, but he’s given us our foundation. Scalli, we’re going to need a new place. Resources. I’ve got the money, but it’s you who knows people.”
Scalli stood up. “All right,” he said, still unsure. “I can do that.”
“And you, Violet.” Bobbi slid off the edge of the bed and stood, looking across it at her unlikely lieutenant. “I’m going to need you, too. Still feel like influencing people?”
Violet blinked at her. “I can’t use those systems anymore,” she said. “I don’t know how.”
“Then we’ll have to find out how to remind you.” Bobbi looked between the two of them, feeling a sense of enormity upon her shoulders – but also a sense of righteousness, and a white blaze of fury had begun to kindle in her gut. “Redeye said that it could be done.”
Violet looked as if she were about to say something, but thought better of it. She nodded instead.
“Then that’s it,” Bobbi said, and she got to her feet. “If you two will let me change, we’ll get out of here and hit the proverbial road. Lot of work ahead of us, and we can’t fuck around. They certainly aren’t. We’ll be lucky if there’s a network left for me to hit, the way things are going.”
“Of course,” Violet said with a look of hard intent washing over her face, and marched out of the room. Scalli began to slouch that way as well, but Bobbi stopped him.
“Wait,” she said, and when he did she took a seat on the edge of her bed, feeling tiny and swallowed up in her borrowed scrubs. “I wanted to ask. Are you okay?”
Scalli’s brows climbed up his forehead. “You’re asking if I’m okay? I’m not the one who’s been in the coma. Or who has a new body, come to that.”
Bobbi made a face at him. “Well, yeah,” she said. “But I mean, I understand why you did that. Only face they haven’t seen yet, right?”
“Or likely to ever have seen,” he replied with a nod. “It seemed the best way to go.”
“And you did right,” she said. “But seriously, I mean…” Her words died in her throat. “Just, are you are all right? I mean you don’t have your suit, or anything. Seems like we’re both starting over.”
Scalli gave her a pointed look. “You mean I’m starting over,” he said, and she cringed slightly. “No, it’s all right. I’ve had a couple weeks to figure out that I had been relying entirely too much on that thing. We’ve got the resources for me to gear up pretty good, make use of the nerve-connections I got, but I don’t know that I’m going to miss it.” He shrugged. “Besides, it’ll be nice to live in the world in my own skin.” Scalli glanced past her at the wall, or perhaps something further behind her. Behind them. “Don’t worry, baby girl. I’ll be all right in time. With everything.”
She nodded. Looking at him, she felt it would be all right, at least between the two of them. Perhaps Tom popping up again would be the best thing for them, after all, but she couldn’t think about him. Not now. Not yet. There was too much to do, too much to build, and she felt that there would be a long string of targets between now and the time that she found the man whose coat she slid over her shoulders after Scalli had left and she had gotten changed. The mantle of purpose settled upon her anew, and she felt herself expanding to fit it more comfortably. There was no choice to do otherwise.
Once, all that she had left of Tom and all that they had been through was a bloody coat. Now she had purpose, a cause, and friends with which to further it. Maybe she could save him, or maybe not. Right now, that didn’t matter; what mattered now is that they would have to somehow carry the fight to the Yathi. Their numbers were fixed, and if Redeye was at all correct, then snuffing them out was a goal that could be reached. Despite the staggering odds of the future she now faced, she felt as she smoothed out her hair and used the tiny cosmetic airbrush in her bag to draw a bar of red across her eyes that whatever they could do – however deeply they could strike at that monstrous, alien brood – would not be a blow made in vain.
“Well, Bobbi girl,” Bobbi said as she stared into the mirror, watching her green eyes gleam and dance from the narrow strip of crimson that now framed them, “here we go.”
The city sprawled below and away, filling the horizon far beneath the tower. The commercial blocks of The Waters shone not far away, and beyond that the massive office towers were strung with ribbons of light. Below the mortal, human throng flowed through streets, the lifeblood of a city filled with a neon fire.
She had kindled that fire herself, engineered the pyre in which the human race would burn. She, the Mother of Systems, the pale wrath of a dying race. Dying for now…but not forever. Above the lights, her white face, her pale hair, the gleaming of her silver eyes – these hovered, superimposed over the image of the city like that of a malevolent goddess. Which she supposed she was.
“Mother.” A voice came from the edge of the room, the melodious barbs of the home tongue. She would have none of the machine-telepathy that her fellow colonists used; everyone who addressed her in her presence did so by speech. She looked, and saw Yel’nhk’ghal, as slender and pretty in his human body as he had been in the fullness of his life at home.
