Heirs of Earth

by Sean Williams

  “But will you listen?” asked Thor. “Or have you already made up your mind to destroy us? I don’t want to spend my last minutes pissing into—”

  “No continuity exists between here and those that destroy.”

  “I think I’m beginning to understand,” said Alander, stepping forward. “It’s saying that it isn’t one of the Starfish.”

  “He’s right,” said Axford. “The radar ghosts—or whoever controls them—aren’t the ones we should be talking to. They’re someone else.”

  Thor’s frown became exasperation. “You can’t be fucking serious. They’re another alien species?”

  “Why not?” said Axford. “Why should the Yuhl and the Praxis be the only aliens the Spinner/Starfish migration have happened upon down the eons?”

  Alander nodded. “It’s a possibility, Thor.”

  “But you’re not sure?” She studied him closely.

  He shook his head. “Not of this, no.”

  “There’s also another possibility,” put in Sol. Then louder, for the alien voice, she said, “You’re telling us that you aren’t the ones who’ve been destroying our people, right?”

  “There exists a distinction,” answered the voice.

  “Then who are you, if not the Starfish—or rather, the destroyers?”

  “We are the components of the instruments that serve those that govern the interspaces.”

  Alander’s head reeled for a moment. A component of an instrument of a servant... Christ, the zebra ship represented possibly the lowest rung of the Starfish hierarchy ladder, yet it still managed to overwhelm their hole ship without so much as breaking a sweat!

  “The governors of the interspaces,” said Thor. “How can we speak to them?”

  “You are anomalous,” returned the voice with irritating repetition. “They will not hear you.”

  “Then you’ll have to make them hear us!”

  “They will not hear you,” the voice repeated.

  “But it’s vital we speak to them,” Thor pressed. “They’ll understand as soon as—”

  “Your argument offers no logic or clarity. They will not hear you.”

  “Fuck clarity and logic! We came here to talk to the Starfish, and we’re not leaving until we’ve done just that.”

  “From which sector have you come?”

  “We came from a system we call Asellus Primus,” Thor said, “but we’re originally—”

  “Your statement offers no reference to the interspaces,” the voice interrupted again. “The intruders’ presence is anomalous.”

  “We’re not from the interspaces,” said Thor. “We come from one of the systems you’ve destroyed!”

  “The interspaces have no systems; they are anomalous to those who govern the—”

  “The systems aren’t in the interspaces; they’re from beyond the interspaces. Just check the data of the probe you’ve taken over. There’ll be—”

  “The data was not relevant to the interspaces. The data has been expunged.”

  The final word of the zebra fish ship fell into the cockpit like a lead weight. Expunged. The creature or AI addressing them neither knew nor cared about the systems the Starfish were systematically destroying. It had even gone to the effort of erasing its memory in order not to know. This led to a very disquieting possibility: if it found their presence in the cutter to be equally irrelevant, would it erase them, too?

  “What is the function of those who govern the interspaces?” asked Sol after a moment’s uncomfortable silence.

  “The governors ensure integrity and fidelity,” came the immediate reply. “The governors ensure continuity. The governors ensure order.”

  “But that order has been broken down, hasn’t it? The interspaces have been damaged.”

  There was a slight pause—a pause Sol was quick to recognize as uncertainty and seize upon. “If you allow us to speak to another tool or component, then perhaps we could help restore that order. After all, we have information that might—”

  “The intruders are anomalous,” said the voice. “Your purpose bears no relation to the interspaces.”

  “But there is a relation,” Sol asserted. She pointed at the screens. “If the governors’ job is to maintain order in the interspaces—by which we assume you mean the chambers and linking tubes throughout the cutter—then there is a clear relation between us and them, because we were the ones that caused the damage in the first place.”

  “Careful, Sol,” Thor cautioned uneasily.

  Alander could relate to her apprehension. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to inform the aliens that the order it valued so highly had been disrupted as a direct result of their presence.

  Sol dismissed the warning with a shake of her head.

  “That misconception was present in the data extracted from your vessel,” said voice from the zebra ship.

  “It’s not a misconception, I assure you,” said Sol. “It’s the truth. If you hadn’t expunged the other information, you’d realize that.”

  “The source of the damage was external,” said the zebra ship. “You are internal.”

  “Yes, but the data would also tell you that we originally came from the outside. That is where our systems lie—beyond the interspaces.”

  “There is nothing beyond the interspaces,” said the voice. “It is not necessary.”

  Alander sighed. “If you’re not prepared to listen to what we have to say, then why bother questioning us at all?”

  “Your origins must be known before judgment can be made.”

  A violent tremor through the vein wall cut short any further attempt to reason with the alien voice. The view through the monitors blurred with vibration. Everyone turned to the screens to see a long, slow ripple move along the superheated tube.

  “What’s that?” asked Thor.

  The image of the breach showed the jagged lips twisting and writhing, while roiling fluids made chaotic patterns in infrared displays.

  “Whatever it is,” said Sol, “it’s frightening our friend away. Look!”

