Second Contact

by Guerric Haché, Keezy Young

  And yet they knew - she knew - this was going to happen. “I know, Kseresh, I know. Let me think of something.”

  She clicked the comm off, her pulse racing. The days had melted away from her, and she had barely noticed. Curing the technophage, learning ancient code, plumbing the golem’s memories. And yet now a colonial ship was preparing to send a shuttle down, the human army was closing in, and reality was about to punch her in the face.

  Ada took a deep breath. She needed to punch back. Luckily, she had big fists.

  “Hey, Chengdu , can you fly? I want to put you between Campus and that army. Please tell me you can fly.”

  “ Wǒ tīng bù dǒng. ”

  “Of course not, but you can fucking crawl, I know that much. So let’s crawl.”

  She directed the ship back towards the shore, forcing it up onto the beach. It shuddered and heaved as it usually did, but Ada assumed that was just the transition.

  It didn’t stop, though. The ship continued shaking and groaning, and if the map was anything to go by it was practically sitting still. Ada stepped out of the command room and climbed towards the roof. What was going on?

  She staggered onto the roof of the ship, feeling as though she were in the middle of an earthquake, and she found the scenery… barely moving at all, besides the shaking. She leaned around the back of the Chengdu , looking at the beach, and saw that the ship was moving - very slowly - and churning up masses of dirt, sand, and rocks in its wake.

  “So you can crawl, you’re just slow as hell. Fantastic.”

  She lurched back into the ship, closed the door behind her, staggered her way back to the command center. She looked around, as though the answer might be written on the walls somewhere. What the hell was she supposed to do?

  She kicked one of the control consoles. “You piece of junk!”

  The ship warbled something incomprehensible, though it didn’t sound offended or otherwise emotional. Ada slid down into the ground, hands on her head, and groaned. Cherry. That damned starship, the intelligible banter, the visceral and gut-wrenching sensations of flying and fighting - it had felt so alive . The Chengdu was a brick in comparison. Powerful though it might be, whoever had made it hadn’t thought to make it fly. Why the hell not? Who in their right mind wouldn’t want to fly?

  She slammed her palm against the floor, feeling the cool material under her skin. She turned to look at it, and suddenly it hit her, and she laughed. She stood up, stretched her hands to the ceiling, rolled her shoulders, and shouted at the ship.

  “All right, Chengdu , you want to fly? Let’s fly.”

  The ship did not respond with any enthusiasm, but it stopped moving at her command. Ada stepped out onto the roof again, slid down to solid ground, and started looking around. The warship was resting on dirt and rocks, and it was common wisdom that you couldn’t code onto non-solid surfaces like those. For once, common wisdom was correct - it wasn’t technically possible. Ada had been in such situations before, not least in the Institute’s supposedly famed sandbox. She knew the way around that problem, but the very thought of trying that approach on this scale made her queasy.

  Luckily, with her powers greater than they had ever been, she had a much better idea.

  She thought at the Chengdu and the warship moved, crawling back into the sea, chewing up the shoreline as it did, sputtering and shaking. She followed it, climbing into its maw, through the ship, and back onto the roof. The ancient warship floated in the salty water, little waves lapping against its sides. She slowed time, called up a multitude of camera and screen sigils, and set to work fixing the Chengdu ’s primary design oversight.

  Her code plunged into the water, and though it wavered in the ocean like seaweed, it held fast. Good.

  She could do this. In a sense, she had already done this before.

  After what felt like hours working in the dim, murky water of the ship’s shadow, she finished etching code into the oddly-textured underside. She connected it all to the power core, slipped out of time dilation, and returned inside. The map hovering in front of her in her mind’s eye, she moved the ship back towards the beach and its woefully inadequate dock. Soon, she would be able to test it out.

  She pulled out the locator stone and held it in the middle of the map. It wasn’t pointing towards the glowing blotch of the army. It was pointing… south-west? She frowned. What was Isavel doing south-west of Campus? There was barely any land there, all of it fairly close.

