Syn-En: Plague World: The Founders War Begins

by Linda Andrews

  Nell glanced back at him. “You should check yourself and Apollie, too.”

  With her hand on the scythe tucked into her belt, the Skaperian faced the shuttle’s interior. “Check me for what?”

  “Fermites.” Bei took a snapshot of the Paladin’s hand. Up close, her skin resembled Nell’s. But magnified near atomic levels, the similarities ended. Only one or two fermites penetrated her pores. The rest clumped in ridges along her skin.

  Apollie brushed her hands along her arms. “Are they on me?”

  “They don’t seem to like you.” Bei checked the seams between his prostheses. Fermites poured into his upgrades like melted butter. “They do seem to like humans.”

  “We found them in humans first.” Apollie swiped her hands down her pale legs.

  “Have you checked the Founders?”

  Nell batted her hand in front of her face. “Go away gnats.”

  Bei scanned the area in front of his wife. No insects disturbed the air. He’d bet it was the fermites.

  Apollie cleared her throat. “The only chance we had to analyze any Founders’ blood was during the war. We didn’t know the fermites existed then.”

  “You’re gonna want to see this, Bei.” Nell pointed to the starboard side of the shuttle.

  He reached her in two strides.

  A white cloud fell from the blue sky. It coasted over the river and slowed as it neared the field.

  Apollie squeezed in front of Nell. “What is it?”

  Bei’s hair prickled. His sensors picked up the intermittent pings. “I think that is Starflight 2.” The fermites had swarmed his shuttle. “Have you ever seen anything like it before?”

  “No. Never.” Apollie checked the power level on her vambrace. “Most claimed the tech failures were caused by residual energy from the Erwarians. This proves otherwise. We need to find everything we can about this weapon.”

  “Agreed, but maintain radio silence until we return to our ship.” Bei trimmed his order with steel. Just because the Skaperians had agreed to make him head of the new Neo-Sentient Alliance, didn’t mean Apollie would place the good of all above her species. “We don’t want the Founders kicking us off Surlat before we’re good and ready.”

  The grain bowed and scraped in the draft created by the shuttle’s landing. The shaggy heads drummed on his ship’s hull. Bei hoped the humans on this planet would cooperate.

  He’d just found a new use for his four-man security team—searching for the means to control the weaponized fermites.

  Chapter 9

  “The Humans have made it safely to the ground.”

  “I know.” Groat had watched the events on the forward portholes as they were relayed through the satellite on Surlat’s moon, just as Mopus had. Groat’s fingers dug into the grooves of his dented commander’s chair. “The first shuttle had difficulty.”

  Mopus steepled his long, green fingers. The turquoise cuffs of his robes slipped down his thin wrists. “Their tech is not immune to the Erwar legacy.”

  “I did not think it would be.” Neither did Groat think the Erwarians had created the atomic particles. But he had hoped, especially after the Humans had used a new form of transport. One that created its own wormhole. Such technology would be invaluable in battle. He pushed out of his dented chair. “Have you learned anything new about the fermites?”

  Mopus’s skin deepened to emerald. “No.”

  Groat locked his mandibles. Fermites were a forbidden subject among the other four Founders. They’d already been in place when the Scraptors had achieved sentience. Rumor had it the fermites had been created by one of the Founders to enslave the others, but the technology had turned on its creators. It would not be the first time a Founders’ weapon had developed a nasty side-effect.

  Light bounced off the pink armor of the new recruit at the helm. “The Nell Stafford is receiving a communication from the planet’s surface.”

  “Patch it into our com.” Groat grinned. The new Erwar rules made it easy to eavesdrop on the Neo-Sentient Alliance. The fools followed the rules to the letter. If they continued to do so, the Scraptors had all but won the war.

  “We have boots on the ground, Captain Pennig.” Beijing York’s voice crackled on the bridge.

  Groat’s claws clicked. He didn’t want the Human scum’s voice on his ship.

  Mopus rubbed his pointy chin. “No visuals?”

