Arach

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by C. M. Simpson


  Damn. I really had liked that gun. Steppy hadn’t been too impressed, either—but memories of Steppy had to wait, as the door swung inwards, and a young man in an Odyssey uniform stood there. He had let the door open of its own accord, but hadn’t followed it inside. I watched as his curiosity turned to startlement, when he caught sight of me. I was well away from the door and in one of the more aggressive defensive stances, I knew.

  His face paled, and he swallowed nervously.

  “Um, ma’am? Delight said I should show you to the gym.”

  I shook my head, and he spoke again.

  “Or the front door, if you insisted. We have cleared the hallways.”

  That was…good. A little worrying, but I figured Delight might know why I was feeling a sudden surge of energy, as well as the strangest desire to either kill something or weep.

  “Front door,” I said, trying to ignore the crawling sensation over my skin, the restless itch that burned muscle deep.

  “Yes, ma’am. Turn left here, and then right when you hit the double glass doors,” and he backed away from the stairwell, but not before I realized he hadn’t been armed.

  He must have caught my glance because he added, “Delight also says there are no weapons being carried, right now. She says you needed to know that.”

  Delight knew an awful lot about what I was feeling, it seemed. Made a girl wonder exactly how many times she’d gone through it. Funny how Delight was nowhere to be found in my head. I guess she just didn’t want to have her mental ass grabbed and hauled out into the open where I could shake the living shit out of it.

  I nodded, and moved to the door. He backed further out into the hall, and kept himself exactly where I could see him.

  “Front door’s that way,” he said, pointing, and I took off.

  It felt good to be running again.

  I hit the double glass and hung a right. I’d been tempted to hang a left, but right felt better. There were people and vespis out there that I didn’t recognize, but I didn’t see a single weapon. It was almost like someone had called ahead…

  “Delight?”

  Still no answer, but I was feeling good. The running was good, and I was a long way from being out of breath. I’d run five blocks before I realized I was on the way to the airfield. Oh. Good. I could do a few laps around that. I needed to do a few laps around that. Heavens knew why, but that’s just the way it was. I was starting to think that whatever Odyssey had slipped into the tank to get me back on my feet might be responsible—or irresponsible; it depended on the way you looked at it.

  That would explain why Delight might know what was going on.

  Excellent. She could explain it to the queen and the other vespis, then.

  I hit the edge of the airfield and turned right, starting around it in an attempt to run some of the pent-up energy out of my limbs. The field was empty, completely clear of life and without a single shuttle in sight. There was also no sign of the small stage that had been set up, before. I scanned the ridgeline, and the buildings at the field’s edge, only partly relieved when nothing moved in either place.

  I hit the end of the field, and turned to run along it, catching a glimpse of a small squad of vespis flying out from the city. They weren’t coming directly towards me, but I decided to keep an eye on them. There was something odd about the way they were flying, the shape of them. Like they were carrying something in their jaws.

  I took a glance forward to make sure my footing was clear, and I wasn’t running into anything unexpected, and then I took another look at the incoming vespis. They were carrying humans in their jaws. I remembered being carried like that. They must be in a hurry. As my gaze swept the shuttle field from front to back, I saw three of the vespis flyers top the rise, and turn to approach the runway. That was interesting.

  I figured neither group was a problem to me, and ran to where the field skirted the base of the ridge. The first flyer touched down as I made the corner, but no-one called out to me, or asked what I was doing, so I kept running. The action was easing the skittering twitch playing through my body. What would help more would have been a knock-down drag-out fight, but I couldn’t see any volunteers, and I didn’t think I had the time.

  The second flyer touched down, and turned at the end of the field. I reached the turn point as the third flyer rolled in, running almost the full length of the field before it turned and taxied over to where a group of vespis and humans stood waiting. As it came to stop before them, I hit the next corner and turned back along the edge closest to the settlement.

  The humans and vespis moved towards the flyers, but one lifted up from the group, hovered for a second, and then turned towards me. I watched it approach, but didn’t let it disturb the pace I had set. If it wanted me, it would tell me—and, no sooner had I thought that, than I heard T’Kit’s voice in my head.

  “Cutter. It is time to go.” She flew around me, and then came back to fly beside me. “Follow me on board.”

  “Give my apologies to your Queen,” I said. “I did not mean to leave so abruptly.”

  “The queen is not offended. Delight explained what they did in order to repair you in time to serve our needs. I will brief you on your part in the coming mission.”

  Some of the anxiety faded from inside my chest, and the energy in my limbs subsided some more.

  “Can you do this?” T’Kit asked.

  “Yes,” I said, and hoped it was true.

  At least I knew the terrible restlessness had a cause. Like Mack had said, I was running on a nan-powered stim pack. Coming off it was going to be a bitch.

  30—Cutter Unleashed

  Our first stop was the weaver settlement we had cleared, however many days ago it had been. The buildings were still intact, and there was no sign of any life having returned. The queen sent out a quick search party of vespis, and they reported emptiness.

  “And the shuttle that came down?”

  “Not in this village,” the guards reported, and the queen directed the flyers to where the next weaver settlement was located.

