by Fonda Lee
Donovan started for the Comm Hub building, but a couple of other officers waved to get his attention and pointed him toward a far corner of the field where a sizable crowd of humans was gathering. Donovan saw the unmistakeable figure of Commander Tate among them. In the dim light, Tate looked haggard almost beyond recognition. She was not striding about or shouting orders as usual but standing quietly with those gathered around her. Donovan had seen his commander in victory and in defeat but never had he seen her battered by such terrible loss to the officer corps that she’d led for so many years. She gave a single nod at the approach of each person, a fractional amount of tension easing with each face she recognized, as if to say: Good, he’s alive. And he’s alive. And she’s alive as well.
Donovan had not imagined that a group of soldiers-in-erze could look so ruined. Men and women were openly weeping. Some fell on one another in relief to find their friends alive. Many wore blank expressions, their shock and bewilderment still too fresh, compounded by the guilt of being here when equally deserving erze mates were not. Donovan searched frantically until he saw Cass, sitting in the grass at the edge of the crowd, hugging herself, her gaze distant and downcast.
He hurried to her and touched her on the shoulder. She looked up at him slowly, her eyes dry but swollen and Leon’s blood still on her hands and clothes. When Donovan knelt beside her, a flicker of renewed alarm crossed her face. “Where’s Jet?” Cass’s voice was raw, hoarse.
“He’s fine.” Donovan spoke quietly. “He’s with Vic. She and Thad were brought to the hospital just as we were leaving. They’re pretty badly hurt.”
Cass’s throat moved in a dry swallow. “They made me leave him,” she whispered angrily. “A Soldier picked me up and carried me away.”
At that moment, Commander Tate cleared her throat for their attention. It was an unusually subdued sound, but in the near silence, they all heard it and turned toward her. Donovan put an arm around Cass and together they got to their feet. Tate surveyed the gathered officers with a leaden gaze. “The zhree zun have taken over the Comm Hub building as a base of operations in order to communicate with the other Rounds and discuss what’s to be done next. So I’m afraid this is the best we can do for now.” Tate’s hands shook as she unfolded her glasses and put them on. For a long moment, the commander stared down at the screen in her hands; she didn’t seem to be seeing the words. Tate pulled her glasses off again and looked up. “First, a moment of silence for the erze mates who aren’t with us anymore.”
Silence fell over bowed heads. Donovan could hear the footsteps and background musical burble of conversation from the Soldiers walking about in the field, accompanied by the usual machine sounds of weapons checks and the hum of vehicles in the streets. Standing out here, mere feet away from a bustling camp full of Soldiers, only highlighted the wrongness of the moment, the inescapable truth that the erze had been severely maimed. Beside him, Cass took a shuddering breath. Leon. Donovan recited the names of the erze mates he knew had been lost. Tennyson. Lucius. Matias. Nicodemus. Leander. So many others he didn’t know about yet.
Commander Tate cleared her throat again and, consulting her notes, began to speak. “Earth was attacked last night by an advance force of Rii Hunters. The source of the attack came from a stealth vessel that transferred into the solar system in the signal shadow of a civilian cargo ship scheduled to dock in orbit for trade and refueling. Upon entering Earth’s orbit, the Rii vessel broke away and released five occupied surface-landing spores that separated and proceeded to Rounds One, Three, Ten, Twelve, and Seventeen.
“At the same time, the Rii ship launched targeted warheads at many of Earth’s largest human cities including Los Angeles, Mexico City, Jakarta, Karachi, Moscow, Shanghai, Mumbai, and New Cairo, among others. Orbital defenses destroyed the Rii ship and most of the missiles were shot down before they reached their destinations, but some made it through. We’re still receiving damage and casualty reports from around the world. It might be a while before we get the full picture.
“It appears the missile bombardment was intended as cover for the five spore vessels to reach their destinations. At Round Twelve, the spore missed its coordinates and landed outside the wall. The invading party was destroyed in heavy fighting. Round One also repelled the attack. But the Towers of Rounds Three, Ten, and Seventeen are now under Rii occupation.”