  “No.” Groat should have been able to see the Nell Stafford’s bridge, but something prevented it. At times, he thought the Syn-En subspecies had the capability, but then he remembered that they were Human-based. Humans had barely traveled out of their solar system. They could not possibly circumvent the Founders’ technology.

  “Any…problems?” Pennig drawled the words, as if choosing them carefully.

  Groat’s armor itched. The question could refer to multiple things. Did the Humans know others were listening?

  “The new upgrades wired in by our allies caused a few glitches.” York’s smooth reply oozed over the bridge. “But we’re A-OK now.”

  Groat swore his armor’s coating curdled at the reassurance. Was it possible that these upgrades York mentioned caused the first shuttle to nearly crash and not the fermites?

  Mopus’s slash of a mouth turned down at the corners. “What of your trackers? Can they give us visuals? I can’t believe those hideous Human shuttles made it to the surface without incident.”

  Toggling a switch on his chair arm, Groat stared at the forward portholes. Static filled the room with white noise. “Your instincts may be correct. My trackers have been neutralized.”

  Mopus grunted. “It is inconceivable that our technology would be rendered useless but theirs would remain functional.”

  The Human com beeped again. “Proceed with the plan, Captain. Bei out.”

  Groat’s com squealed with feedback.

  Wincing, the new recruit severed the connection on their end.

  Yellow light formed a halo around the NSA ship.

  Crossing the warped deck, Groat placed his all-purpose hands on the back of the new recruit’s seat. “Sensors at full. I want to know what is causing that distortion.”

  The new recruit shoved the paddles on the helm to their greatest sensitivity. “Sensors at full, Commander.”

  Mopus’s turquoise robes trailed behind him as he paced the bridge. “Groat, you are aware of the Founders’ plans to start a war, are you not?”

  “Yes.” Groat kept his attention on the forward screens. Everyone knew about the coming war. Even the enemy. Which was why he wanted to know about those engines.

  Like before, space distorted around the NSA craft. Then the ship disappeared. The locator beacon reported the ship in four different locations at once.

  He massaged his armored forearm. He wanted that technology. “Send the information to our tactical and engineering units.”

  The new recruit nodded. “Aye, Commander.”

  Mopus stopped within reach. His pheromones clogged the air. “Do not trouble yourself with that technology, Groat. I will have the Founders’ experts analyze the files. You must focus on the upcoming fight.”

  Groat’s eye stalks stood straight up. Why did the diplomat insist on using his stink to try to control him? Everyone knew the Scraptors were immune, and an idiot could see that learning about this new Human technology should be part of the preparations for battle.

  A sly smile toyed with Mopus’s green lips. “I have put your name forward as Fleet Commander.”

  About time the Founders recognized Groat’s work. He straightened; all of his arms relaxed at his side. “I would be honored to accept.”

  “Yes, well…” Mopus’s fingers fluttered. “There is a small problem.”

  Groat had already eliminated two problems. He could take on a third. It just couldn’t be an air handler malfunction. Maybe an accidental decompression. They were messy but effective. “What kind of problem?”

  “The Decrepi favor Commander Obko.”

>   Obko? Groat clasped his claws behind his back. “His armor is three generations behind the current level.”

  What kind of soldier didn’t take care of his weapons and armor? A bad one. Groat would be doing the Scraptors a favor by eliminating Obko.

  “Exactly.” Mopus shrugged his thin shoulders. “He is extremely frugal with his budgetary allotment, and he is not constantly pushing for new weapons at the expense of consumer profit.”

  “If we cannot defend the Founders’ way of life from upstarts like the Skaperians and Humans, there will be no profit.” Groat’s tail swished over the deck. Why did the others not see things sensibly?

  “You don’t have to tell me that. I know. You’re right. We need weapons. Dependable, new weapons.”

  Groat’s armor itched. Why was Mopus agreeing with him? This time the stink he smelled wasn’t the green diplomat’s pheromones.

  “But the others… You know how devoted they are to their bottom lines.” Mopus flashed his rectangular palms. “If they think they can win the war and save a handful of credits, they’ll vote for Obko.”

  “It would be a mistake.” Many Scraptors would die. Groat had to prevent that. His race’s numbers hadn’t fully recovered from the Surlat Plague.

