Tobias grunted cynically. “The truth is, Superintendent Cantrell never intended to take the worms to Paradise. It was far too expensive a proposition. Now he has exactly the excuse he needs to—” He turned toward the superintendent. “To what, Superintendent? To flush them into space? Is that what you were planning?"
Cantrell laughed and turned to the guards. “Get them out of here,” he ordered, gesturing toward Liz and Tobias. “Confine them to their quarters."
"Wait,” Liz protested. “You can't do that. You have no right!” She backed toward the crustaceans, her hands held away from her sides as if to shield them from Cantrell and the guards.
"This is a Consortium ship,” Cantrell said. “I can do whatever I want."
"Actually, you can't,” Tobias said.
Cantrell's eyes narrowed. “What do you mean—I can't?"
Tobias smiled. “What you fail to realize, Superintendent, is that these creatures had contact with the Anunnaki. They have knowledge of the Anunnaki we know nothing about. Knowledge of their technology, of the direction they were headed—knowledge of all sorts of things that I don't think your Consortium bosses would want you to throw away."
"That's ridiculous,” Cantrell said. “If these things had any contact with the Anunnaki, it was generations ago. How are they going to remember something like that? Based on what I've seen, they can't even remember their names."
"You forget I had a chance to examine them down on Slag,” Tobias said. “It turns out that the Anunnaki modified their DNA in a way that allows them to pass memories from one generation to the next—in the introns between their genes. That's how the worms knew which colonies to join. The chances are, when those intron sequences fully express themselves, as they now appear to be doing, these creatures are going to remember a great deal about the Anunnaki. If you decide to flush all that knowledge into space, I think the Consortium may decide to flush you along with it."
Cantrell tugged uncomfortably at the collar of his tunic.
"Of course, it's your career,” Tobias continued with a disinterested shrug. “You know what your bosses want better than I do."
Cantrell's jaw tightened, but Liz could see the wheels turning in his head. He wanted the crustaceans gone, but he also knew that if he threw away a chance to learn anything at all about the Anunnaki's technology, his Consortium bosses would have his head.
"Keep an eye on them,” he snapped, turning to the two guards. “Make sure neither of them leaves the hold."
The two guards saluted smartly, whereupon the superintendent turned and stamped out through the hatch, slamming the door behind him.
"Do you really think Glimmer and the others will remember their contact with the Anunnaki?” Liz whispered. She kept her back to the guards so they couldn't hear what she was saying.
"I haven't the vaguest idea,” Tobias whispered back.
"But you told Cantrell they would."
Tobias shrugged. “We needed time to figure out a plan. I told him the first thing that came to mind."
"This is terrible,” Liz said, biting her lip. “We left so many of the worms behind on Slag, and now Cantrell wants to destroy Glimmer and others we brought with us."
"There's no doubt about his intentions, but I'm not so sure we left anyone behind."
"But you saw the way the worms were loaded. We saw thousands of them die."
Tobias turned toward Glimmer. The large crustacean's body was arched slightly forward as a pastel blue wave slid slowly along his pliant exoskeleton. “Do you know how many of you there should be?” Tobias asked.
Glimmer's feathered antennae slowly swirled, angling toward the water beyond the catwalk. “Not sure. I'm . . .” The waves of color washing down his body quickened. After a moment, the colors were echoed by the two creatures standing further along the catwalk, as well as by a dozen more that were still under the water in front of them. “All are here,” he said, turning back to Tobias. “None is missing."
"But you can't all be here,” Liz said. “When they cut through the ice, they only reached a small part of you, a fraction of a percent. I mean, you weren't all there in that one spot."
"I think he's right,” Tobias whispered.
"That's impossible,” she said.
"I'll explain later,” Tobias said. “Right now we have to find a way out of here. Even if the Consortium believes what I said, we can't assume they'll want to keep Glimmer and the others around. We need some way to neutralize the guards."