Shocked and angry murmurs ran through the assembled soldiers-in-erze. “It’s because we couldn’t fight them,” Sebastian exclaimed, loudly enough for everyone to hear him. “Our exocels stopped working the second we needed them the most!”
Shouts of agreement rose at once. “No one warned us!”
“It was a slaughter. We were no better than squishies out there.”
“How many exos died last night for no reason?”
A day ago, Donovan couldn’t have imagined soldiers-in-erze shouting at Commander Tate in such a disorderly manner, nor Tate ever allowing such a breakdown of discipline. Yet now she let the raw emotion of the officers run loud, and after a minute, Donovan realized that she was staring steadily past them to a spot beyond the crowd. When Donovan turned to follow her gaze, he saw Soldier Werth standing motionless behind them.
How long he’d been there, Donovan had no idea. Certainly long enough to have heard the uproar. The commotion had even reached the notice of the Soldiers sharing the field; several of them had paused behind Werth and were watching the humans as well. Instinctively, Donovan stiffened and dropped his armor, causing Cass to look over her shoulder, and a couple of seconds later, everyone else had turned, and an abrupt, uncomfortable silence descended like a curtain.
Soldier Werth stepped forward into the cluster of humans, which parted for him. A wave of receding armor followed, but the sudden quiet did not dispel the tension that seemed to stretch from person to person, through tense jaws and clenched fists and angry expressions, like a taut, invisible web with Commander Tate anchoring one end and Soldier Werth the other. Werth’s alien expression was unreadable as his eyes swept over the diminished ranks of exos. Donovan wondered if the erze master was noticing who was here and who was missing.
“Speaking to your commander with such disrespect is not in erze behavior for soldiers.” The translation machine behind Soldier Werth repeated the words in a cold, flat rebuke that made more than a few stripes wince. “Particularly as she is not to blame for the losses you’ve suffered.” Werth stopped in place. Commander Tate still said nothing, and Donovan, looking between them, understood that Tate had not put a halt to the turmoil because she’d wanted Werth to hear it all—the despair and fury of the humans who wore his markings on their hands.
“I am the one to blame,” Werth said matter-of-factly. “We are—the Mur colonists who first brought humans-in-erze and granted you exocellular technology but let you remain in ignorance of its limitations. Last night, you saw the tragic consequences. Exos were never meant to fight zhree—Mur or Rii.”
“You can change that.” The words left Donovan’s mouth before he really knew what he was doing. Everyone stared at him. With a pang of chagrin, he realized that his months of being an adviser to the zhree zun had accustomed him to speaking above his rank, directly to Soldier Werth. He’d forgotten how rude and unusual it appeared under other circumstances. Swallowing his discomfort, Donovan kept his armor respectfully lowered as he stepped forward.
He was remembering suddenly the memory discs sitting in a small envelope in his desk drawer at home, posthumously sent to his father by the assassinated scientist-in-erze, Dr. Ghosh. He’d all but forgotten about them in the tumultuous months since Gur’s arrival. They hadn’t seemed that important—until now. Only now did it seem obvious that his father must have considered the possibility of an eventual Rii attack—and secretly set about to prepare for it.
“Zun Werth,” Donovan said, his excitement rising, “the exocel inhibition reflex is just a neural connection in the part of the brain tied to aggression.” If a human scientist-in-erze
had discovered how the reflex arc worked, and could even suggest a possible way to jam it, then surely the Nurses in charge of human Hardening would know as well. “You could remove the trip wire. Without it, we could fight the Rii. There are at least as many soldiers-in-erze as there are Soldiers. We could help take back the Towers.”
Donovan glanced at Commander Tate. Tate’s eyes were narrowed in warning, and Donovan could feel her unspoken question raking over him: How do you know this? Since when did you become a neuroscientist, Reyes?
A palpable change had come over the assembled exos, who shifted in closer, nodding and murmuring agreement. Their grief was not diminished, but they were soldiers. They wanted to act, to take revenge against the Hunters who had invaded their home and killed their erze mates.
“No.” The word was as curt and final in Mur as it was in English, and it cut down the rising eagerness of the crowd like a scythe. Soldier Werth’s multiple eyes held Donovan in a stare as hard as iron. “What you suggest is not possible.”
