*We fought for the hive,* Thunder said.
*As did we all.* He lowered the knife, putting it deliberately away without taking his gaze from Bonesnap’s face. *Beg Seeker’s pardon.*
*I won’t require it,* Seeker said. His face was smeared with ichor and ash, and he looked desperately tired.
Guide ignored that. *He is the Queen’s pallax,* he said. *You will treat him with due respect.*
Bonesnap looked for one moment as if he were about to question the judgment of a queen who chose clevermen as favorites among her zenana, and then as if he thought better of it. *I beg your pardon,* he said, bending his head without grace.
*Granted,* Seeker said, with a smile that bared teeth.
*He’s grieving,* Thunder said in more appeasing tones.
*Grieve when the work is done,* Guide said, and herded them over to help mend the hive wall.
When the tear was spliced well enough that Seeker judged it would hold, and the blades and Bramble had departed for other duties, or at least to shirk somewhere not under Guide’s eye, he retreated for a moment into the darkness of the gaming room. Seeker was there already, turning one of the scattered game pieces around in his fingers.
*I see why neither of those two will be Consort,* Seeker said.
The hive had no permanent officers, a source of tension at the best of times. Young queens like Snow attracted young and disaffected men from dozens of other hives, all competing for her favor. In the years since he and Seeker came to the hive as young men themselves, with nothing but ferocity and their wits to recommend them, Guide had maneuvered his way to something like leadership of the hive’s blades. It was no easy task to lead men born to different lineages with old rivalries between them, but he succeeded better than any other could. He was the queen’s acknowledged pallax, one of her especial favorites among her zenana.
And still not Consort. Nor, at this rate, was he ever likely to be.
*I don’t worry about that, no,* he said. *Although Bonesnap’s not usually so erratic.*
*All the same, it was stupid.*
*Yes.*
*You didn’t have to interfere,* Seeker said.
*Would you have preferred me to let you stab each other?*
*Maybe,* Seeker said. He tightened his fist around the gaming piece, claws digging into his hand. *I might like to stab something, at this point.*
*Do you expect me to beg your pardon?*
*Would you?* Seeker said.
*No,* Guide said. He leaned back against the wall in the darkness and let himself sag under the weight of his own exhaustion. *How many dead?*
*Twenty-one men. Twelve were pilots lost with their darts. We lost seven in the section that decompressed. Of the other wounded, I think all have died who are going to die. Wreath will be a long time healing. I’ve put him into hibernation. Flicker may not recover vision in his left eye. I had to excise too much of the nerve for it to fully regrow.*
*Then I can’t put him back in a dart.*
*I expect not,* Seeker said. His voice was flat. *I don’t have a good count of the drones. We may have lost as many as half when that section decompressed. Seldom-Seen will be able to give you a precise count. He’s… not happy.*
Furious was likely to be closer to the truth. The Hivemaster Seldom-Seen took a special interest in the drones; Guide had to admit he could rarely tell one from another, but to the Hivemaster they were somewhere between pets and brothers. They were his blood kin, after all, born of his mother’s flesh and the hive’s, however unintelligent they might be.
Let the Hivemaster mourn them; Guide was busy calculating the extent of this disaster. They were left with enough men and drones to man the hive, once it was repaired enough that they could risk venturing back into territory crawling with Asurans. One more such battle, and he doubted that would be the case. And the dart wings were at half strength, a third of their strength in better times; there was a limit to how much he could rely on them to shield the hive, however willingly he spent the lives of his men.
One more such battle, one encounter with a stronger hive whose queen saw them as weak for the taking, one mistake, one piece of pure bad luck, and it would all be over. He would die defending Snow, of course, as he had in his first romantic dreams about her when they met; he found now that the reality paled severely beside the idea of serving her while still alive.
*So what do we do now?* he asked, a question he would not have dared ask in anyone else’s company. But the room was deserted and cold, and the hum of minds aboard the ship too clamorous for anyone outside this room to sense his indecision and call it weakness.
*We have to have a better defense against the Asurans.*
*Ask Spark why he hasn’t come up with one yet,* Guide snapped.
*I have,* Seeker said, in a tone that suggested he was choosing to ignore the crackling resentment under Guide’s words. Spark was Snow’s other especial favorite among her zenana, and at first Guide had dismissed him as a serious rival because he was a cleverman and not a blade. A miscalculation, like so many others of late. *He says these… things… are as much alive as machines. They function like living organisms — they take in nourishment and reproduce.*
*Then why haven’t you come up with a solution yet?* Guide asked, but without heat.
