by Zara Zenia
"You ready for this?" Amber asked Atropos, smiling nervously.
"No," Atropos replied frankly. "But then I am not sure I ever will be. So we will just have to proceed and hope I find my confidence somewhere along the way."
"Sounds like a plan," Amber replied with a small, shaky laugh. "Computer, door."
Casting one last glance around them in case they were being watched, Amber and Atropos slipped into the inner shell of the ship and made their way toward the incubation hall.
It wasn't deep in, certainly not as remote as the room where Actian was keeping the humans for the auction, and the halls leading to it had recently been cleaned and decorated. Preparations for Gifting Day, Amber assumed. But the area was deserted, everyone in the central sphere enjoying the festival. Once the sound of music from behind them faded, these halls were silent.
Finally, they came to a set of vast ornate doors, closed with a giant, intricate seal the size of a manhole cover that seemed to be made of wax or something similar.
"It is symbolic," Atropos explained, seeing Amber staring. "The breaking of the seal before the ceremony is an important moment. But it serves no real purpose. Though we try to disturb the hosts as little as possible, they and the mechanisms in the room still need tending. Workers enter through a service entrance. Over here."
Down a smaller corridor Amber had almost not noticed, dwarfed as it was by the ceremonial doors and partially hidden behind a statue, Atropos led her to a plainer looking door. It opened at his touch, and the two of them stepped inside.
The vast room, even larger than the hall Amber had seen before, was full of more humans than Amber thought she'd ever seen in one place. The hall extended in both directions past the curve of the ship and extend up beyond what she could see. The humans floated in neat rows and columns, drifting in the strange gravity of their suspension.
Atropos hurried back toward the great doors, where a kind of podium like a book lectern stood. As they approached it, Amber saw the screen set into it and realized it was the first solid, non-holographic computer screen she'd seen on the ship.
"All of the functions of host gathering and maintenance are controlled from here," Atropos explained as he began tapping at the screen. "Isolated from the rest of the system so that they cannot be tampered with."
"So you can use it to send them all back?" Amber asked.
"Theoretically," Atropos replied. "There is no reason I should not be able to do that."
"You don't sound exactly confident there." Amber pursed her lips, looking around them at the silent, floating crowd.
"Well, it has never been done before," Atropos said, frowning down at the console. "No one has ever returned a host, at least not as far as I am aware. I am a little worried that, if the function exists, I will not be able to locate it."
"It's a little late to bring up a major concern like that," Amber mentioned, frowning. "But, I believe in you."
"Thank you," Atropos said, frowning harder at the console.
"How long do you think we have before the ceremony?" Amber asked, eyeing the doors warily. If the ceremony started, she and Atropos would be standing right in front of them with nowhere to hide.
"I am certain we have plenty of time," Atropos replied. "The festival lasts most of the day. Oh, I think I have found it!"
He pressed a button and immediately, a loud alarm began to blare throughout the ship. He immediately began hitting other buttons faster.
"What happened?" Amber asked, shouting to be heard over the klaxon. "What is that?"
"Apparently," Atropos said, his voice strained, "that is a perfectly normal part of the purging procedure, informing the residents to stand clear of the hosts to be returned. I did not expect it to be quite so . . . vigorous."
"But it's working?" Amber asked, pale with worry. "They're being sent back?"
"In just a moment," Atropos confirmed, his antennae twitching. "There!"
Amber looked up as a light grew around the captured humans. As she watched, they began to vanish, one at a time, winking out of existence and, presumably, reappearing on Earth.
"We did it!" Amber laughed, a little overwhelmed.
"Now is the difficult part," Atropos said, taking her by the arm and hurrying her back toward the door. "Actian, and probably everyone else on the ship, are about to realize what that alarm means and rush here as quickly as they can. It would be better if we were not here when that happened."
"Agreed," Amber said, turning a little pale.
They rushed back into the service corridor, Amber still lightheaded with the rush of success. She sobered up fast at the sound of panicked voices approaching from the other end of the hall.
"Computer, door!" she said in a quick whisper. "Hall to, uh, office level B."
She vaguely remembered that designation from her poking around in the abandoned sections the previous day. She dragged Atropos through the door and erased it behind them, rushing away with all speed. She didn't know what, if any, kind of security they had on this ship, but she didn't want to be anywhere near the incubation hall right now.