  “And given their pride, they might not even vote to change leadership until our civilization is on the brink of defeat.”

  Obko’s well-timed assassination would prevent that. Groat rubbed his hands together. He had enough allies to see to it.

  Mopus resumed his pacing. “But I think I might have a way to convince the Founders that the right choice could end this war quickly and bring it in under budget with just a few, token new weapons.”

  Groat tracked the diplomat around his command deck. “How?”

  “A gesture on your part. One that shows initiative and daring, yet incurs only incidental expenses.” Mopus’s hand flapped off-handedly.

  “What kind of gesture?” Every waste flap Groat possessed sealed shut. Since Mopus had thought of it, it couldn’t be good.

  “I propose you take an elite crew to the planet’s surface and retrieve a small information crystal. While there, you could see if these Human’s really were unaffected by the fermites.”

  Groat was glad his waste flaps were closed. He almost let loose his bowels. The Plague had eradicated nearly his entire line. He had nightmares of it killing him.

  Mopus peeked at Groat from the corner of his slanted eyes. “Surlat was once the main hub of research for the Founders. We know our researchers dumped their project data on a crystal and buried it in a secured vault. If you bring that back to me and I present it to the Founders Board, then you will have saved everyone money and time, proving you are the better candidate.”

  Given where the data was, Groat doubted he would make it back alive. “And if I bring back the Plague as well?”

  “Then the Founders will have all the more reason to promote you.” Mopus smiled. The perfection of the expression was ruined by the razor’s edge of malice.

  Groat’s armor nearly stood on end.

  “We’ve had a vaccine for the last fifty years. As I’ve said before, it’s in your upgrades.” Mopus snapped a loose thread from his embroidered cuff. “Of course, the Neo Alliance doesn’t possess it, and it will be withheld from any species stupid enough to side with them.” He flicked the string to the deck. “The others will pay for the vaccine and the Founders will profit.”

  Groat sank onto the command chair. He was immune from the Surlat Plague. “Why are you offering this to me?”

  “You’ve been studying the Humans.”

  Drumming his fingers on the chair arm, Groat waited. He’d bet his last bottle of armor oil, there was another reason.

  “Oh, very well.” Mopus huffed. “When you succeed, you’ll undo the harm that debacle on Erwar did to my career.”

  That motive Groat believed. “I’ll do it on two conditions.”

  “Two?”

  “We present the data crystals to the Founders Board.” Groat would be dead and stiff before he’d allow Mopus to take credit for his work.

  Mopus rocked back on his heels. “Done.”

  “And second, I want to see what weapons were under development when the crystal was hidden.”

  “Why?” Mopus’s brow furrowed and his pointy ears twitched. “Development is hardly your area of expertise.”

  “But war is.” Groat rolled his top shoulders. “If I know what weapons were near completion, they can be fast-tracked and I can build an offense around them. The NSA would be crushed before it could mount a defense.”

  “Now, you’re thinking like a Fleet Commander.”

  “Recruit, prep the shuttle. I want to be on Surlat before nightfall.” Once he wrapped up this war, Groat would have his pick of trophies. After he finished torturing Beijing York, he’d bronze the Human’s head and keep the trophy next to his bed.

  Chapter 10

  Standing on the middle of Starflight 1’s ramp, Nell stared across the swaying green stalks. Electricity zinged along her nerve endings. Her heart beat in three-quarter time. No virus on the planet. No way she could become sick. She was free. Gnats swarmed in front of her eyes and she swatted them away. Well, almost free. Fermites swam in her blood.

  That couldn’t be as bad as getting the Plague.

  She raised her hand and caught a ray of sunshine. Her skin sparkled. She glanced back at her husband, “Permission to go ashore, Admiral?”

  The white part of Bei’s eyes darkened.

  He was in the WA, doing heaven knew what to protect them, to protect her. “Bei?”

  He winked at her. “Stay where I can see you.”

  “Will do.” She bounded down the ramp. One small step for mankind… She stepped onto the bent stalks. Bulges grew beneath yellow tassels. No, it couldn’t be. The husk filled her hand. She peeled them down, half-formed blue corn kernels. “Well, I’ll be.”