She smiled at him. “Is it here, then?”
Yel’nhk’ghal nodded. “Yes, Mother,” he replied, keeping his head very slightly bowed. He was always very polite, but not entirely obsequious. She liked that about him. “Shall I bring it to see you?”
“It would please me for you to do so.” She adopted the more formal octave-forms of the language, which he responded to very well – bowing deeply and backing out of the room. She chastised herself a bit for it, but it was sometimes necessary. The destruction of the native bodies had shaken those within the colonial operational authority, her own personal circle. They did not understand why she did not share their anxiety, but they would soon enough.
The human meat entered quietly, its head bowed. They were always awed in her presence, like cattle should be. She smiled at it; it looked at her nervously, shifting in its place as it stood there in her office. She allowed it to look at her, reveling in its fear. After a few moments, when she was certain that it was uncomfortable enough, she spoke to it in its own monkey tongue.
“I am told,” she said, watching its reflection in the window, “that yo
u were successful in your mission. They believe that you are dead.”
“Yes,” the meat began – and then caught itself. “Yes, ma’am. I made certain of that.”
“Mmm.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I would say that I am proud, but I would not wish to waste the sentiment. I dare say it was easily enough done considering the chaos involved.”
The meat stiffened slightly at that. “They’re sharper than you think,” it said. “I wouldn’t underestimate them. Especially with some of yours on their side.”
The Mother of Systems paused. She looked over her shoulder at it, and delighted as it froze. “I have read your report. I doubt they believe you alive, and you are in error if you believe that either of those entities which work with Roberta January are ‘mine’. Indeed, they aren’t much of anything anymore. Shadows, and insane ones at that.”
“They’ve managed to fuck things up pretty good for you, though, haven’t they?”
Uncomfortable though it was, the meat was impertinent. Mother felt the urge to spread her second mandibles in a dominance display, but not having any in this body had to settle instead on smiling – the collective of human meat was always smiling. It never seemed to understand that showing teeth in real society meant that being eaten alive was soon to follow. She had killed and eaten enough of them to know that. “If you are referring to the events of the past few months,” she replied, “they are of no lasting consequence. We have been here for centuries; a few losses will do nothing to upset our advance.”
“I suppose you’re right at that,” the meat said. “But if that’s the case, why not just kill them? I could have done that and made everything easy for you.”
Mother sighed. These creatures and their lack of foresight – even compressed as she was into the limited brain of her own body, she had vision far beyond the human meat. “Do not concern yourself with such matters,” she told it. “I have other tasks for you.”
It shifted again, and she found delight in the nervousness that she saw crawling beneath its brave facade. “Yes, ma’am?”
“I am dispatching you to Germany,” she said, finding amusement as it flinched. “And then to Great Siam. There is work that needs to be done in both nations laying the foundation for the future. You will be assisting my children there.”
The meat looked at her curiously. “Yes, ma’am,” it said. “But what about January? Surely you want me to kill ‘em off?”
“No,” replied the Mother. “They have gone underground for the moment – and in any respect I imagine that they wouldn’t look the same when they surfaced. No, I have other plans for them. But worry not, in time you will be dispatched to reunite with your wayward fellows. Undoubtedly they will be pleased to see you. Humans have a certain blindness in their connections with those with whom they have served, so to speak. You will be no different.”
There was silence for a time; the meat stood there, watching her, formulating a response. It hated her, she knew that. It hated that she rarely looked at it, and that she knew its place which was beneath even the drones. After all, it wasn’t rebellious, and it wasn’t ignorant of the truth – it served her even knowing the truth, which to her was contemptuous beyond all reasoning. Cowards were always eaten first, and some day, when she grew tired of it, she would eat this meat as well. Finally it spoke, breaking her private little reverie of carnage. “I understand,” it said, and cleared its throat. “Well, with your leave…”
“Yes.” And that was it. She watched the meat turn and go, knowing that Yel’nhk’ghal would give it the proper orders. Presently the slender beauty returned, and she turned to meet him.
“Mother,” Yel’nhk’ghal said, bowing his head again with his hands clasped behind his back. “I will see to it that the meat is sent on its way. Do you require anything else of me?”
“They are very traitorous, are they not?” The Mother of Systems moved to sit on the great black leather sofa that overlooked the city view. “They delight in bowing to whatever force threatens to step on their necks.”
Yel’nhk’ghal nodded. “Yes, Mother,” he said. “Though perhaps not all.”