  Just how close was she?

  Chapter 14

  Timing sleep was important. Everyone got onto the same two-day sleep cycle fairly quickly, but planning when to sleep for the final time before approaching Campus was more difficult since they didn’t know exactly where they were, and since their view of reality was blinded by the walk. They had to stop frequently to step out of the thousand worlds and get their bearings, just in case something changed or somebody was approaching, and this, combined with the winding gravel paths, slowed their progress more than Isavel would have liked.

  Each time they stepped back into reality, she tried guessing where they were from the amount of seabirds they were seeing. It wasn’t very effective. It wasn’t until a they reached the top of a hill, along the worn scar of a road zigzagging along the eastern shore, that Isavel’s illusions finally caught up with her and collapsed under the morning sun.

  The army was here. Closing in on the city. For all that Isavel and the others had tried to take a straight path rather than skirt the coast, and for all the otherworldly machine they had driven in had saved them time, the army wasn’t far behind.

  Hail said what Isavel was thinking. “How the hell did they get this far so quickly?”

  Ren was peering into the distance as well. “My guess is they ran horses and haulers back and forth to boost people along. Maybe they brought some boats along the shoreline, too, but I can’t tell.”

  Isavel peered towards the water, her hunter’s eyes seeing more clearly, and she did indeed see at least a few boats. Damn them. They had almost completely thrown caution to the wind in getting here this quickly. It was as though they knew Ada wasn’t actually interested in attacking them - knowledge completely incongruous with the threat they perceived from her. It made no sense.

  She exchanged glances with Hail, and tapped Erran on the shoulder. “That vehicle is too loud, and we could be mistaken for the enemy. Let’s go the rest of the way on foot.”

  Erran glanced at the army, backing away down the hill. “Do we actually have time for that?”

  Isavel sighed, looking south-east and seeing little in the way of civilization. “We must be at least a day out from Campus. If they’re slowing and stopping here, they must be preparing to rest. We have a day, at least. More if they’ve agreed to wait, more still if we can convince them to field test these weapons first.”

  “You think Dendre will hold them back?”

  Isavel thought he would try, but given the speed with which they had crossed this distance, she wasn’t comfortable committing to that belief. “I think we need to hurry. It’ll be easier to convince them when we have something on hand. We’re close, right Erran?”

  Erran nodded, his eyes shifting back and forth. “I think it might be less than a day, really. We could get the tanks to the army by nightfall, since they’d carry us back.”

  Isavel towards Campus in the distance; though her locator stone told her the way, she couldn’t see it. “I’m sure they’ll want to rest a night before the final push. You’ll disappear once we get the tanks, I imagine?”

  He seemed caught off-guard for a moment before recovering. “Hell yes. As far as I can.”

  Hail raised an eyebrow at him as they set off down the hill. “How far can a walker run?”

  “Mars?” A glint in his eye told Isavel he wasn’t serious, but still, the word sounded oddly familiar. Like something out of a story.

  “What? Where’s that?”

  He winced. “I’m not sure. Somebody told me it was w
here walkers should go when they’re… done.”

  “Done with what?” He looked guilty, and Isavel narrowed her eyes. “Who told you this?”

  His face blank, he gestured at himself. For a second Isavel didn’t understand what he meant. Then she did, and ice crept through her insides as she remembered what he was. “ He… told you?”

  Erran shook his head. “He said one day someone would hunt me, too. He said he should have gone to Mars when he had the chance. I don’t know what he meant, but I’m starting to think he wasn’t just having a breakdown.”

  “I see. Mars.” Whatever Erran’s victim had told him, the word tasted old. Dusty. Red. Where had she heard it before? She set her jaw. “Well, wherever you go, don’t go before we get those weapons.”

  She turned to the coders, who were walking on Erran’s other side, keeping him in the middle. Zoa didn’t look at her, but Ren was looking up at the morning sky.

  Isavel cleared her throat. “Hey, you two. What happens to these relics if they survive the battle?”