  And now I was not alone. Tension ran through the shuttle, every vespis and human checked through their weapons and gear, or stared out at the forest and cliffs rushing past. This time the flyers did not settle any distance from the settlement. They came right in, setting down as close to the buildings as they could get.

  “This way,” T’Kit said. “We are to escort Askavor, and check this section.”

  “Why did the queen ask after a shuttle?”

  “Because there were reports of multiple flights in this area, and we are sure that not all of them were of K’Kavor origin. We believe many came directly from orbit.”

  “How did you not know?”

  “The pilot that ambushed you was not the only infiltrator in our ranks. Once he had been unmasked, we were able to uncover the ones that had made it into the team that monitors air traffic and approaching space ships. Your role was instrumental.”

  I was both happy and put out to hear it.

  “You were not meant to be as badly injured as you were.” T’Kit sounded almost apologetic, as she referred to the ambush on the field. “Mack seemed to think you would be armed.”

  “I was armed,” I replied, and she gave the series of jerky buzzes that signified vespis laughter.

  “He thought you would have more than the chair. We had anticipated the Blazer, at least.”

  I felt my face heat, and then realized she might be teasing me… or actually trying to apologize for what had turned out to be one of Mack’s most monumental fuck-ups.

  “It is not his fault… or yours,” I said, “Mack is right; I should have armed myself before I left the shuttle.”

  “To give you your due, you were expecting to enter friendly territory, guarded by others suitably armed, and had not been forewarned the settlement was compromised.”

  This, too, was true, but the flyer touched down, and there was no
more time to discuss it.

  “We have been assigned this quadrant,” T’Kit said, and the location floated into my head. “You, Askavor, Mack, and I are to see if the scans missed any survivors, and to seek clues as to what happened to make it as it is.”

  I headed out of the flyer, T’Kit, Askavor and Mack forming around me. Even though the scans had shown no life forms in the area, we were still wary. This should have been a thriving fishing center, and home to at least a dozen weaver families. T’Kit confirmed that the webbing in the trees overhead had the structure of permanent dwellings, while the buildings on the ground reminded me of boat and product storage centers. The whole place should have been bustling, but it felt like it had been empty for centuries.

  The first of the buildings we’d been assigned was reminiscent of the building I’d investigated in the first settlement. That one had contained an arach king, and rooms full of cocoons. I wondered if this one would be the same. The thought made me hesitate, and I slowed my approach, noting the differences between this processing center and the last.

  The doorways were bigger for a start, and looked like they’d been made more for creatures of Askavor’s size than mine; the outer walls were made up of large, dark-glassed window panes, providing a view of the surrounding community. If there had been anything alive working inside—or lying in wait—we would have been able to see it, but nothing moved behind the shadowed glass, and, nothing lay in wait in the dim interior beyond.

  Mack and I went through the first entry with all the caution we’d have taken infiltrating a hostile building, and found our efforts had been wasted. We split up and worked opposite sides of the room, before working back to meet in the middle, but it made no difference. The packing tables and equipment stood idle, and did not look like they had been used in weeks. The storage rooms at the back of the building hummed, and contained nothing but boxes marked with symbols of fish.

  I cracked a couple to be sure the contents lived up to the promise of the packaging. It was kinda disappointing to find that they did. The building was perfectly clear, and looked like it had been shut down for the day, in readiness for the following day’s work. The whole set-up sent chills over me, but there was nothing to show what had happened to the folk who were supposed to be running things.

  Mack, Askavor, T’Kit and I moved from one end of the shed to the other, but. It was not until we went out through the back door, that we had a clue to the community’s fate.

  “What the fuck is this?” I asked, turning right, just as Mack turned left and asked the same thing.

  We moved forward to let T’Kit and Askavor follow us out, and we tried not to let what we’d found distract us from the surrounding buildings and nearby forest. I mean, looking at the piles? I had a pretty bad feeling that I knew exactly what they were, but my mind didn’t want to process things that way. When Askavor’s grief crashed through my head, I had no choice but to accept what I was seeing.

  “Those are legs?”

  “Yes,” T’Kit said, and we moved aside as Askavor brushed past and ran his long-clawed forehands over the contents of the stack.

  After that first wave of grief, he’d tried to contain his emotion, but we could still hear the small sounds of denial he was making in our minds, and his sorrow was contagious. T’Kit flew up to a point where she could see over the buildings, and into the forest. I wanted to call her back, thinking she made a perfect target, but my ears caught the agitated thrum of a dozen wings, and I realized the vespis were communicating in ways other than thought—that more than T’Kit were hovering between the buildings and weavers’ webs.

  “There were other piles?”

  “Beneath every dwelling,” she replied, and I looked up.

  One of the weaver homes hung above our heads.

  “Lift me,” I said, even as Askavor leapt to the roof, and then onto a nearly invisible ladder of threads.

  T’Kit did as I asked, and carried me to the dwelling’s entrance.

  “Arach,” she said, just as I said the same thing.

  “Cutter…” Mack spoke in my head, but his protest at being left behind was cut short by an exclamation of surprise as a second vespis flew over and lifted him into the air.