  “Be what?”

  Clamping her lips together, she faced her husband. “Must you sneak up on me like that?”

  “Yes.” He held out his hand to her. “It’s part of my cyborg mojo.”

  She traced his initials on his palm.

  His nostrils flared.

  “You’re not the only one with a little magic.”

  “You have more than a little magic.” He tugged on her arm before she found her footing.

  She stumbled against his chest, slamming into his rock-hard body. “Hey, I thought you wanted me to stay where you could see me, not where we were attached at the hip.”

  “I’ve changed my mind.” His eyes darkened to pitch and he looked up at the sky.

  The hair on her neck stood on end. “What do you see?”

  “Trouble.”

  That was helpful. Not. “Care to elaborate? You know, in full sentences, not sphinx-like enigmas?”

  Her husband grunted.

  Nell blew her bangs out of her eyes. Maybe she needed to explain the word sphinx.

  Exiting the other shuttle, Ensign Richmond Virginia jogged over. An auburn ponytail bounced over her narrow shoulders. If she wore a poodle skirt, bobby socks, and saddle shoes, she’d fit right in with the teeny boppers of the Nineteen-fifties. Instead, her black security uniform, side TorpSK7, and the Lassiter K8 rifle cradled in her arms identified the teenager as a full member of Bei’s security crew.

  Her husband gripped Nell’s shirt back. “What is so important that it couldn’t be transmitted even through the WA?”

  Richmond stood at attention. “Captain Pennig detected a Founders’ vessel in the star system. Engine signature matched Groat’s.”

  Nell stiffened. Her gaze flew left then right. Corn fields and more cornfields, but those hills… They could hide anything. Even nasty Bug-uglies. “Groat is here?”

  Her arms shifted to silver. Her hands elongated into swords.

  Syn-Ens poured out of the shuttles and double-timed it to their side. Facing outward in all directions, they surrounded her and her
husband. Paladin Apollie yanked her scythe from her belt. With a shake of her wrist, she extended the handle, then vaulted over and found a place in line.

  Well, crap, Nell’s panic seemed to be contagious.

  Bei stroked her spine. “He could have been ordered to verify that we were dirtside, picking up passengers.”

  “Or to see if we died a horrible death thanks to their fermites.” She shook her hands until fingers replaced the blades.

  Ensign Richmond lifted her rifle to her shoulder and set her hand on the trigger. The barrel swept back and forth along the horizon. “What are fermites?”

  “Stand down, Ensign.” Bei’s eyes shifted back to their normal cobalt blue. “Fermites are atomic-sized particles used to interfere with our technology.”

  Nell tuned him out while he updated the gathered Syn-Ens. Unease burrowed deep inside her. Her muscles twitched. An inkling sprouted then grew into a lightning bolt. Her skin seemed to shrink over her bones. Either the fermites were messing with her hearing or… “What’s that noise?”

  Bei stopped speaking and turned his head from side to side. “I hear the river behind us and the wind through the corn stalks. What do you hear?”

  “Nothing.” She stepped toward the ring of Syn-En. “I don’t hear birds or animals or crickets. Nothing. That can’t be right, can it?”

  Doc Cabo appeared at the top of Starflight 1’s ramp. “Our human volunteers are securely quarantined, Admiral.”

  “Good.” Releasing her, Bei crouched and dug his fingers in the black loam. His brow furrowed. “I’m detecting no microbial life in the soil.”

  Green light fanned out from Doc’s wrists. He swept his arms along the field of corn up the hill and to the wind break of willows along the river’s edge. “That can’t be correct. My systems seem to be malfunctioning. Perhaps a side effect of the fermites. I’ll run a diagnostic and rerun the scan.”

  Nell shifted her weight from foot to foot. Syn-En protocol called for a diagnostic run after any hint of outside interference. Given their dramatic landing, they all should have run diagnostics ten minutes ago.

  “Medics.” Bei eyed each of the twenty Syn-En members with the snake and staff emblem of their medical service. “Report your findings.”