Confluence 2: Remanence

by Jennifer Foehner Wells

  Communing with another kuboderan mind to mind was a joy. But to physically inhabit the same spaces… He wasn’t sure he would know how to behave.

  “What have we left to fear?” she asked. “Have we not been stripped already of everything we have come to hold dear? What better way to start a new life?”

  He considered that. He could find no fault with the argument.

  “Opening exterior portal. Flooding portal corridor,” Ei’Pio said.

  “I’ll be with you,” Jane said, and moved away.

  He slipped outside.

  His hearts hammered out of sync. This place was so big, so open. He fought down a whirling sense of panic and turned his body to refocus on the ship, to see his centuries-long home for the first time from the outside with his own eyes.

  Esthetically, the Speroancora looked stripped down and more streamlined. It was badly damaged, but not irreparably, he thought. The solar arrays had taken the worst of the punishment. Some had been lost when they passed through the atmosphere, the rest when they violently collided with the ocean, particularly on the lower surfaces. The ship wasn’t engineered to do any of those things. But it had held together.

  Without the swooping solar arrays, power generation could have become a problem if they’d been housing a large crew. Thankfully, they weren’t, and stored power should outlast their needs.

  He jetted up to get a better view. It made him more vulnerable to predators, but his eyesight was good and aside from more of the small fish, some soft jelly creatures, and an abundance of plankton, he didn’t see anything else in the immediate vicinity.

  A thermal caught him, pushing him off course. He countered instinctively by redirecting his funnel and pumping harder. He was able to end up where he wanted to be without too much trouble.

  The water was so…alive. There was no other word for it. He never could have imagined it would be so dynamic. There were a million points of perception pounding on his senses, begging to be noticed. The flavors in the water, the temperature changes, the swirling current. Kai’Memna had been right. This was living. This was more real than anything he’d ever felt.

  He darted up a bit more, turning and sweeping a look in all directions. It made him feel a little woozy, but it was also intoxicating. He could make a life here. He could imagine himself exploring these depths for…he couldn’t even imagine how long. He could reign as king of these seas. Who would begrudge him that?

  He reached a height where he could see the other ship. It was in better shape, having descended into the atmosphere at a less perilous velocity and broken through the water in a more cautious manner.

  He let a slow updraft push him vertically a little more through the cold, inky water. Ei’Pio came into sight, her silvery skin reflecting what little light was available. She hovered just outside the exterior portal of the Oblignatus, her limbs pulled into a tight point, presumably so she could bolt back inside if she needed to.

  She guarded her thoughts, just as he was doing, but nothing could stop her body from displaying the most primitive of signals, even if it was briefly—an intermittent flash of the fuchsia of fear, the cobalt flicker that broadcasted alarm to others of their kind. He had no doubt he’d been doing the same.

  She was the first live kuboderan he’d seen since he’d been a paralarva. Part of him wanted to rush over just to look at her, except that he also felt a strong urge to hide, to put off what was surely an inevitable meeting until some of the newness of this place had become customary.

  But now that she’d seen him, it was too late for that.

  “Is it safe?” she asked.

  “I’ve yet to observe anything perturbing,” he answered.

  Yet she still flashed her fear and doubt, hesitating at the mouth of the portal she’d just come out of. He wanted to reassure her.

  They were two members of a ferocious race that had been tamed so deeply that leaving their cages induced fear. Kai’Memna had been right to be angry. But had he needed to commit genocide in order to free their people? Perhaps there’d been no other effective course of action, but Kai’Memna had gone too far. What he’d done next had compounded the mistake. He hadn’t allowed the kuboderans he freed to choose their own way—he’d merely conscripted them for another evil coalition or killed them.

  For the first time Brai wondered where the rest of those kuboderans had gone, how many Kai’Memna had managed to recruit. Perhaps Ei’Pio knew.

  He looked down on her again, but found she’d retreated inside her ship. He immediately glanced around, searching for large predators. Finding none, he asked, “Why have you withdrawn?”

  “You’re angry,” she replied warily.

  He ground his beak. He’d just displayed his emotions for her without the context of his thoughts. It was a very bad impression to make. He’d been rude. He opened up to her, so she could see his chagrin. “I was thinking of Kai’Memna,” he said simply.

  She accepted that truth and emerged again, but hovered near the portal.

  He moved closer, presenting the red of friendship. “Did he injure you?”

  Ei’Pio lit up crimson for the briefest moment. “There have been many hurts.” She did not elaborate. Her thoughts were still reserved, but she surged toward him a short distance.

  He drifted down over the far side of the Speroancora, closing the gap between them. Jane was with him in his mind, watching, urging him on. “We have stopped him from perpetrating evil on anyone else. He has met dusk.”

  “We’ve stopped him, but not his evil,” she said gravely and she pushed up slightly.

  The threat of the Swarm. He sobered. “We will find a way.”

  “There are occasions when there is no way.” Her mental voice broke. She turned and seemed to consider returning to her sanctuary.

  He waited silently, still floating down without any thrust. “That may be true, but if there is a way, Qua’dux Jane Holloway will find it. She is determined.”