  T’Kit set me down on the edge of the nest, and moved out of the way so that her colleague could deposit Mack beside me.

  “Arach,” he agreed, catching a whiff of the air inside the dwelling.

  I wondered how many exits each silk-spun home had, even as the strands of web vibrated against the ledge I was standing on.

  “Oh, shit,” Mack said, and I had to agree.

  Askavor was a boiling cloud of rage, his legs a blur as he raced towards us. I didn’t need Mack’s instruction as I hurried inside.

  “Take point, Cutter. We can’t stop him. We can only clear the way.”

  I didn’t need Askavor to have a face I could read. I knew we couldn’t stop him. Grief, outrage, and anger rolled off him in a palpable wave. Mack was right. We couldn’t stop him—it would be suicide to try—but we could at least try to help him find justice for his people.

  “His family,” T’Kit informed us. “This was his village.”

  And I wanted to know why the fuck they’d brought him.

  “We were hoping there would be better news.”

  “Did he have a… wife?”

  “No, but he had a queen and many, many siblings.”

  Well, fuck. Now, I understood why they’d handed me the armored vest and head gear, when I’d hit the flyer—and I was glad of it, now. I led the way through the entrance and into the corridor, beyond. It was light inside the dwelling, the walls filtering the sun into a warm, pearlescent gleam. I wondered exactly how the arach thought they’d be able to hide.

  The weaver-wide hall led into a broad, open space in the center of the structure, and Mack and I advanced along it, side by side. We both paused at the opening to the central space, but we could not stop. Askavor was rolling through the entrance, and neither of us wanted him to flatten us on the way past. We slipped swiftly around the edges of the corridor, and along the outer walls, searching for movement or shadows on the ceiling, the upper walls, the floor, and the half dozen curving entrances leading out from the space.

  As an ambush site, this was very, very bad—or very, very good, depending on your perspective. But the arach were black, and grey, the colors of space, and should have been easily seen. Askavor sailed out of the corridor behind us. He did not hesitate, did not pause, but leapt into the center of the open room, and struck out and down with his fangs, struck up with his forelegs, and snap-kicked a hind leg into another area of the mat.

  “Cutter!” Mack called, but I already knew.

  In a world where scent was king, we were almost blind. The arach had covered themselves in the light greys and whites found in a weaver’s home interior. Askavor had found them by scent, but we had been completely blind to their presence.

  “We are coming,” T’Kit said, as the walls near the other exits started to move.

  I might have wondered what the weaver intended, but there was no time. We hadn’t been able to see the arach, and we couldn’t pinpoint them by smell, but they were here, and coming down the walls and ceiling we’d thought clear. Mack and I headed for Askavor.

  We were no good to him this far away. We were gambling that he’d recognize us… or, at the very least, realize we weren’t arach, and leave us until last. Personally, I wanted nothing more than to put my back to Mack’s and fight that way, but we had to protect Askavor’s vulnerable rear, and it was way too wide for us to do that standing close together, unless…

  Mack, of course, had gotten there before me. He grabbed me by the sleeve, and unslung the Blazer, firing down, and into the arach Askavor had kicked. It was still struggling to rise from the matted floor. By the time we were done, it was never going to rise again.

  We maneuvered around it, using it as a barrier between us and the ara
ch descending from the walls. We couldn’t quite stand back-to-back, but shoulder-to-shoulder was enough.

  “T’Kit, we’re using Blazer solids,” I said.

  I knew she could pick it out of my head, but it felt better saying it out loud.

  “Arc?” she asked, and I pictured it, so she could see. “Mack?”

  There was a slight hiccup as he paused between bursts, and then his fire resumed its usual pace.

  “I am never getting used to that,” he said, and I laughed, shifting targets, and shattering the head and thorax of another arach before it could cross the ceiling and drop on us.

  “You do it to me all the time.”

  “Screw you, Cutter.”

  “So many nopes,” I shouted back, and we both turned to take on the arach coming out of the doors on either side. It felt good to have Mack’s back against mine.

  “T’Kit—” I began, but the wasp replied before I could finish.

  “We are monitoring. We will stay clear of your line.”

  I was guessing she meant line of fire, and felt better. The last thing I wanted was to take out one of the vespis coming in to help us. Askavor jolted backwards, and Mack and I both stepped forward and away from each other, clearing a path for the weaver to move to. We also both looked to the front.

  “Fuck!”

  “You two are one foul-mouthed duet,” Tens said.

  “Fuck off, Tens.”

  It didn’t help that that came out in sync, too.

  He didn’t reply, which was a good thing, because Askavor had a darn good reason to reverse into the area we’d just cleared.

  “You back with us, big guy?” Mack asked, and I knew he was moving forward to stand where Askavor’s abdomen joined his head and thorax.

  “Cephalothorax, girl.”

  What-thefuck-everQ.

  “I am here, and I am sorry.”

  “It’s no problem,” I told him, eyeing the half dozen arach advancing towards us. “We’d have had to kill these fu…spit sacks, anyway.”

 

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