"We must get back to the central chamber," Atropos said. "My brother will expect my help."
Amber nodded and, doing her best to remember her explorations from the other day, routed them back to a secluded corner of the gardens at the base of the inner sphere.
The Festival was in chaos. The music was gone, replaced by a cacophony of distressed cries as everyone tried to determine what had happened. She and Atropos hurried through the crowd, letting themselves be seen as they searched for Actian. Unsurprisingly, they found him near the grand doors of the incubation hall, where he was standing before the seal, now broken, the empty hall behind him.
"Flight brothers!" he shouted to be heard over the panicked noise. "Calm yourselves and listen to me!"
Gradually, the crowd quieted down enough for Actian to be heard. Atropos and Amber pushed their way to the front of the mass. He nodded as he saw them, then addressed the flight.
"Remain calm," he ordered. "There is no cause for panic. The hosts have been returned—"
A cry rose from the crowd and Actian waited until it had settled to continue.
"But they are not lost," he said. "The Gifting will be delayed temporarily while new hosts are collected. Nothing but our schedule will be harmed. This is only an inconvenience, not a disaster."
Amber's victory turned sour in her mouth. Would it really be that easy for them to just kidnap more people?
"At this point," Actian went on, "we suspect computer failure is responsible for the mistake. However, if there was an individual responsible, rest assured they will be found and held accountable. Return to the festival and enjoy yourselves. A new date for the Gifting will be announced soon."
He stepped away, and the crowd slowly dispersed, murmuring anxiously to one another. Atropos and Amber stayed behind as Actian approached them.
"Have you heard anything?" Actian asked, his calm, collected facade slipping a bit to show the worry and anger beneath. "I know the dull speak more often to you than to me."
"Only the speech you just gave," Atropos said with a frown. "Amber and I were in the gardens when the alarm sounded."
"It is a nightmare." Actian grimaced, his wings shifting and settling uneasily on his back. "I do not know how this could have happened. Fortunately, the command was stopped before it reached the stock for the auction."
Amber gritted her teeth, sudden anger and despair twisting in her gut. Erin!
"But who knows how much this delay will affect the course for our return flight," he went on. "It may need to be completely re-charted! And the auction is still meant to go ahead tomorrow—"
"You must delay it," Atropos said at once, and Amber's heart leapt into her throat. Actian's eyes widened and Atropos rushed on. "Consider the flight, brother. There will be enough ill will that I still have access to a host when the rest are denied. If you begin giving hosts to outsiders before your flight, there will
be mutiny. You must delay the auction until after the Gifting!"
Actian considered Atropos's words for a moment, his normally aloof features drawn tight with concern.
"You're right," he said. "Of course, you're right. But our guests will not be happy."
He bit his lip with teeth that surprised Amber in their sharpness, his thoughts far away. Around them, most of the crowd had moved on, but many still lingered. Some watched Actian with anxious eyes, clearly wanting to ask him questions but afraid to approach while he was talking with his brother. Others watched Atropos suspiciously or stared at Amber with jealous greed in their eyes. Actian glanced at them and frowned.
"I will want you there when I tell them," Actian went on, straightening up with a rustle of his wings. "In the meantime, I would suggest you take that back to your room and hide it."
He gestured to Amber with a dismissive flick of his wrist.
"We don't want to risk making the situation worse by flaunting your good fortune."
"Of course." Atropos bent his head in acknowledgement. "I will take her now."
"I will call for you shortly," Actian promised and turned away with an agitated rustle of his wings to greet the other Lepidopterix standing nearby.
Atropos hurried Amber away, and they said nothing to one another until they were back in Atropos's chambers, the curtains drawn and every corner checked for possible surveillance.
"We did it," Amber said, finally allowing herself to feel relieved. She grabbed him in a tight hug. "We really pulled it off!"
"Yes, if only temporarily," Atropos confirmed, squeezing her close for a moment. "But our work is not done."
"I didn't think there would be a delay between the main vault and the auction stock," Amber said a little sourly. "But we'll get them sent back before the auction. We just have to try again."
