“This is the kind of knowledge that could come in handy for the others,” Gou Mang insisted. “They should be told about it!”
A small silence filled the cockpit as Samson continued to navigate through the ravaged interior of the cutter.
“That, at least, I will concede is a valid point,” said Thor after some thought. “But I’m still not prepared to give up on this mission just yet. While we look for some way to speak to the Starfish, we’ll also look for a way to get back. That way, if the former fails, we can still have a shot at the latter. Is that an acceptable compromise, Gou Mang? Inari?”
The two nodded reluctantly, although Gou Mang was clearly not convinced. She might know when an argument was lost, but she was also a Hatzis. Alander had no doubt that the issue would surface again. He’d known Caryl Hatzis long enough to know that an argument was never lost completely, only temporarily.
“How close are we to the outside?” Alander asked Samson, filling the tense quiet.
“At this rate,” she replied, “we should reach our destination in about one hour.”
“Right, then I’m going to shut down for half an hour,” said Thor. “Gou Mang, you’re in charge until I wake up.”
Gou Mang looked surprised at the request, but accepted the responsibility with a nod.
Sol came over to sit beside Alander, touching palms so that she could speak to him in private.
Clever, don’t you think? she said. Conceding command to Gou Mang doesn’t give her anything, but it allows her to save face. I would have done the same thing, I think
Would you have pulled the plug on her if she’d decided to go back? he shot back.
I’m not sure. It would’ve been more interesting to see what Frank would do first. There’s a whole heap of stuff he’s not telling us—stuff I’m very keen to learn more about.
When do you intend to do that?
When everything is a little more quiet, perhaps. Or more dangerous still than it has been.
Alander looked over to Thor. Do you think she’s really shut down?
Yeah, she’s out, all right. Gone into fast mode to get as many z’s as she can.
Alander nodded. That’s not a bad idea at the moment. We’ve no idea what we ‘re going to find on the outside of this thing. He was trying not to think that far ahead, but it was hard not to dwell on it. If the A|kak|a/riil had adapted into demolition crews designed to take damaged cutters apart, who were they working for? The Starfish themselves, or someone else higher on the ladder?
He assumed that they were about to find out and was unsure how he felt about it. When he thought about the possible roads the mission could take, he kept getting stuck on a terrible vision of them following a chain from species to species in a vain hope of finding one that might offer them a direct link to the Starfish, until one day a thousand years from now another species would stumble upon them, and they would have found their own niche in the world of the cutters, perhaps becoming a race known to others as the Seekers or something similar.
And what if there were no Starfish to find, anyway? What if the aliens had died out eons ago, and the destructive fleet they were exploring was advancing purely on momentum—machines programmed by designers long since extinct, inhabited by parasites, and now impossible to shut down?
Time would tell, he supposed—time that was passing all too quickly. If they didn’t find an answer soon, it would be too late to make a difference in Surveyed Space, and what happened to Eledone and its crew would be irrelevant.
Sol withdrew her hand from his, perhaps sensing that he wasn’t in the mood to talk. He felt disappointment for a moment, having taken some comfort from the physical contact, if nothing else, but didn’t move to reclaim it. Whatever their relationship had been or was, just then was undoubtedly the wrong time to test its boundaries.
Alone in his mind, Alander settled back to sit out the hour in silence.
* * *
Eledone passed through a region crowded with structures that looked like purple stalactites and stalagmites. Giant interlocking cones stretched from floor to ceiling and back again, culminating in tapered, perfectly geometric tips. The tips of stalactites and stalagmites didn’t match, however, so the peak of one formation pressed into the trough of another. To Sol, Eledone seemed like a bread crumb gliding through the teeth of unimaginably large beasts.
“There’s less damage here than in previous regions,” Alander noted.