  Ren smiled at her. “We take them back to the Institute, I hope. That’s usually what happens, though with weapons I’ve heard people can get more… possessive.”

  “ If they survive the battle.” Zoa glanced at her brother. “That’s the key thing. Isavel, you don’t want to send someone to update Mother Jera and the others?”

  Isavel shook her head. “Not worth the time, and returning with the weapons right away does a better job at proving the detour was worth it. Besides, I’ll need help piloting the things back.”

  “Right.” Zoa pulled her blue hair up behind her head, binding it with a turquoise band, looking onward with a sense of resignation. It occurred to Isavel that the coders had never exactly volunteered for the full measure of what they had gotten themselves into, and while Ren didn’t seem to mind, Zoa seemed to be increasingly on edge and bitter. Isavel would have to apologize to her later.

  She looked to Hail, who since the encounter with their human attackers had seemed increasingly determined and focused. Good. She needed to know someone was with her all the way, when everything else seemed to be drawing to a close.

  Erran traced a path between hills and lakes to a rocky shore to the south. They followed the smell of salt, skirting beaches lined with algae and barnacles growing across vaguely rectangular rocks. A few of the old world’s metal and concrete bones lay exposed where its skin had sloughed off, but even much of those had been rotted away by time. The ground around them was the crumbled flesh of the ancient world, more visibly so here than in the deep woods.

  She took a few steps to catch up to the ghost walker, nodding to the nearest sea-worn ruins. “Erran, do you know what the world was like before?”

  He glanced at her wearily. “There are too many worlds, Isavel. Some of them might be replicas - huge cities, thousands of people everywhere. But I don’t know which ones are real and which are just… fantasy. They can’t all be true. Maybe none of them are. And the spirits all think their world is real, so they’re no help. I don’t know. ”

  Isavel’s eyes slid over the tips of ruins slowly swallowed by the world, and wondered what memories they were trampling on. The locator stone seemed to press against her in its pocket. Ada would know something, surely - she might know more than anyone about that subject. She tried to imagine people in the ruins they passed, picturing them staring out into the sea, wind in their hair.

  After hours of walking, an ancient ruin less derelict than the rest loomed ahead of them, bursting from the tip of a craggy beach. Blocky grey buildings seemingly unburdened by the weight of centuries dominated a small peninsula, and great piers jutted out into the water. Little blue glows flickered against the stone here and there, dozens of them. Watchers, tending the structures and keeping them whole.

  It looked strangely alien to her. “Erran, what was this place?”

  He shook his head. “All I know is they stored weapons and warships here. I don’t know who, or why, or even when, really.”

  “If you’ve been here before, why didn’t you take the tanks already?” She paused. “No, wait, don’t tell me. You haven’t actually been here before.”

  He laughed. “I’ve seen here before, but I didn’t go in. The watchers kill trespassers.”

  Isavel looked over at Hail, and saw her own worry reflected back at her. “Wait, you expect us to fight watchers? ”

  “They’re not indestructible. Gods, you’re the Dragoneater! Are you scared of watchers?”

  She bit her lip. “Dragons are just beasts. Watchers are servants of the gods.”

  “Are they?”

  “Of course they are.” And if she wanted the gods to finally explain themselves to her, she needed to stay on their good side. “What are you talking about?”

  He shrugged. “ They farm and they mend ruins. Seem a bit banal to be divine. ”

  Isavel had thought the same of herself more than once. “Their duties come from the gods. That’s what matters.”

  Erran shrugged, as though nothing really did matter. He seemed skittish, eager to get this over with and flee. Eager to return to the waiting arms of his spirit Tevoria, no doubt; Isavel wondered if she was following them, somehow, in her own world. The idea of the pointy-eared woman baring her teeth at Isavel’s face unsettled her, and she turned away.