"Neutralize. . . ?” Glimmer repeated as the meaning of the word slowly dawned on him. He straightened, his antennae again moving toward the crustaceans in the water. At the same time, the waves of color moving down his body intensified, becoming brighter and more clearly defined.
Tobias watched him for a moment, then turned back to Liz. “We need to reach someone on the Council, someone we can trust, before Cantrell and his cronies get their act together."
Liz glanced past his shoulder at the guards who stood just in front of the hatch leading back into the ship. “I don't think they're going to let us go anywhere,” she said.
"We will help. . . .” Glimmer whispered. “We will neutralize. . . ."
He sounded more alert now, and his antennae seemed to be moving with more authority. When Liz looked out at the water, she saw that all the crustaceans were now flashing signals to each other. Unfortunately, the guards had also noticed. Their expressions had shifted from bored to wary, and their grips had tightened on their weapons.
Suddenly, two of the crustaceans surfaced at the edge of the catwalk just beside the guards. As the guards swung their rifles around, the crustaceans opened their beaks and hissed. One of the crustaceans’ tongues shot out. An instant later, the second crustacean's tongue snapped from its beak. The creatures’ tongues reminded Liz of the pink chewing gum she'd stretched from her mouth as a child. But the crustaceans’ tongues stretched all the way to the guards’ faces, which they each hit with a sharp thwack. Both guards released their rifles and reached for their faces, but their knees were already giving way beneath them. By the time they hit the catwalk, both were unconscious.
"Injuries are not serious,” Glimmer rasped. His voice sounded stronger now, sharper. “Guards will wake when toxin runs its course."
Glimmer's body had straightened, his exoskeleton apparently stiffening so that he now stood taller than Liz and Tobias. His movements also appeared crisper, more in control, giving Liz the impression that his metamorphosis was nearing completion.
"We need to get out of here,” Tobias said. “We need to find a communications console."
The signals between the crustaceans were now so intense that the waves of color glinted off the damp walls of the hold. The creatures were all swimming toward the catwalk, their bodies dripping as they pulled themselves up out of the water with their multiple segmented arms.
"You need do nothing,” Glimmer said. “Best we take charge from here."
Tobias shook his head. “I don't think that's a good idea—” he began. His attention was so focused on Glimmer that he didn't see the tongue that snapped from the beak of the crustacean climbing out of the water beside him. Glimmer managed to grab him with two of his forearms as he fell, lowering him gently to the catwalk.
"Sorry to exclude you from what is to happen,” the large crustacean said to Liz. “We owe you much. But you are safer here."
"What are you going to do?” she exclaimed, stunned by the sudden turn of events. Then she felt something heavy and wet hit her cheek. Instinctively, she reached up to swipe it away, but before her fingers reached her face, she felt her consciousness fading. As Glimmer reached out to catch her, her mind slipped into darkness.
* * * *
Liz awoke slumped against the cushions of an acceleration chair. Tobias shifted in the seat beside her, just beginning to awaken. Straightening, she looked over the back of the chair behind her. Superintendent Cantrell and the rest of the crew from the transport ship were asleep in the chai
rs along either side of the isle that ran from the navigation console at the front of the vessel to the bulkhead at the rear. They were on the transport ship's crew shuttle, a vessel substantially larger than the small shuttle she and Tobias had taken down to Slag. The captain and copilot from the transport were already awake, checking the vessel's status on the navigation console in front of her. As best she could tell, the shuttle was hanging motionless in space, with no sign of the larger transport ship out of any of the windows.
"What happened?” Cantrell muttered in a groggy voice behind her.
"It would appear you've lost your ship,” Tobias said. He was completely awake now, peering out the window on his side of the shuttle.
Cantrell lurched from his seat and stumbled up the isle toward the front of the vessel. “What's going on?” he demanded from the captain. “Where's our ship?"
"That's it right there,” the captain said. He pointed at a blip on the multicolored navigational schematic on the monitor in front of him.
"It can't be,” Cantrell said. He leaned over the captain's chair to study the screen more closely. “That ship's more than nine light-years out."