Sol nodded in silent agreement. There was still the occasional molten blister bulging from the otherwise seamless surfaces, and even a few long, curling scars where energy weapons had been discharged, but they were indeed fewer in number than she’d seen in other areas. There was none of the roiling turbulence of the veins, either. Clearly, as they neared the outer layers of the giant vessel, the environment was becoming increasingly calmer.
“Check that out,” said Axford, coming to stand beside her in the center of the cockpit.
Sol looked to where Axford was pointing. It was a dark patch off to one side. “It looks like an impact site,” she said.
Axford nodded. “And it looks old, too—not fresh.”
Inari came up alongside them also. “Which means what, exactly?”
“Even ships this advanced would have to get hit by space junk now and then,” explained Sol. “If that is the site of such a collision, it means we really are getting closer to the outside.”
She knew no more about their environment than any of the others, but the notion was a reassuring one, anyway, and she found herself embracing the hope, wanting it to be true. As to what they might find outside when they reached it, she had no idea. It could very well be a case of flying out of the frying pan and into the fires of hell.
They had passed through sections of the ship where giant portions appeared to have been sheared away and removed. Vast reefs of detritus marked their passing, but there was no indication of who had done the actual work. She didn’t know if the A|kak|a/riil or some other, as yet unidentified niche dweller was responsible.
She was beginning to think of the cutter as less an animal and more a kind of cell. It was roughly the right shape, for starters, and lacked many of the things she would normally associate with an independent creature. The thought that various alien races might be absorbed into its functions was not so peculiar, given that her cells had absorbed other creatures during their evolution in order to function more efficiently. Whether it was gut flora or mitochondria, the absorption of the lesser into a greater whole seemed to be a biological paradigm.
She was certain, however, that she didn’t want to be absorbed. Even in Sol, before the Starfish came, when she had been just part of the much larger mind that was Caryl Hatzis, she’d had a clear sense of her own identity, as a separate, independent being. Did the Pllix have that? she wondered. Or the A|kak|a/riil She didn’t want to find out the hard way that they were in fact slaves to the Starfish overmind—if such a thing existed.
“You really are keeping a low profile these days, aren’t you, Caryl?” said Axford, looking sidelong at her. “Still, it was nice to see you back in the thick of things earlier. Just because Thor can manage on her own doesn’t mean she should have to do it all the time.”
She turned to face him and held for a beat, watching him. He looked back at her with a faintly amused expression in his eyes.
“Tell me, Frank,” she said, ignoring his unsubtle stab at small talk. “How were you intending to get us out of the hole ship earlier on? You never did explain.”
“Because there was no need to,” he said.
“Surely we have a right to know just what our resources are,” she said. “What if something were to happen to you and—?”
“If something happens to me, then my hidden capacity is irrelevant, no?”
“Not to us, not necessarily. We might still be able to use it, so you should tell us. This is supposed to be a team effort.” When he didn’t respond, she pushed a little harder. “Come on, Frank. What
is it? Are you packed full of antimatter explosives or something?”
He tilted his head to one side for an instant, then straightened again. “That’s not it, Caryl.”
“You could be lying.”
“I doubt you’d believe me if I said I wasn’t. In fact, were I to be completely honest, you’d still have your doubts. So, frankly, I don’t see the point.” Axford tapped his forehead gently. “My secret is staying right here until I’m ready to reveal it.”
“Fine.” She sighed with genuine frustration. What with Axford’s hidden secrets and Alander’s strange Praxis-given memories, it seemed like everyone had something to hide. “You win. But this isn’t supposed to be a competition. Not between us.”
He laughed. “That’s exactly what it is, Caryl. That’s what it will always be. You and I will never be able to comfortably cohabit. Trust me.”
The bluntness of his words, and the apparent cheerfulness with which they were delivered, sent a chill down her spine. “Perhaps we won’t need to,” she said after a moment. “It’s a big galaxy, after all.”
“A galaxy that I intend to own one day.”
“Own, Frank? Is that a threat?”