  “I would like to know this terran better,” Ei’Pio said, turning back to face him. She let him see that Jane’s tenacity in the face of Kai’Memna’s aggression had galvanized her own resolve to fight him. That had saved them all.

  “You will.”

  Ei’Pio shot up like a projectile to within an arm’s length of him.

  He went motionless. They stared at each other.

  She was slightly larger than him. Her limbs were longer and thinner as well. That could mean she was older or that there was sexual dimorphism in their species that favored larger females. How strange that he didn’t know.

  Her eyes were dark and luminous, full of loss, taking him in. He did the same, opening his thoughts to her more, so she could see that he found her to be beautiful.

  She was as fluid as the liquid they were immersed in. He was mesmerized by her diaphanous fins, undulating in waves to keep her steady in the column of water. Her limbs moved in helixes and coils, in quicksilver glints, as they shifted delicately around her body.

  He felt stubby and clunky by comparison. That amused her, but not in an unflattering way. She found him dear.

  He drew closer and she didn’t move away.

  Jane’s tender touch earlier was on his mind. Ei’Pio saw that and liked it. Her mantle filled. Her arms corkscrewed. She pushed still closer, unhurried, at the same time fully relaxing her guard on her thoughts. She was lush and lovely, complex and full of pain and fire.

  They hovered there, taking each other in. Currents pushed on them, turning them, unheeded. He was so engrossed in knowing her, learning her, seeing her, that he barely noticed her limbs gently twining around his until they were well and truly entangled.

  55

  Alan stood in the deck transport with Jane. It was full of water and was going to make a huge mess when it opened. He was just glad that the system was so robust that it could take this kind of abuse without a glitch. The Sectilius had been damn fine engineers. This shit was solid-state.

  And they were still alive, agai
nst all odds, again.

  He glanced at Jane. She was deep in thought, staring straight ahead. She didn’t seem to notice the gush of water flooding the crew deck or sheeting off of their suits. She just clomped out into the corridor, though not turning in the direction of their quarters.

  She walked a long, long way down that endless corridor, not saying a word. He followed, though he wasn’t sure if he should. She was in a strange mood. Maybe she wanted to be left alone.

  Well, he’d be damned if he’d let her wander off. That evil squid had been trying to scramble her brains. She needed a thorough exam. He cursed under his breath because Ajaya was in the sanalabrium and wouldn’t be able to perform that task. Jane should probably be right there next to her.

  She finally paused at one of the big window-bubble things. It was nearly black on the other side. He saw a shimmery fish dart past. Her helmet receded into the shoulders of her suit as she leaned into the glass. He heard her sigh.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She didn’t answer.

  He retracted his own helmet and sidled up to her, studying her. She was paler than normal. Her dark-blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but as usual a few of the silky strands were escaping. They were plastered to her face, damp with sweat. He wanted to push them back, but he didn’t have enough practice with the gauntlets to trust his fingers to be that gentle. He was worried enough about the traces of blood that were smeared from her nose across her cheek.

  She was entranced by something through the window. He turned to see what it was. The other ship was out this direction. Maybe she was looking at it, though he couldn’t imagine how she could see it in the dark.

  A flash of red bioluminescence caught his eye. Then another. He looked more closely. Now that he knew where to look, he could see the whitish outline of the two kuboderans getting all wrapped up in each other.

  Squid love was in full bloom. Apparently.

  He cleared his throat. “I did not need to see that.”

  She didn’t hear him.

  He watched her watching them. Her eyes were sad, but there was a hint of a smile curving her lips. He wondered if she was in Brai’s head, experiencing the whole alien-mating-ritual thing in real time. He would never get used to that. It was just too freaking weird. But he was beginning to understand why she did it. Sorta.

  Suddenly she inhaled and turned to him. “Hm?”

  “Has the Love Boat come to Pliga?” he asked, grinning at her. “Please tell me they aren’t getting busy out there.”

  She looked surprised. Then she laughed. It erupted out of her, transforming her face, lighting her up. “Um, no. I don’t think so.” She looked back then, like she wasn’t sure. “No, I don’t… Maybe. I don’t know.” She pulled an incredulous, and maybe even mortified, face and giggled.

  He chuckled with her. He loved the sound of her laugh. He was pretty sure he loved her.

  She leaned on him, wrapped her arms around him. Her head rested against his chest. It was weird in the suits, but it was still good. It was right. This was the kind of intimacy he’d avoided his entire adult life. He’d been so stupid.

  He kissed the top of her head. “We’ve got our work cut out for us now, babe,” he murmured.

  She sighed. “We’ll manage.”

  “Or die trying,” he said, rubbing his chin over her hair.

  “We’ll find a way to fix the ship. Maybe the Pligans will help. The sectilian records say they’re extraordinary engineers.”

  “Then what?”

  She looked up at him, her expression tight. “We have a new mission.”

  “Which is?”

  “We stop the Swarm.”

  “No easy task,” he said, frowning.

  “We’ll find a way. We have to.”

  He believed her. She was right. And if anyone could do it, she could.

  The galaxy’s survival depended on it.

