by Fonda Lee
“They … yes …” Wylt fixed two yellow eyes on Donovan, bewildered. “Clearly, there are a few stragglers coming in from outside the Round. Not to worry; I’ll take care of it from here, zun Grier.”
“Do so,” rebuked the other Soldier with a fin flick of disdain.
Once the other zhree had departed down the road and was out of earshot, Wylt said, “Donovan, what in the Highest State of Erze are you doing here? Why aren’t you with the other soldiers-in-erze?”
“I was in the Ring Belt, zun.” Donovan hurried over to the back of the truck and opened it. Wylt’s fins shot up in surprise at the sight of Kevin, tied up and just beginning to stir again. “He’s a criminal, zun Wylt, one of the world’s most dangerous humans. He’s killed dozens of people, and this”—he took the metal box from the floor of the cab and handed it carefully to Wylt—“contains a chemical weapon he was planning to use to kill countless more.”
“How did you—” Wylt’s gaze fell on Dr. Nakada. “Who’s that other human you have with you? He appears to be gravely injured.”
“He’s a former scientist-in-erze with an awful lot of valuable information. It’s hard to explain. And yes, he’s going to die unless he gets medical help right away.” Donovan took off his comm unit, enabled location tracking, and sent a single message to Commander Tate: I HAVE SOMETHING FOR YOU. Then he tossed the comm unit onto the front seat of the truck.
Donovan turned to Wylt and dropped his armor in entreating obeisance. “Zun, I need to get this man to the hospital. Commander Tate and SecPac officers will be here soon. Can you make sure that this man and those vials get safely into their hands? Please.”
Wylt regarded him suspiciously. “You’re up to something.” The certainty in the Soldier’s voice made Donovan go completely still. He’d asked for Wylt in order to get free of Grier, but this might end the same way. If a zhree of his own erze decided to detain him, there was nothing he could do.
Wylt said flatly, “Do you know what you’re doing?”
“About as much as I did when I walked into that algae farm.”
Wylt didn’t move at first. Then he dipped one fin in a curt nod. “Take a skimmercar from the garage, but stay off the spoke roads and don’t let any more of Gur’s Soldiers catch you out of bounds.”
Donovan sprinted across the SecPac campus. He was sweaty and breathing hard by the time he got to the Comm Hub building, but thankfully, he wasn’t accosted by anyone else along the way. Several skimmercars were parked in the building’s hangar-sized garage. There was no human or zhree in sight. As relieved as he was, the sight struck Donovan as unusual; where was everyone? SecPac’s campus was weirdly empty, even of Soldiers. The large field had been a crowded zhree military camp just a few days ago; now it looked as if it had been partially taken down and held less than a quarter of the troops that it did before.
Donovan took one of SecPac’s unmarked skimmercars and drove it back to where Wylt waited with the pickup truck. “Come on, Doctor.” Panting, Donovan heaved the unconscious man from the truck. To his surprise, Wylt came to his aid, picking Nakada up easily and placing him inside the skimmercar. Donovan was reminded that it had been only two days ago that he and Wylt had worked side by side, collecting the dead from around the Towers. Perhaps the Soldier felt as if he’d seen enough dead humans lately because his fins moved in a grimace as he looked down at Nakada’s unresponsive form. “It appears as if you’d better hurry.”
Donovan dropped his armor again in thanks, then got into the car and sped away from SecPac property. He did as Wylt had instructed, veering away from the main roads and taking a circuitous route through the Round to reach the hospital that had recently become far too familiar. When he reached it, he pulled up to the emergency room entrance and leapt out.
Hospital staff hurried over when he staggered into the lobby with Dr. Nakada in his arms. Nakada was taken from him and placed on a stretcher. Medics surrounded them and called out vital signs: the scientist was breathing, but his pulse was weak and his blood pressure was dangerously low. A minute later, the stretcher was rushed down the hall and Donovan was alone.
Everything caught up to him at once. He moved numbly to the nearest chair and fell into it, dropping his head into his hands. Whether Nakada lived or died now was out of his control. He’d done what he could. But it wasn’t what he’d hoped for at all. His plan had gone completely, disastrously awry. With a heaviness in his gut, he knew he’d changed nothing.