He shook his head. “No threat, Caryl. I’m simply telling you as I see it. And you of all people should be able to appreciate what I’m saying. That’s what makes you simultaneously my chief competitor and my chief ally. We both know that the engrams are just a step up the ladder. It’s what lies at the top of the ladder that is the prize. Together or apart, we might just get there one day.”
They were speaking softly now, less by speech than by coded sounds too soft for the others to hear.
“I’d say the Starfish might have something to say about that.”
“And perhaps this is what it’s all about—all the destruction and hope dashing. The Spinners or their servants are blindly going about their uplift program while the Starfish blithely knock everyone back down again. Maybe there’s simply no more room at the top. Maybe the Starfish are among the uplifted who don’t want to share what they have. Who knows?”
“If that’s the case,” she said, “then what’s the point of fighting?”
“Because this is our first test, Caryl. If and when we pass it, we’ll be able to move on to the second test. And make no mistake, there will be a second test. It’s only taken a few thousand years for the first test to stumble across us; think how quickly we might stumble across the next threat when we actually head out into the stars looking.”
“You make it sound like we’re in college or something.”
He shook his head firmly. “Far from it, Caryl. This is evolution, red in tooth and claw. The Yuhl didn’t pass the test; they’re stuck in their Pax Praxis forever, unable to migrate or change. The Pllix and the A|kak|a/riil didn’t pass the test, either; they’re clinging like limpets to the underbellies of the Starfish pest controllers. If we are to survive, then we must be better than them. If we are to go up another rung in the great evolutionary ladder, then we’re going to have to fight back with all our heart and willpower.”
She thought about this for a moment, staring at the screens that depicted the almost dreamlike environment that they were navigating through. Then: “Tell me, Frank: what do you think is at the top of that ladder?”
He smiled at this and shrugged lightly. “I have absolutely no idea, Caryl. How could I? Does an ant about to be crushed underfoot have any concept of what a human foot might look like, let alone the entire being? We simply don’t have the mental capacity to imagine what we might find there at the top.”
“But that doesn’t stop you from wanting to get there, does it?”
“Nor does it stop me from looking for allies to help me get there.”
“You’ve got a strange way of going about it,” she said.
“It doesn’t come naturally. That I’ll admit.” He smiled, and for a brief moment some of his intensity seemed to boil off. “It might only be the fact that I’ve been abandoned here by the others—by the versions of me who’ve taken their chances with the Praxis—but at this point in time, anything is looking good. Even this motley bunch.”
“But you’re still not prepared to tell us what the ace up your sleeve is?”
A short, definite shake of the head. “A guy’s gotta have some secrets, Caryl.”
On the screens, the dense thicket of interlocked cones had thinned, opening up to form a wide, domed space that reminded Sol vaguely of the pocket immediately behind the cornea of a human eye. Eledone reported that they had entered a region of relatively clean vacuum, with low particle counts and very little stray energy.
“There must be a hull breach nearby,” said Samson hopefully.
Thor stirred at this, quickly standing and alert. “We’ve found the way out?”
“It’s possible,” said Alander.
“This is your last chance to change your mind,” Axford said to Thor.
“I’m aware of that.” Thor didn’t look as though the rest had moved her even remotely to changing her mind. Bald and lean, with a hungry look that Sol’s other engrams lacked, her attention was firmly focused on the information displayed on the screens before her. “What’s that up there?” she asked, pointing.
Eledone zoomed the view to reveal a twinkling point high on the giant cornea’s ceiling. “I am detecting a scattering of laser light at that point,” announced the AI.
“It looks like a tear to me,” said Thor. “Head for it as discreetly as you can, Cleo. I know we’re going to stand out in here, no matter what we do, but I think we can minimize the disturbance. Not too many g’s; don’t aim straight for it, bring us in on a wide spiral—whatever it takes. I’ll leave the finer details up to you.”