“But …” Blood rushed into Donovan’s face. Werth was wrong, or lying. Or worse, simply refusing. “Zun, you’ve always said that you personally chose each one of us for the erze. This thing in our brains—maybe it made sense to the colonists a hundred years ago, but it doesn’t anymore. If you really do have faith in us, you’d let us fight. You’d treat us the way you treat your Soldiers.”
“This is not a matter of my confidence in your abilities.” Soldier Werth’s voice was low, bordering on threat. “The inhibition reflex can’t be removed.”
“Can’t?” Donovan said through gritted teeth. “Or won’t?”
“Reyes, that’s enough,” Commander Tate said. “This isn’t the—”
“Soldier Werth!” Soldier Gur’s accented voice rang out as he crossed the field, Administrator Seir following a few paces behind.
Slowly, Werth shifted his gaze. “Zun,” he said, dropping armor.
Gur surveyed the gathered humans, pausing curiously on Donovan, who was still standing in front of the others. Trying not to look too hasty, Donovan kept his armor down and took a step back into the crowd. He suspected Gur had heard the last few seconds of angry conversation and was wondering why an exo would be arguing so heatedly with his erze master.
Gur’s attention returned to Werth. “You’ve had a chance to check over your humans, then? It appears as if most of them survived?”
“At least those you see here, zun,” Werth said.
“Good,” Gur said. The translation machine began to repeat him in English; Gur turned it off. “Administrator Seir and I were discussing to what extent human casualties would affect the evacuation plans, but fortunately, you have enough exos that there is a sizable pool to draw from even with losses to the first selection round.” Gur paused thoughtfully. “We will have to completely redo the selection from Round One, however, given the particularly high number of fatalities there.”
“Rounds One and Twelve suffered heavy casualties because they fought until every invading Hunter was killed,” Soldier Werth said. “Your Soldiers were not stationed there to give the order to retreat and surrender their Towers to the enemy.”
It was suddenly apparent that nearly all the background noise had vanished. Every zhree on the field was watching the exchange between the two Soldiers. Donovan thought he glimpsed those with Werth’s markings shifting forward discreetly, fins flattening. Thinking back more clearly on the confusion and madness of the battle, Donovan remembered that Werth’s troops had seemed to be winning. They’d been charging forward into the Towers when Gur’s Soldiers had given the order to fall back. They had not looked happy about it then and they did not look happy about it now.
Soldier Gur’s smallish eyes were flinty. A few of his own Soldiers drew nearer to him. “I do not approve of your tone, Soldier Werth,” Gur said. “It suggests you are questioning my mandate from the Homeworld Council to secure the safety of Mur colonists on this planet and to wield erze authority in the best interests of the Commonwealth.”
“Soldier Gur,” Administrator Seir interjected, “that is the shared goal of all erze zun, regardless of whether we were hatched on the homeworld or not.” Seir’s fins seemed to be moving too quickly. Donovan had never seen the highest Administrator on Earth appear nervous before. The tension was affecting the Soldiers, and even though not all the humans could understand what was being said, they could feel it as well—panotin was rising quickly across skin and armored hulls alike.
One of Soldier Werth’s fins gave a small twitch. Then he spread them and dropped his armor. “I apologize if I gave the wrong impression,” he said. “I would not presume to question a more senior Soldier’s judgment as to the best interests of the Commonwealth.”
The strain slackened. Armor came down and fins relaxed, though not entirely. Soldier Gur seemed cautiously appeased. “No Soldier likes to yield to the enemy. However, in this case, there was nothing to be gained from battle. We were planning to phase out our presence from this planet as it was. Indeed, this turn of events may have provided us with the opportunity to negotiate for a more favorable outcome. Rii representatives should be arriving at any minute.”
“Rii representatives,” Soldier Werth repeated slowly, “are coming here?”