  She focused on the ruin instead. She had seen what watchers could do in combat, and she was not looking forward to being on the receiving end of their rage. It would be best if she could distract them, or slip past them. Unfortunately, a great, solid concrete wall barred passage onto the ruins and their peninsula. Erran laid a hand on it and turned around as the rest of the group caught up.

  “The tanks are in here. So are the local watchers, too, and they won’t like seeing our faces.”

  “Watchers?” Ren looked nervous. “Can we actually fight watchers?”

  Zoa shook her head. “No way. We need a better plan.”

  Isavel glanced at the sea. “Can we swim through the water? Get into the compound by going around the wall, somehow?”

  Hail looked skeptical. “If they shoot at you while you’re swimming, getting away will be even harder. Unless you have the swimmer’s gift and haven’t told us. Isavel, you’re from the mountains - do you even know how to swim?”

  Isavel’s ears warmed. “Of course! I’ve swam before.”

  “But can you swim fast? In deep water?”

  She didn’t answer. She wasn’t sure - she’d never been anywhere too deep to touch the bottom.

  “Once the ghosts in Campus see the army approaching, they might come here themselves.” Erran pointed east. “Do you think Ada will have qualms about blasting every last watcher to get the weapons for herself? From what I’ve heard, she’s not the kind to hesitate.”

  The party looked at each other uneasily. Isavel privately doubted Ada would do any such thing - not because Ada struck Isavel as even remotely pious or cautious, but because she felt Ada must have a better idea than pilfering ruins. She was too resourceful to depend on leftovers, and she knew the stakes. She was probably evacuating her people right now. She had to be.

  Isavel looked at the great wall. She could climb it, though it would be better for Erran to walk them through. Then they would have to face dozens of watchers, and that was not something she liked the thought of.

  “I’ve seen watchers in combat.” She remembered the searing blue light all too well, and turned to her party. “They’ll go for the people who actually attack them first. If you can distract them...”

  She trailed off, looking at her party again. Here she was, using people as distractions. It had happened when she was attacked by dragons, weeks ago on the mainland, and it was happening again.

  She took a deep breath. As a leader, this was what she was supposed to do, wasn’t it? Make difficult decisions, unkind decisions, but ones that would lead to the best outcomes. Be wrong sometimes, and accept the responsibility and the anger that came with that, rather
than leaving people flailing around for someone to blame. To lead people, not coddle them. Was that what the gods had meant by leadership?

  She might as well try - there was a veil rapidly approaching her, blotting out her horizons and leaving her uncertain of what would come more than a few days into her future. She set her shoulders. “Hail, I need you to distract them, draw their attention. Zoa and Ren, can you do something to reinforce cover?”

  Ren nodded. “If we team up and have some time, we can set up a big reinforcement sigil.”

  Zoa’s eyes widened. “This is crazy, we can’t -”

  “Don’t put yourself in any more danger than necessary.” She glanced at Hail. “Run away if you have to, understand?”

  Hail nodded, glancing to a higher point in the seaside hills. “There’s a ruin there with a good vantage point - you two can code something there.”

  Zoa was wringing her arms. “Ren, we should set a trap in case the watchers leave their territory and come up for us. Something to throw them off.”

  Ren nodded. “I’ve got an idea.”

  Zoa looked uncertain, so Isavel clasped the siblings by the shoulders. “Then start now. You’ll need that cover. I’ll give you time, and when Hail gives me a signal I’ll sneak through with Erran. If you can keep the watchers distracted, we might be able to run through.”

  “And if we can’t?” Zoa was looking nervously at the ancient compound.

  “I’ll destroy them.” Isavel wasn’t sure she could, but she would certainly try if they were bent on killing her. “The gods want me to protect humans, not watchers.”

  “And if you can’t?”

  She didn’t like to think about it. Maybe she would jump into the sea and hope she had somehow acquired the swimmer’s gift. “The gods will do with me what they will, as they always have.”

  Hail nodded, for once not insisting on following her. Wordlessly, the three of them climbed up the hill towards the ruins, old stone walls laced with cracks of seaside weeds.