Samson gripped the command stalk, and Eledone swept off on an entirely new course. The twinkling point of light quickly resolved into a jagged line—a tear, just as Thor had proposed. As they drew nearer, Sol made out black points crawling and hopping along its inside edges. They became sharply defined, rounded shapes, like helmets with multiple legs. Whatever they were, they were clearly in the process of widening the tear, and they were doing so with both speed and ease. As each chunk of the translucent retinal material fell away, they scooped it up and stored it under their carapaces, opening winglike shells to expose cargo bays beneath.
Like black ladybugs, she thought. Only these ladybugs were equipped with cutting lasers and reactionless thrusters.
As Eledone approached in a lazy, nonthreatening arc, the black bugs scattered with lasers flashing, gathering a moment later at the other end of the tear.
“I am receiving a complex repeated signal,” said Eledone. “The cypher employed is not one with which I am familiar.”
Thor turned immediately to Alander. “Peter? Do you recognize these things?”
He glanced away from the screen to face Thor. “Nothing’s coming to me,” he said. “Sorry.”
She sighed. “So starting up a conversation with them is obviously out of the question.”
“At least they’re not overtly hostile,” put in Gou Mang. “Which makes a nice change.”
The bugs appeared to be making a pyramid out of themselves as Eledone drew closer.
“Hey, look!” said Inari. “I can see stars through the tear!”
Sol peered closer at the image she indicated. There did indeed seem to be stars visible between to ragged lips of the tear, but they were shimmering as though viewed through exceedingly hot air. What was causing the effect, she couldn’t tell. There might have been a field effect of some kind surrounding the breach, an antidepressurization system that had come into effect too late to save this area from evacuation. Or perhaps atmosphere boiling from the breached cutter had crystallized in the vacuum, clouding the view.
“Whatever they are, I don’t think there’s any point worrying about the bugs anymore,” Thor said, watching the way they scrambled to link limbs and carapaces. It appeared as though they were trying to build a small, thick wall to ke
ep the Eledone at bay. Making themselves look larger, Sol speculated. Making themselves more threatening than they really are.
“I say we go for it,” Thor said.
“Once more into the breach, eh?” said Axford, grinning.
“Something like that,” said Thor. “Take us through, Cleo.”
Samson straightened Eledone’s course and accelerated for the stars. The bugs reacted instantly, flexing their stubby black legs and causing the wall to contract into a solid structure. A squat bug squeezed out of the middle, its forelegs raised high. Blue sparks crawled across gleaming carapaces, tickling antenna and glinting eyes.
This doesn’t look good, Sol thought.
Barely had she finished the thought when a bright flash filled the screen, followed a split second later by Eledone bouncing in midflight.
“Eledone? What the fuck—?”
Another flash cut Thor off in midquestion. Sol felt Alander’s hand grip her shoulder, steadying himself against the resulting disturbance. The source of the attack was clearly the central bug in the combined alien assembly. Its forelegs spat densely woven bullets of energy that were powerful enough to make even the hole ship think twice.
“I am sustaining damage,” Eledone announced in a deadpan tone.
“Can we ride it out?” Thor asked as a third bolt blinded all the screens simultaneously. When they cleared, the distance between the tear and their former location had halved.
“There is a chance that we can get through intact,” said Samson.
“But there’s also a chance we won’t,” said Axford, bracing himself against a wall as the hole ship rocked again beneath another attack.
“Just do your best, Cleo!” Thor called out with a grimace. “Everyone else, hang on!”
The bugs spat again. The intensity of each shot increased as the distance separating them decreased. Sol fell to her knees on the fifth, and thick webs of energy filled the air as Eledone’s less subtle safety measures came into effect. She could move only in slow motion, as though caught in gel.
Her eyes stayed fixed on the screens as the bugs fired again. The distance between them was shrinking rapidly, as evidenced by how violently the cockpit shook. There was time for maybe two more shots before they reached the tear. Alien faces molded out of gleaming black shells glared alarmingly at them from the screens.
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