“Werth, have you asked yourself why the Rii would attack now, so soon after the Homeworld Council’s decision to begin withdrawing from Earth? Why risk a battle with us instead of simply waiting to seize the planet without contest? There is only one logical possibility. I am certain the Hunters here are from Chi’tok.” Soldier Gur made a chirp-click noise that Donovan could not think of how to translate into any comparable sound in Mur much less into English. “It is the smallest but fastest-growing and most aggressive Galaxysweeper in the sector. The Rii are not unified; they compete among themselves for territory and Chi’tok has the most to gain from taking Earth. They must have learned of our intention to withdraw from this planet and decided to take a chance on sending an advance invasion party to claim the prestige of conquering a Mur colony ahead of any larger, rival Galaxysweepers.”
Soldier Gur paced away, fins snapping briskly. “A rather daring gamble on their part. One sacrificial ship, bombarding multiple human cities as a distraction for orbital defenses, while Hunters landed spore vessels in hopes of occupying at least one Round and thus securing conquest rights for Chi’tok.” Gur gave a thoughtful hum. “While successful, they are now in a precarious position until their main force arrives. They will be willing to discuss terms.”
“Discuss terms?” Administrator Seir echoed. “The Commonwealth did not discuss terms when Ortem 4 was attacked. And when Rygur was threatened, the Homeworld Council sent the Mur fleet in force to defend it, crippling a much larger Galaxysweeper than Chi’tok. Only three of the Towers on Earth have been lost. If Kreet were to send even a relatively small force—”
Soldier Gur cut Seir off with a sharp slash of his fin. “Ortem 4 and Rygur were completely different situations, Administrator. I have every reason to believe that attempting a negotiation is the proper course of action in this case. The High Speaker has given me the authority to proceed.”
Donovan was having a hard time keeping up with what was happening. He still couldn’t get past how bluntly Soldier Werth had shot him down earlier. With the zhree leaders going on about interplanetary politics and military tactics, confusing things were happening too fast. Donovan looked toward Commander Tate, hoping for direction, but her expression was stony.
“Soldier Gur,” said Administrator Seir, “perhaps we ought to delay until after we have consulted with the rest of the Rounds and with Kreet. There is—”
Seir didn’t finish because at that moment, Soldiers burst into movement, running to form a defensive semicircle, armor springing up, raised weapons pointed down the road. “What’s happening?” Cass asked in alarm. At the edge of the field, rounding the entrance to SecPac’s campus, came a vehicle such as Donovan had never seen before—an open, ovoid mobile platf
orm with mounted artillery and articulated legs not unlike a SecPac assault scrambler, but with six Hunters riding on the uppermost tier of the carrier. At the sight of them, musical muttering and low whistles of profanity ran through the ranks of Werth’s Soldiers and the effect it had on the humans wasn’t much better—the exos backed away hastily, hands reaching for weapons.
“Hold!” Soldier Gur commanded.
The vehicle stopped. An amplified voice let out a string of chirping, chittering, clicking noises that sounded like a monstrous bird’s mating call. A second later, a scratchy-sounding translation machine sang out in badly rendered Mur: “Who of erze zun on this planet with authority to parlay?”
Administrator Seir began to respond, but Soldier Gur stepped forward and called out, “I am Soldier erze zun Gur, senior military adviser to the Homeworld Council of Kreet, acting with full authority on behalf of the High Speaker of the Mur Erzen Commonwealth.” He walked in his deliberate, limping way toward the Rii Hunters. Half a dozen of his Soldiers fell immediately into a flanking curve behind him.
There was a pause before the Rii replied, “We bring you to Towers to speak with Chief Hunter Shrii’meep.”
“Very good,” said Gur.
Werth followed. “I ought to accompany you, zun Gur,” he insisted in a low strum. “The High Speaker may have given you authority here, but any negotiation with the enemy will require someone more knowledgeable when it comes to the specifics of Earth.”
“The presence of one Soldier erze zun is sufficient for this meeting, Soldier Werth,” Gur said curtly, continuing ahead. “Let’s not confuse the situation.”
Werth stopped, his exocel thickening around his yellow eyes. “The bodies of my Soldiers and humans-in-erze,” he called after Gur, loud enough for the Rii Hunters up in the platform to hear. “I want them returned for proper atomization.”