*Because they’re not alive the way a man or a hive ship is alive. I can’t engineer a weapon or a virus to affect their tissues. They don’t have tissues; they’re mechanical. Nor can I cloud their minds. It would be like trying to communicate with a human cargo ship, made out of dead metal. They think because they’re programmed to think, not because they have living brains.*
*Programmed,* Guide said. He picked up another of the scattered game pieces and set it back on the board with a click. *Can they be reprogrammed?*
*I don’t think so. At least, I don’t think we can do it. Their programming is regularly updated — we’ve learned that much — and the new code spreads out virally to all other nanites within range. In theory, such a virus could spread to all the Asurans.*
*In theory?*
*We have news from a hive that brought an Asuran prisoner aboard to try. Their results were… not promising.*
*Did they find out anything of use?*
*Not many survived. The data we obtained from the survivors suggests that the virus would have to be introduced into a central data core in order to have permanent effects. Otherwise, it would simply be overwritten when the next periodic update from the core occurred. The core itself cannot be programmed remotely. It serves as a repository of untouched base code, in case someone tries to do just what we have been trying to do.*
*And where would we find the data core?*
*On the Asuran homeworld,* Seeker said. His expression showed that he followed Guide’s thoughts already, and didn’t like them one bit. *Surrounded by thousands of Asurans who would kill us if we came anywhere near their system, which, I may point out, is guarded by more ships than we could muster if we had a dozen hives at full strength.*
*And did the report specify the location of the data core?*
*I don’t know,* Seeker said, which Guide assumed to be a spectacular untruth; he would certainly have insisted on reading the report for himself, even though the physical sciences weren’t his specialty. *Spark would know better than I.*
*Then I will ask him,* Guide said. He caught Seeker’s arm as Seeker turned away from him. *Can I count on your help?*
*Don’t you always?* Seeker didn’t look up at him.
*That’s not an answer.*
Seeker finally raised his eyes to Guide’s. *Yes. If Spark thinks he can do it — and if he’ll agree to anything that’s suggested by you — then, yes. It’s the best chance we have.* He let out a breath. *Do try not to get us killed.*
*Getting killed
is not part of the plan.*
*You have a plan?*
*I’m constructing one.*
*Ah.* There was a flicker of humor under the words. *You realize you still have to talk the Queen into this?*
*I was relying on you to do that,* Guide said.
*Perhaps I ought to stab you,* Seeker said, but Guide was already on his way out the door.
Seeker found Snow in the empty zenana; no one was lounging there now, playing at games or telling stories or hoping to attract Snow’s eye. Those who weren’t working were sleeping like the dead. Snow paced alone between the couches, her long hair clean now and falling loose down her back in a spill of flame.
She raised her head as if startled to see him. *Seeker. Are all the wounded resting? If so, you should be resting too.*
*You should be resting yourself,* he said.
She shook her head. *I can’t sleep now.* She looked for a moment even younger than her years, less like a young queen in the first flush of her power than an uncertain girl too tired to bend anyone’s mind beneath her own.
He crossed to stand behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders, expecting a rebuke that didn’t come. *It will be all right,* he said.
She didn’t laugh, but he could feel a flicker of bitter amusement in her thoughts. *And what in the world makes you think that?* She drew herself up under his hands, straight and stiff as a blade. *I have led us to nothing but death.*
*Guide has a plan,* he said.
She turned at that, looking up at him, curiosity starting to bring some life back into her face. It was the virtue or vice they both shared, the insatiable curiosity that had led her to choose clevermen as her pallaxes, men who sought answers and new ways of doing things rather than leading men into battle. Except for Guide, and for a blade, Guide had always had an incisive and restless mind.
*And what plan might that be?*
*A way to reprogram the Asurans so that they will stop their war against us,* Seeker said, hoping as he spoke that he wasn’t promising more than Spark could deliver. *I believe Spark and I can do what he suggests.*
She stepped back to consider him. *And what aren’t you telling me?*
*My queen?*
*Presume I’m in no mood for games.*
*It can only be done at the Asuran central computer core,* Seeker said.
*On the Asuran homeworld.*
*Yes, my queen.*
She took a breath, and then let it out. *And how does he plan to accomplish this?*
*The details are still being worked out.*
*You mean he doesn’t know yet.*
*I’m sure he will have an excellent plan,* Seeker said.
*He had better,* Snow said. *I will not allow him to throw away all your lives in an attempt to impress me.*
*That’s not why he’s doing it,* Seeker said.
*He wants me to name him Consort. Which I have told him I can’t do until he proves himself worthy of it. I can’t entrust the hive to a man simply because he pleases me as pallax. No matter what my feelings may be.*
*He understands that.*
*Does he?*
*Most of the time,* Seeker said. *I understand, anyway.*
*And you support his cause.*
*As he supports me in my ambitions.*
*That’s not why you support his cause.*
*And his desire to be Consort is not why he is prepared to risk his life to save us all.*
*I know,* Snow said after a moment. *There isn’t much choice, is there?* She spoke with frank honesty, as if they were two clevermen speaking together. If they had been, he thought, they would have been friends.
*No, there isn’t,* he said.
*Then tell him to bring me a plan,* Snow said. She turned away again, leaning back deliberately into his hands, and he rubbed her shoulders, digging in his claws. *My Seeker,* she said. *You know I couldn’t ever name you Consort. We’re too much alike.*
*Make me your Master of Sciences Biological, then,* he said. *If we return.* It was entirely the wrong way to ask, too blunt and very nearly a command. No one with any sense of self-preservation commanded queens. But then Snow had always admired audacity.