"Nine point six,” the copilot said, glancing up at him.
"Does Fleet Command know what's happening?” Cantrell asked.
"Looks that way,” the captain said. “They've got three high-speed caravels in pursuit. There, there, and there.” He pointed to three additional blips trailing after the first one.
"How long till they catch up?” Cantrell asked.
"They aren't going to catch up,” the captain said.
"What do you mean, they aren't going to catch up?"
"The transport's pulling away."
"Pulling away?” Cantrell said.
The captain nodded. “In fact, I'd say we're going to lose track of it any moment now. Our sensors aren't calibrated to track this kind of acceleration."
"Come on,” Cantrell scoffed. “It's a mining transport."
The captain grimaced. “Not anymore. Someone's modified the engines."
"Modified them how?"
"You got me,” the captain said, shaking his head. “It's way beyond anything we know about. Looks to me like they're accelerating at an exponential rate."
Suddenly the lead blip vanished from the display.
"That's it,” the captain said. “They're gone."
"Gone?” Cantrell said, blinking.
The captain settled back in his chair. “They're accelerating too fast for our sensors to follow them."
As an archaeologist, Liz didn't understand how they managed to track objects that were moving faster than the speed of light, but it was clear that the freighter had surpassed the capabilities of human science.
"We've got a message coming in,” the captain said. “It's from the Arrow."
Advocate Lassiter's face appeared in the display. Dressed in a neatly pressed purple robe, he was seated behind a desk in his stateroom. “Well, I see you're finally awake,” he said. “What do you have to say for yourself?"
"We're still trying to figure out what happened,” Cantrell said. “But believe me, we're going to get to the bottom of this.” He glared back over his shoulder at Liz and Tobias.
"Don't bother,” Lassiter said. “We already know what happened. We downloaded your ship's log right after we lost contact with you. I'll send you a copy. I'm sure you'll find it enlightening."
"Enlightening?” Cantrell said.
Lassiter forced a sour smile. “Indeed. While you were busy twiddling your thumbs, the worms—as you called them—managed to escape from the hold and shut off your oxygen. Everyone onboard lost consciousness before you realized what was happening. Then they put you on your crew shuttle and set off for parts unknown with your ship."
"What parts unknown?” Cantrell demanded with a confused scowl. “What are you talking about?"
The advocate ignored his question. “I assume Dr. Tobias and Ensign McBride are all right."
"Yeah, they're all right.” Cantrell again glared back at Liz. “For the time being."
"Yes. Well make sure they stay that way."
"Wait a minute,” Cantrell growled. His eyes narrowed. “You're talking like this is my fault."
"You're the one who just lost his ship,” Lassiter said. “Not to mention your cargo. At this point, I can only urge you to make absolutely sure that nothing—I repeat, nothing—happens to Tobias and McBride. Do I make myself clear?"
"But they're—"
"They're our only link with the Anunnaki, you fool!"
"The Anunnaki?” Cantrell blurted. “What are you talking about?"
Lassiter gave a sardonic laugh. “Don't tell me you haven't figured it out yet?"
"Figured out what?"
"The worms, Superintendent. They were Anunnaki—the original crew of the wreckage we found in orbit around Slag."
Cantrell drew back, staring into the monitor. “But they can't be. That wreckage has been out there for more than a thousand years."
Advocate Lassiter's pink lips tightened with contempt as he leaned forward. “You've already made the biggest mistake in the history of the Fleet, Superintendent. Just make sure you don't screw anything else up!"
"But I . . . I . . .” Cantrell began, but it was already too late. Advocate Lassiter had broken the connection.
* * * *
Cantrell turned slowly away from the screen. “The Anunnaki?” he mumbled, shaking his head. “How could they be Anunnaki? They were worms."
"What?” Tobias chuckled. “You don't think the Anunnaki could be worms?"
"Well, no. I mean, even those things they turned into—those roaches—they didn't look human."