  Without word or ceremony, the zebra fish ship pulled away from Eledone and shot off into the distance. Its tubular, striped body flexed and twisted in the currents, arcing toward an apparently unremarkable section of the vein wall a hundred meters downstream. Then, suddenly, the vein wall ripped open and peeled like a zipper along its length. The zebra fish ship was sucked into a sudden outrush of gases that ripped still more of the vein wall away. The enormous gash sucked at the contents of the vein in both directions and prompted a violent inrush from the chamber on the far side of the original breach.

  Alander stared, amazed, as a dozen new ships darted through the gash. Shaped like fat knife blades minus pommel and guard, they sliced through the fluid as though it wasn’t even there. Alander couldn’t tell what propelled them, but their movements were economical and graceful. Bright lines of energy played along their edges, as though they were limned in neon. Weaving and ducking, almost playfully, they cut a swathe through the current.

  But the elegance and grace of their movements was deceptive, for their intentions were undoubtedly deadly. As the zebra fish ship came up to intercept them, the neon lines flashed, and it fell away in pieces, sliced into ribbons that disintegrated and dissolved in the superheated current.

  Then, almost casually, they turned their attention to Eledone.

  * * *

  Thor felt like screaming. Why couldn’t something just go right for her for a change?

  “What the fuck is happening now?” she cried out, unable to keep the edge of panic from her voice.

  The twelve blade ships arced toward them in a silvery rush.

  But as they loomed closer, it became apparent that they weren’t aiming for Eledone at all, but rather the nearby breach. And as they neared it, a bloom of radar ghosts rose up to greet them.

  It was like watching coral growth in fast motion, she thought. A blade ship would encounter a faint, silver resistance, then suddenly it
would be enveloped by a swarm of hard radar images that would overlap and multiply until the blade ship was invisible. The images Eledone cast for them of the strange encounters changed almost too quickly to follow. Clouds of radar ghosts blossomed and collapsed in series across the screens, flickering in and out of reality in discrete places but progressing in waves as the blade ships advanced. Unlike the probe, which had been completely overwhelmed by the radar ghosts, the blade ships were resisting each attack with apparent ease. Slowly, the number of ghost blooms faded, and the way into the breach became clear.

  “I’m not sure who I should be cheering for,” said Inari, shaking her head.

  Again the blade ships approached, and Thor’s anxiety rose once more. The blade ships were bound to notice Eledone, and when they did, it was very likely they’d destroy it with the same ease that they’d dispatched the ghosts.

  “We need to transmit a message,” said Alander unexpectedly.

  All eyes came from the screens to look at him.

  “A message?” said Thor. “To whom? Broadcasting anything now is only going to get us killed, Peter.”

  “I don’t think so. I remember—I mean, the Praxis has records of ships such as these.”

  “What does the Praxis have to do with this?”

  Alander’s hand came up to touch his forehead. He looked confused, even more disoriented than usual.

  “Speak to me, Peter. What the fuck is going on?”

  “I don’t know how I know, but I do. It’s in my head.” He looked at her evenly, then, pleading with his eyes for her to trust him. “I think I have the means to communicate with them.”

  Thor’s attention was drawn back to the screens as something black and angular slipped through the breach. It looked like a chunky six-cornered jack, all right angles and stubby arms, and was so large it barely made it through the jagged hole. The blade ships squared off against it and seemed to mount a counterattack, although it wasn’t immediately obvious as to how they were doing it. Tiny puffs of light seemed to flower on the arms of the new arrival, sending clouds of black material in waves down-vein. It seemed to pulse, like a tuning fork ringing in slow motion, and waves of invisible energy knocked the blade ships aside.

  They regrouped as a second black craft edged its way through the breach. Subtle energies flashed through the roiling fluid, sending Eledone rocking. It was only a matter of time, Thor feared, before something hit the hole ship—whether by accident or design. If they were going to do anything, it would have to be soon.

  She faced Alander again. “Did the Praxis put this knowledge in your head?”

  “He must have. I don’t know how else it could’ve got there.”

  “What else did he put in there?” asked Axford sourly.

  “I don’t care about that at the moment,” Thor said without turning, “as long as Peter can keep us alive. Can you, Peter?”

  “The Praxis—” He spoke falteringly, hardly inspiring confidence. “He has a great deal of knowledge concerning—concerning the races encountered by the Starfish and Spinner migrations. This is one of them.”

  “But what are they doing here?” asked Gou Mang.

  “I don’t know. But they’re called—they’re called the A|kak|a/riil, and they were presumed lost thousands of years ago.”

  “Well, they seem pretty active to me,” said Samson dryly.

  An invisible shock wave tore the breach a meter wider, bringing the nearest point that much closer to where they desperately clung to the vein wall.

  “Okay, for want of an alternative, I’m going to give Peter free rein on this one.” She waited for Axford to object, but for once the ex-general had nothing to say. “Eledone, are you back on-line?”

  “I am here, Caryl.”

  “Okay. I want you to give Peter a broadcast line in the medium of his choice.”