*If you succeed,* she said, *I believe that I will.*
Spark was crouched in front of one of the main power nodes, testing a mended conduit. He was even dirtier than Seeker, which Guide hadn’t thought possible, and his hands were patchy with the marks of healing burns.
*You should rest,* Guide said abruptly.
*Thank you for your concern.*
*It won’t help us if you make mistakes.*
*I won’t make mistakes.* Spark rose from his crouch to consider Guide. *What do you want? I can’t fix the ship any faster.*
*We’re spaceworthy again,* Guide said. *As soon as the bridge crew have had a few hours’ rest, we’ll be leaving.*
*But it’s such a scenic rock.*
Guide snarled at him. *This is not the time for your humor.*
*Should I save it for another time? Because I may not be a strategic genius, but at this rate I can’t see that we have much more time left.*
*We did our best.*
*I know that,* Spark said, no mockery in his voice now. *The dart pilots did their best, I did my best, the queen did her best. And it wasn’t good enough.*
*I know you’re good at what you do.*
*Compliments, now. We must be dying.*
*Will you listen for once in your misbegotten life?* He bared his teeth, and Spark adopted a posture of respectful attention that might conceivably have been taken as sincere. *Seeker tells me the Asurans can be reprogrammed,* he said. *Hypothetically. Can you do it?*
*No,* Spark said. *Reprogramming an individual unit won’t work, because when the base code updates — *
*Suppose you had access to the Asuran data core.*
*Hypothetically?* He thought for a moment. *Yes, I could do it.*
*You mean you think you could do it.*
*I mean I know I could do it. I’ve gone over the report we got from the clevermen who tried it before. They were close to a solution, except for not having access to the data core, and where they did go wrong, I can see how to fix the problems. I have no doubt that I can create a computer virus that will rewrite the Asurans base code to make them leave us alone. But we don’t have access to the Asuran data core.*
*Leave that to me.*
*You’re crazy,* Spark said at once. *If we so much as enter the same system as the Asuran homeworld, they’ll detect us. A hive ship isn’t exactly easy to hide.*
*We aren’t going in a hive ship,* Guide said. The plan was coming together as he spoke, and he hoped it proved to contain no gaping holes. *We’re going to steal a Lantean ship.*
*How will that help? We won’t even be able to fly it.*
*They had some ships that didn’t require Lantean pilots, didn’t they?*
*Well, yes, some little freighters designed for human pilots without the Lantean genetic markers, but those ships are pieces of junk. I could probably get one working, but it won’t have any weapons.*
*Good,* Guide said. *We don’t want it to appear to be a threat. We want it to appear to be a derelict.*
*They’ll still come investigate. Even scrap metal is food for them.*
*How fast?*
*Maybe not instantly.*
*All we need is to get far enough in-system to be able to launch darts.*
*You can’t go by yourself in a dart,* Spark said. *As attractive as that idea sounds to me. You’re going to need me to go with you. I can’t talk you through this. And we’ll need at least one other cleverman who knows something about computer systems. We’ll have to work very fast.*
*The darts are for you and y
our men as well.*
*I repair ships, I don’t fly them,* Spark said.
*You won’t need to.*
Spark paled abruptly as he followed Guide’s thought. *You’re crazy. You really expect me to trust one of your pilots to drop me off with a culling beam, and then trust them to pick me up again? Even if they survive that long.*
*They’ll be picking me up as well.*
*Do you trust them not to leave you down there?*
*I do,* he said. If he hadn’t given his own men reason to want him safely back aboard the ship, he didn’t deserve to lead them.
*The problem is, I don’t trust you,* Spark said. *Suppose this works. And I wouldn’t place any bets on that, because it’s going to take some time for the code push to propagate even locally, and while we’re waiting around, anyone who’s noticed what we’re doing is going to be trying to kill us. But even supposing this does work, what possible incentive do you have not to just leave me conveniently behind?*
*The good of the hive,* Guide said.
It was a long moment before Spark replied. *Find me a ship we can fly.*
*Write your code. And make it good.*
*It’ll be good.* Dark amusement flickered under the words. *The queen won’t like it if you get me killed.*
Guide bared his teeth at him. *I know.*
The auxiliary control room was little bigger than a sleeping room, wound through with tangled conduits and cradled in the flesh of the hive. Its control console was wreathed in cables and partially disassembled, but it had never been used in Guide’s memory; the chair nestled in one corner of the room doubled as both sleeping couch and control chair, with all the contacts needed to communicate with the hive.
The room appeared to be unoccupied, the chair in shadow.
*Seldom-Seen,* Guide said. *I need to talk to you.*
Illusion dissolved like fog, revealing Seldom-Seen sprawled in the chair, head back and eyes closed, his hands on the neural contacts. Deception was his gift, the gift of Osprey’s line perfected to a height few men could master. It was a gift that would have been of great use to a blade. Guide was never certain whether a blade was what his mother had in fact intended to breed when she had taken a pallax with Osprey genes; what she had gotten was a son with the illusion gift in its fullest expression, and not the slightest talent or inclination for battle.
Stargate SG-1 & Atlantis - Far Horizons Page 19