  56

  Kai’Memna hadn’t lived this long to meet death like a meek rodent. He’d never underestimated his own kind. True, in all these long years, as he sought out and converted his brothers and sisters, he’d never encountered much in the way of serious resistance, but the Sectilius were to blame for that—they’d brainwashed the Kubodera into believing they were one and the same, that they were sectilian. They weren’t. The Kubodera were apex predators who only needed to be reminded of their heritage and their place in the hierarchy of species. Any individual who was incapable of acknowledging that fact was unworthy to live.

  He’d put measures in place long before in preparation for scenarios such as this—it was the main reason he’d left so many of his crew alive, though it had been taxing over the years to maintain their quiescence. They were sacrificing themselves now in his name. This was how it was meant to be. A fierce species like his own should be served without reservation by a menial, lesser species. The dusk falling on them, winking them out of existence, was a small price to pay for his survival.

  His first course of action, while he struggled valiantly to keep his vessel aloft, was to dislodge the Colocallida. He growled at Ei’Uba, issuing orders. The smaller ship was disabled. Ei’Uba would most likely be lost. He felt a moment’s regret at losing the long-time flatterer, but he was one of many, easily replaced. And he’d failed, after all, to do what he was told, letting that terran detritus get the best of him. He’d earned his extinguishment.

  Kai’Memna eased the Portacollus to starboard so that Pliga’s gravity would assist in the displacement of the smaller ship. Crewmembers already stood by, braced in battle armor with sheets of hull plating and large quantities of squillae for repairs, while others worked diligently to patch his enclosure and stop the loss of water.

  Ei’Uba flailed and begged Kai’Memna for assistance. His own smaller crew worked to effect similar repairs but was not as efficient. The damage to the Colocallida was spread over a more significant portion of that ship. It was likely a fruitless endeavor.

  When the Colocallida finally broke free, he watched with the mildest of interest as it hurtled to the frozen dark side of Pliga, exploding in a plume of orange and red, reflected by the compacted ice and snow on that massive continent. It was lovely, all that ice and fire.

  As for himself, he opened a jump window. He would return to his home base to restore his ship to peak working order.

  Then he would be back to teach this terran and her pet kuba a lesson.

  Glossary

  aepar

  • A measurement of time analogous to a second.

  anipraxia

  • (noun) A form of telepathic communication used by the Kubodera. Requires stimulation/activation of dormant, partially evolved structures in the brain of a sentient participant. Used for communication between a kuboderan and sectilian shipmates. (adjective) anipraxic

  atellan

  • The race of the Sectilius originating on the moon of Atielle. The lower gravity of the moon contributed to a taller, more slender body form.

  Atielle

  • Sectilia’s moon and home of the sectilian race referred to as atellans. One of four moons, but the only one that is habitable, with a similar atmospheric composition to Sectilia. One-third the mass of Earth, with a surface area roughly twice that of Earth’s moon. Gravity is roughly one-half g. This planet is extremely volcanically active with erratic weather patterns and extreme storms. Its ecosystem has been devastated by a predator species, the nepatrox.

  • The origin and ancestral home of Quasador Dux Rageth Elia Hator.

  Bergen, Alan

  • Aeronautical engineer and the flight engineer on the original Providence mission.

  casgrata

  • “Thank you” in Mensententia.

  Compton, Tom

  • A mechanical engineer and pilot of the original Providence mission.

  Confluos giganus

  • The species name of the Swarm, an omnivorous predatory insect species that devours entire ecosystems, leaving nothing living behind.
Through millennia of evolution, this species adapted to devastate land, sea, and travel in the vacuum of space to find new worlds to conquer.

  cornu

  • This class of sectilian shuttle is slightly larger, more modern, and better configured for science expeditions than other models and therefore contains more seating for crew.

  Cunabula

  • A scientifically advanced ancient race. Deep in the reaches of time, the Cunabula seeded many habitable worlds with the precursors of life, allowing it to evolve on its own. One of their experiments was to create a competitive race on Earth that would serve as a warrior class to defend the weaker races in the galaxy from threats that might be a danger to the diversity they hoped to preserve.

  Ei’Brai

  • The kuboderan Gubernaviti of the Speroancora.

  EMP

  • Electromagnetic pulse. Also referred to as an ionic pulse or burst. It is an intense burst of electromagnetic energy caused by a rapid acceleration of particles, normally electrons, which can have a variety of sources. Such a pulse normally results in widespread damage to electronics, rendering them useless by destroying delicate components.

  exiguumet

  • Small measure of distance, akin to a millimeter.

  Gibbs, Ronald

  • Electrical engineer, computer specialist, and a member of the original Providence mission.

  Gistraedor Dux

  • Leader of an atellan community. Shortened form of this title is Gis’dux.

  Greenspace Deck

  • An entire deck on a sectilian ship devoted to cultivation of plant species native to the Sectilius system.

  Gubernaviti

  • The designation of a kuboderan within a ship community. The governing navigator. Takes part in the administration of ship policy, including sitting on the Quorum. Responsibilities include navigation and monitoring personnel, among many other duties. Checked by the yoke and a close connection to the Quasador Dux.