  Alander fiddled with the command stalk for a moment, then went very still for more than a minute. Thor waited anxiously, wondering when he would begin and, more importantly, what the response would be. She didn’t expect the mysterious aliens to want to help more than they already had, inadvertently, by taking out the zebra fish ship, but a better understanding of what was going on would be a step in the right direction.

  Eventually Alander stirred. “I’m sending the message now. The A|kak|a/riil communicate via resonances only accessible in unspace. Eledone’s limited transdimensional capability puts a considerable cap on this sort of communication, but I’m doing my best to overcome that problem.”

  “What have you said to them?” Thor asked, wondering if Alander had noted the change in his tone. His voice was richer, deeper, more formal.

  “I’ve told them that we’re on a diplomatic mission seeking information on the Starfish and that we request their assistance.”

  “Let’s see what they say.”

  On the screens, a third black ship had nosed its way through the breach. Two of the blade ships exploded spectacularly as its weird vibrating weapons systems joined the attack of its partners. But the ground was soon lost as the blade ships managed to destroy the first black ship, quickly followed by the second. Crumbling black chunks drifted into the distance, leaving only the third black craft behind.

  “The A|kak|a/riil have opened a resonant link with Eledone,” said Alander finally. “We can talk freely with them now.”

  “Well, that’s encouraging, at least,” said Thor.

  “They say that we are foolish and should leave immediately. The governors and their servants will soon be defeated. Afterwards the chamber beyond will be theirs.”

  She sighed. “That’s not so encouraging.”

  “Why do they want it?” Samson asked.

  “They say that the governors’ function has been superseded,” Alander explained. “They say that with the death of the cutter, all roles are rescinded.”

  “What roles?”

  “I’m not sure I understand,” said Alander, looking puzzled again.

  “You know,” said Sol thoughtfully, “I think I’m finally beginning to get a handle on what’s going on here.”

  Thor looked over to her. “Mind filling the rest of us in, then?”

  “In a second. Peter, ask them who the governors are.”

  “The race we were just talking to was once called the Pllix,” he responded. “They have governed the interspaces for as long as the A|kak|a/riil have been part of the Exclusion.”

  “The Exclusion?” said Thor, frowning. “And that is?”

  “I think you’re mistranslating something there, Peter,” said Sol. “Check again. I have a gut feeling that the word you’re looking for is ecosystem.”

  After some consideration, Alander turned to Sol. “I think you’re right.”

  Thor shook her head in irritation. “Exclusion, ecosystem—it’s all gibberish.”

  “Actually, it makes perfect sense.” Sol’s expression was one of delighted wonder, as though she’d turned over a stone and found a nugget of gold instead of the usual collection of bugs and dirt “Don’t you see? We’ve been assuming all along that there are only two options to choose from when the Starfish come by. We can either run, or we can stay and die. But there’s a third option: we can do what the Pllix did and hitch a ride.”

  “Stow away?” Thor couldn’t help her scorn. “That’s preposterous.”

  “Why preposterous?” said Sol. “It makes perfect sense.”

  “Look at those things,” said Thor. “It’s not as if they can just slip into a corner unnoticed!”

  “You’re forgetting the scale of the cutters,” argued Sol. “Not to mention the Trident. These things are huge. Who knows how many hangers-on they could support? Over the thousands of years within this cutter, the Pllix have been absorbed by the governors, policing the veins and chambers and making sure that nothing intrudes. They’ve managed to integrate themselves into the Starfish fleet.”

  Samson nodded enthusiastically. “It makes sense. Life survives and adapts wherever there’s a
niche.”

  “And there are bound to be niches aplenty here,” added Gou Mang.

  “There always are for collaborators,” said Axford.

  “What do you mean?” asked Alander.

  “I mean, they’re helping the very creatures that destroyed their homes.”

  “But at least they’re still alive,” said Sol. “Look, what they’re doing is essentially no different from the Praxis—and us. They’ve just gone about it in a different way, that’s all.”

  “I’m still not buying it,” said Thor. “They managed to infiltrate the enemy’s craft only to settle down there and make it their home? You’d have to be insane.”

  Sol shook her head. “Just desperate.”

  “Peter,” said Axford. “Can you ask the A|kak|a/riil what their function is? If this is an ecosystem, can they get us any closer to the top of the food chain?”

  “They say that their function is that of—” Alander paused, as if trying to interpret the response. “It’s a strange word they’re using. There doesn’t seem to be any corresponding word in our language. It seems to mean both scavenger and beneficiary.”

  “Beneficiary of what?”

  “Of the cutters,” he said. “When one dies, it is returned to the Source of All to be reclaimed.”

  “That makes them demolition crews,” said Sol.

  “Or recyclers,” put in Inari.

  Thor suppressed a shudder. The way the damaged cutter had been removed by two of its “siblings” had touched an absurdly anthropomorphic part of her, but if Alander was right, then that impression was completely askew. They weren’t taking it away to be healed but to be cannibalized.

  “What about getting us to the top?” she asked. “Would that involve finding this ‘Source of All’ thing?”

  “They say that the Source is unapproachable. The Exclusion has no known links to it.”

  “The Starfish don’t actually tell them what to do?”

  “They say that they perform their functions independently. They take orders from no one.”