Tobias laughed. “And, of course, any fool knows they couldn't be Anunnaki if they didn't look human. I mean, really, what else could they possibly look like?"
"They really were Anunnaki, weren't they?” Liz said. Her voice was filled with wonder as she gazed out the window in the direction the ship had gone. “I never realized how much they looked like the drawings from old Earth."
Tobias shrugged. “Anunnaki is as good a name for them as any, I suppose. But whoever they were, my guess is they experienced a problem with their ship. They managed to reach Slag, but with a hydrogen sulfide atmosphere, there was no way they could survive. Especially not on a surface as unstable as Slag's. So they did the only thing they could do. They used the local life-forms, the ones that had evolved on Slag, to preserve their individual identities until they had a chance to escape."
"Come on,” Cantrell said. “You don't expect us to believe the Anunnaki turned themselves into a bunch of worms?"
"Actually, that's exactly what they did,” Tobias said. “Each individual added his DNA to the DNA of a group of worms. That way none of them was dependent on any single worm to be sure his DNA would be replicated down through the generations as the worms reproduced. Which meant that when the time to escape finally arrived, there were plenty of copies from which each of them could regenerate itself."
"And their introns—” Liz said. “That's how they recorded their memories, isn't it?"
Tobias nodded. “There was too much data to fit into the DNA of a single worm, so they spread their memories across multiple worms, which is why they came together in bundles when they needed to access their higher neurological functions. Basically, they replicated their individual identities in a kind of distributed network. It wasn't a solution nature ever came up with, but it worked for them. In fact, it's probably the only solution that would have worked on Slag. DNA is the perfect mechanism for recording data and storing it down through the generations. In this case, it held all the information necessary to regenerate both the bodies and the memories of the entire Anunnaki crew."
"And that's why they had to modify Slag's ecology, isn't it?” Liz said. “Because hydrogen sulfide didn't give the worms enough energy to communicate among themselves."
"At least, not at the levels they needed,” Tobias said. “Not
with the light signals they use."
Cantrell grunted. “Yeah? Well, they weren't all that smart. In case you forgot, they left a whole bunch of themselves back on Slag. All we have to do is go down, grab ourselves another handful, and wait for them to regenerate themselves."
"I don't think so,” Tobias said. “When we get back to Slag, I suspect we're going to find that the remaining worms self-destructed just like those in the hold."
"Right,” Cantrell laughed disparagingly. “Like they'd really all kill themselves just so a few of them could get away."
Tobias shook his head. “It didn't work that way. Like I said, the Anunnaki knew they couldn't count on any single worm—or even any group of worms—to survive. So they generated lots of copies of themselves. My guess is that each individual Anunnaki duplicated both its genetic code and its memory code in the DNA of thousands, maybe even millions, of worms that then reproduced and migrated under the ice until they pretty much covered the entire moon. That's why we found a few worms that had identical introns. They were duplicates, what you might call backups."
"So if some of them got washed out from under the ice and were killed, there'd be others to take their places,” Liz said.
"Exactly,” Tobias said. “Only a few hundred had to come together to support the higher-level neurological functions of any single Anunnaki, which meant that any large sampling we put together would probably contain the functional DNA and the specific memories for all the original Anunnaki, given that they were evenly distributed across Slag's surface."
"But what about all the potential bundles we left behind?” Liz said. “Weren't they . . . I don't know . . . like clones?"
"I don't think so,” Tobias said. “They would have been like clones if the very same worms came together each time a colony formed to perform the higher-level neurological functions of its particular Anunnaki. But it didn't work that way. The worms were constantly on the move, constantly carrying newly learned information from one iteration of their specific Anunnaki to another. That's how they kept themselves in synch, so to speak. Which means that it was really the pattern they created when they came together that constituted an Anunnaki, not the specific worms. Don't think of the worms as physical pieces of an Anunnaki; think of them as memories. If the same memory exists in two different places, it's still just one memory."
Analog SFF, June 2010 Page 6