A hand fell hard on his shoulder, pulling him upright in the chair and turning him around roughly. Donovan looked up and flinched at the sight of Jet’s angry face. His partner’s voice was a snarl of disbelief.
“Have you completely lost your mind?”
“You didn’t answer me when I comm’ed you about a hundred times. You didn’t show up as ordered this morning. Tate declared you AWOL. Where have you been? And what the hell happened to you?”
Donovan got to his feet. He could only imagine how he must look—battered, bloodstained, disheveled, his clothing a ragged mess. Jet appeared far from well himself: his face was stubbled and his eyes were so darkly ringed they looked bruised. Donovan winced with shame, though after their hurtful parting yesterday he was almost relieved his partner even cared enough to look so murderous.
All he could manage to say was, “How did you know I was here?”
“I didn’t. You sent me Ghosh’s research files without any explanation, so I came to show them to Therrid. He told me what you asked him to do.”
“He refused. Just like Soldier Werth.”
“So you left the Round.” Jet’s lips were pulled back. “You went to her, didn’t you? To the sapes.”
“I found Eugene Nakada.”
“Of course you did.” Jet’s tone was acidic. “We’ve been hunting the traitor for nearly a year and you suddenly manage to find him in one day.”
“I did it by getting beaten up and nearly shot in the face outside a Sapience hideout, Jet. The only way I could get their cooperation was to explain everything—Soldier Gur, the Rii, the evacuation, everything.” Donovan gripped his partner’s arm insistently. “Nakada says he can do it. He can use Ghosh’s research to disable the trip wire on human exocels. That’s what we need—not a zhree plan to evacuate one percent of humans, but something that’ll even the odds for the ninety-nine percent left on Earth.”
Jet stared at him. “So where’s Nakada?”
Donovan let go of Jet’s arm. “In an operating room. He got shot in the stomach. Kevin Warde and one of his pals showed up, and … it’s a long story.”
Jet ran an agitated hand through his hair. “You have to stop this. What you’re doing will screw up everything and get you killed.” Jet seized Donovan by the elbow. “You have to come with me, right now. I’ll explain along the—”
The distinctive sound of zhree footsteps on hard flooring made Jet stop in mid-motion. Nurse Therrid came hurrying across the lobby and skidded to a sudden halt, fins fanning. “Donovan? What are you doing here?”
Jet took a step back from Donovan but didn’t take his eyes off him. “Zun Therrid, my partner is out of erze. He disobeyed orders and left the Round to reveal sensitive information to Sapience terrorists. I’m under orders from Commander Tate to detain him and inform her as soon as he’s found—for the security of the erze as well as his own safety.”
Donovan’s stomach plummeted. He stared at Jet in betrayal.
Nurse Therrid’s yellow eyes were wide. He clamped a set of pincers firmly around Donovan’s arm. In as stern and commanding a voice as Donovan had ever heard from him, he said, “Come with me. Both of you.”
Jet followed behind as Therrid steered Donovan across the lobby of the emergency room. The place no longer looked like a military infirmary. The injured soldiers-in-erze were gone, the chairs back in their usual place. A few non-Hardened patients watched as they passed. Therrid led them down a hallway.
“Where are you taking me?” Donovan demanded.
&n
bsp; The Nurse opened a door into an extremely plain room, with a simple bed and a small window. Donovan suspected it was used to house psychiatric patients. “Vercingetorix,” Therrid said, “do you have a set of restraints?”
Jet’s dark eyes were apologetic but unflinching as he pulled a pair of handcuffs from his duty belt and handed them over to Nurse Therrid without a word.
“Zun Therrid,” Donovan pleaded. “Wait—”
“I’m sorry to have to do this.” Therrid fastened one of the cuffs to the railing of the bed, then seized Jet’s arm and slapped the other over his wrist.
Jet was too stunned to react at first. In an instant, another two of Therrid’s limbs snatched Jet’s comm unit, gun, and keys from his belt. The Nurse stepped away at once, pushing Donovan back toward the door.