“Indeed.” The Mother gestured for him to join her. He did, moving uncomfortably in his suit; she could not blame him. Yel’nhk’ghal had yet to replace his human flesh, though the bleaching colonies had done their work and his eyes were the beautiful silver of his birth. Living with such soft, ridiculous skin where he had been wrapped in the unyielding shell of his birth was absolutely maddening. “But this is to our advantage. After all, if we had not allowed the traitor to try and slip his betters, how would we have found an alternative to these ludicrous forms?”
Yel’nhk’ghal watched her face for a moment. “Then you intend to allow things to proceed,” he asked, “knowing what they will try to do to our people?”
Such naivete charmed her; she reached out, stroking the bridge of his nose with the back of her hand. The unrelenting coolness of her skin seemed to settle him. “Yel’nhk’ghal,” she murmured, “I know that you do not understand what I am doing. I know that the colonial authority is similarly concerned.”
“It is just…” His eyes lowered, closing to the point that only a millimeter of silver could be seen. “We are so few now. It seems unwise to allow our people to be put into harm’s way, even if they are not the best of us.”
She nodded. “Indeed,” she replied. “It must seem that way to you, I understand. But nothing else will work; the human vessels will eventually fragment over half of the transfers, and though we’ve managed to grow our own bodies, they won’t accept a new consciousness for reasons we have yet to unravel. We must find an alternative, or we will die. Those of us stored in the matrix cannot last forever.”
It was with a troubled expression that Yel’nhk’ghal nodded. “I understand,” he murmured. “But Mother, is this really the solution? Giving up our bodies entirely in place of…something else?”
The Mother of Systems took his hands in hers; she wished she had more, her second pair of forelimbs with which to stroke his head and calm him down. How she hated not having a proper body! She was the first, and she had come to terms with the limited shell in which her mind now dwelt – but to the young, ah, the loss of the native bodies had landed a psychological wound. She was mother to them all, and they looked to her as if she had bore them herself, and after three hundred years she in truth saw them all as her own. “Dear child,” she said with a sigh, “I understand. These bodies are insult enough, and to move on to something so different as what has been proposed…” She shook her head. “But the alternative is dissolution, and the death of our race. We have sacrificed too much to balk at moving forward now.”
Yel’nhk’ghal was quiet; he leaned forward a bit, drawing comfort from her contact. “I understand,” he murmured. “I know that you will not see us destroyed. Hard choices must be made.”
“As every colonist has learned, wherever they arrive,” said the Mother with warmth that she would never show the meat. “We must allow this to reach its state of ultimate fruition, so that we can harvest the results for ourselves. The humans will do as their animal instincts dictate – it is the thing which has been born from our errant brother that we must watch.”
It was that which made him draw back from her. “I understand that, of course,” he replied. “But what about the other one?”
“Ah.” She smiled, and seeing his reaction realized what she was doing. “I’m sorry, my dear. Even I forget what I ride around in from time to time – no, we must ensure that he comes back to us. After all…” A wave of something strange hit her, something dark and sad. She wasn’t used to feeling such things at all anymore.
“I understand, Mother.” Yel’nhk’ghal inclined his head in a warmer sort of deference. “I will see to it that he survives. We must allow that to cultivate and flower as well.”
“Indeed. Make sure that the traitor-meat does not fail in its mission.” She reached up and laid her palms against his temples in a ma
tronly gesture before letting her hands drop into her lap. “I think that’s enough silliness from me. You’ll see to it that your comrades at the authority understand the necessity of what is happening?”
“Of course.” Yel’nhk’ghal withdrew and rose to his feet. “Good evening, Mother. I will report to you tomorrow.”
“Good evening.” The Mother watched as he left, and only when the door closed behind him did she allow herself to relax; she stared out at the city, wishing for all the world that she had a real body with which to lounge. She knew that even as she lay there, the shell of the woman she had inhabited for three centuries could not last forever, even with her indomitable will driving it on. There was so little time left; fifty years after the death of her world, something would have to change. Something would have to progress. If not, well, that would be that, and the hairless apes would get to keep their world. But she wouldn’t allow that.
Staring out across the traitorous stars, the Mother of Systems beheld her fragile kingdom and swore, in that instant, that it would be all or nothing. She would burn the planet down around her, leave it a smoking cinder, before she would allow her children to die. Before she would cede victory to the human race.
Morality demanded no less.
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Redeye (The Wonderland Cycle Book 2) Page 47