Jet yanked on the handcuffs, ringing metal against metal. “What the—” Understanding and fury lit across his face as armor raced over his arms. “Therrid, what are you doing?” Jet tried to follow them, wrenching against the restraints so violently that on a non-Hardened person the force would’ve broken the wrist. Donovan was so taken aback he jerked and nearly went to Jet’s aid. Nurse Therrid tugged him from the room.
“Your commitment to duty is admirable, Vercingetorix. I couldn’t ask you to disobey orders, but I’m afraid I can’t have you interfering or informing anyone,” Therrid strummed regretfully. “Please don’t hurt yourself, hatchling.”
“You double-crossing shroom,” Jet shouted. “Donovan! Don’t do this!” His voice cracked in rising desperation. “I can’t … not both of them …”
Therrid shut the door behind them. It locked with a click, muffling Jet’s howl of frustration. Donovan’s heart was hammering. He stared at Therrid in disbelief. “Hurry,” the Nurse said, and took off down the hall. Donovan cast a final look at the room with his now-imprisoned partner, then raced after Therrid.
There was a trainee nurse-in-erze, no older than fourteen or fifteen, tidying up the operating room when they burst in. “Find Sanjay and send him here,” Therrid ordered, and the girl dropped her armor and obeyed at once, running out of the room. With two limbs, the Nurse began positioning a machine that looked like a laser beam emitter while a third limb tapped the controls on the table’s medical scanning arm. “Thank all erze the equipment and supplies I requested arrived this morning,” Therrid muttered in a hum. “Too late for poor Tamaravick and so many others, but at least I now have a proper, if limited, medical facility to work with. Lie back, Donovan.”
Still speechless, Donovan lay down on the table. Therrid grasped his left arm and pressed a small device to one of the nodes just above his elbow. A stinging sensation spread down Donovan’s limb and his exocel fell away from the joint down. “With your injuries, any amount of exocel suppressant is inadvisable right now, but local suppression shouldn’t be too risky.” Therrid slid a needle into the vein on the inside of Donovan’s left unarmored elbow, then reached across the table with another limb and took Donovan’s right hand.
“Armor your fingers and squeeze,” Therrid said. “Do your best to hurt me. Once the exocel inhibition reflex is triggered, the nanotracer I injected will pinpoint the neuronal circuit so the radiosurgical beams can triangulate on it.”
Donovan said, “You can cut the connection with radiation beams?”
“It’s a crude approach, but it’s the best I can do without access to the full suite of nanosurgical equipment in the Towers. I believe it’ll still work.”
“Dr. Nakada was going to insert an electrode into my brain.”
“A what?” Nurse Therrid looked aghast; he let out a soft, mortified whistle, his fins shuddering and seeming to shrink into his body. “Highest State of Erze, you were going to let a human open your skull?”
Sanjay came into the room, and Donovan was saved from answering. Therrid directed his nurse-in-erze to lock the door and start monitoring the medical scanner over Donovan’s head, which was beginning to blink images on the screen. At Therrid’s prompting, Donovan serrated the fingers of his right hand and imagined ripping off Soldier Gur’s fins.
Nurse Therrid gave a stifled trill of discomfort as Donovan’s grip crushed down, armor on armor. Donovan’s exocel wavered and began to fall. “That’s sufficient,” Therrid said, wincing. He looked at the scans, then consulted a computing disc held up to one eye by another limb. “The scientist-in-erze Vincent Ghosh was remarkably accurate in his conclusions.”
Sanjay injected him with a sedative and in seconds Donovan felt it kicking in, putting him pleasantly at ease. He held on to the Nurse’s pincers. “You wouldn’t help me before, zun Therrid. Why are you helping me now?”
Nurse Therrid paused. Two of his eyes focused on Donovan for a long moment. Then he hummed a sigh, his fins sinking slightly. “The last time I refused to listen to you and tried to keep you safe from the algae farm standoff, you circumvented me and acted anyway. I should have reported you, but … what you did was heroic, Donovan. You were disobedient, but you saved zhree and human lives. I’ve been reminded lately that humans have social values and dynamics that are different from ours. It’s what makes you such a fascinating species, and perhaps I … should have paid attention to what you were saying.”
Therrid shut the eyes facing Donovan and focused his gaze elsewhere, his voice shifting as his fin movements turned stiff. “I’ve been grieving every exo whom I couldn’t save these past several days, but what you said is true: that number is tiny compared to the millions more who will be left behind to face the Rii after we evacuate. I can’t change Homeworld Council decisions, but if you’re so determined to do what you believe is right that you would go against all your erze instincts and act alone in the most reckless manner imaginable, then … I can do the same. I can give the exos who remain a better chance.”
Donovan felt the Nurse’s cool touch on his brow, turning his head slightly to the side, and then pressure was applied first to the node at the crown of his head, and then several more in a row down to the nape of his neck. The same stinging sensation spread across his scalp, over the muscles of his face and jaw, dropping all the panotin from his skin. “Lie still. It’ll be over soon.”
Donovan wasn’t sure how long the procedure took, but he drifted into a state of half-conscious slumber while the machine over his head whirred and repositioned itself. His eyes grew heavy and fell shut. When he opened them again, the machine was still and silent. Jet was there, staring down at him with an unreadable expression on his face. Donovan blinked. “Jet.”
“It’s been hard to stand here and not throttle you.” Jet’s voice was low and without warmth, but the corners of his eyes squeezed down, betraying his relief.
“How did you—” Donovan began.
The fins and domed torso of Nurse Therrid appeared in the periphery of Donovan’s vision. “I thought it best to release your erze mate from his confinement before he destroyed the room.” Therrid seemed to be keeping a wary distance from Jet. “Considering how angry he was at me, I can now appreciate why the early colonists designed the exocel inhibition reflex to begin with.”
“That was a low trick, zun Therrid,” Jet growled.
“Having pranks played on me over the years by a pair of mischievous human hatchlings taught me a few useful things,” Nurse Therrid replied.
Donovan sat up slowly. He didn’t feel particularly different, which was to say, he still felt like crap—bruised and exhausted. He put a hand to the back of his head. His nodes were still numb. “Well? Did it work?”
“The scans look fine, but we won’t know for sure until the exocel suppressant wears off, which shouldn’t take long.” Therrid helped Donovan to his feet. Jet hopped onto the table Donovan had vacated.
“Vercingetorix … we ought to wait to be certain.”
Jet shook his head, his mouth set. “We don’t have time for that. I’ll take the same chance D did. Just get it done so I can get him out of here.”
“Jet, what are you doing?” Donovan felt as
if his thoughts were moving sluggishly through soup. “I made the decision to go out of erze on this, but there’s no reason for you to do the same. You’d lose your evacuation spot.”
“We’re not evacuating,” Jet said.
“Vic wanted you to go. You can use the family allowance to try to save your mom. I took this risk on my own because I didn’t want to drag you—”
“You’re not listening.” Jet jumped back off the table and seized Donovan by the front of the shirt. “We’re not evacuating. I was trying to tell you that earlier.” Jet released him roughly. “Yesterday, while you were running around on your lunatic scheme instead of being where you belonged, the rest of us reported to Central Command. We were supposed to receive further evacuation instructions, but Commander Tate refused them. She announced that she’s countermanding Soldier Gur’s orders. We took a stand together, just like you said we ought to. None of the soldiers-in-erze are leaving. Tate’s been in secret communication with the SecPac commanders in all the other Rounds and they’re standing together on this. We’re all out of erze now.”
Donovan stared at Jet. “What changed Commander Tate’s mind?”
“What changed all of our minds, I suppose. The Hunters attacking and occupying the Towers, losing our people because of this handicap in our brains, Gur ordering the healthy exos to abandon the injured ones.” Jet let out a tight breath. “Commander Tate said it straight up yesterday: for the first time, our erze duty is different—and more important—than erze orders.”
Donovan strived to process this. “So … what happened?”
“Soldier Gur’s scorching mad. Soldiers-in-erze make up over a third of the exos he was planning to have on that ship by the end of the week and we messed up his plans completely. There isn’t time for him to redo the whole selection process, and if he delays, he’s going to have to explain it to the High Speaker.”
Donovan glanced at Therrid; no wonder the Nurse had had a change of heart about tampering with the neural fail-safe. Gur’s evacuation plan was falling apart. Every exo was now at risk. “Is that why I didn’t see anyone on the SecPac campus? Why humans are restricted to certain parts of the Round?”