"We'll have to do more than that," Atropos said quietly. "We will have to destroy the terminal and all the tools for collecting hosts."
Amber stepped back from him, her eyes wide.
"But that would mean—"
"Destroying any hope of my flight ever reproducing in this way," he replied, bowing his head. "At the very least, we would have no choice but to return to the home world for repairs. If we don't find a solution by then, it may spell the end for my species."
"You would risk that?" Amber asked, touching his hand. It was one thing to disrupt this generation, but to potentially destroy his species’s entire ability to reproduce . . . was it fair for her to ask that of him?
"You were right," Atropos said, taking her hand gently. "I cannot allow Actian to commit this genocide against your species. Not even to save my own."
He touched her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb. She placed her hand over his, heart heavy with shared grief for his species.
"We have been a people in decline for a long time. We have been fighting the inevitable for longer than your species has even existed. Perhaps it is time we stopped fighting."
She kissed him, sad and sweet, and thanked whatever strange turn of fate had brought them to each other.
A chime rang from the air and a small screen appeared next to Atropos.
"I must go to my brother," he said, scanning the words on the screen before dragging his fingers through it to dismiss it. "Stay here. I will return soon."
"Wait! Let me go with you," Amber insisted, taking his hand. "I want to see what happens."
"It is not safe for you there," Atropos said, shaking his head and pulling his hand away.
"It's not safe for me here!" Amber pointed out. "If one of your flight decides that they want me, what's to stop them from coming in here and taking me? I'm safer with you."
"No one would dare," Atropos insisted calmly, his hands on her shoulders as he pushed her gently away. "Just keep the curtains closed and stay quiet. I will be back soon."
He kissed her forehead gently, then vanished with a rush of wings. Amber watched him leave, her stomach churning with worry.
Restless, she paced the room, trying to make herself believe it really was wiser to stay.
Outside the balcony, the sound of the place had changed. She could no longer hear the cheerful laughter and music of the festival, or even the peaceful talk and rustle of wings from normal activity. There was a tension to the air that hummed like a plucked string. There were hardly any fliers going from balcony to balcony. Those who did moved quickly and did not linger or stop to talk.
Some passed close to Atropos's rooms, eyeing the closed curtain thoughtfully. Amber watched them through a gap in the fabric, feeling as though her heart were being squeezed in the grip of a giant first. She shook her head and stepped away. No, there was no way she was staying here. She couldn't be seen publicly with Atropos, but she'd learned how to sneak around by now.
Pulling her dull brown outfit on again, she summoned a door and began working her way down to where the computer said Actian kept his audience chambers.
Chapter 13
Surely, you understand why our confidence is a bit shaken."
Amber opened a small door at the back of the audience chamber and peered through cautiously. It was a long room whose decor clearly showed the baroque influence she'd seen elsewhere. It resembled nothing so much as a kind of alien Versailles. In a high-backed chair at the end of the room, Actian sat addressing the delegates from his new allies.
It was Captain Ixion, the centaur-like alien, who was speaking. A cluster of Lepidopterix, presumably important judging by their color and clothing, stood between her and the delegates, but she recognized his voice, which rang in the high ceiling of the room.
"We were promised a new trade," Ixion went on. "But how can we trust you to manage the trade of an entire species when you cannot even keep track of a mere handful of animals?"
"This is only a minor setback," Actian explained calmly. "Our automated system is designed to purge the incubation halls if it detects pathogens that might endanger the flight. One of the animals was sick and might have infected the others, and so they were all returned for the safety of the mission. We will have collected new hosts within a week, at which point the Gifting and subsequent auction will proceed as normal then."
The Lepidopterix in front of Amber shifted uneasily, murmuring among themselves and giving Amber a better view as Vespula of the Hymenopteran stepped closer to the throne, its wings buzzing furiously. She saw Atropos as last, standing in the shadow of Actian's throne. He stepped forward to block Vespula, his wings flaring, and the Hymenopteran stopped, though it still looked outraged.
"The auction must proceed!" it hissed. "The Queen was promised a full delivery of hosts by the laying season!"
The Immortal didn't speak, but its legs clicked and shifted in rapid, jerky motions.
"The fleet has obligations elsewhere in the galaxy as well," Captain Ixion added. "The Admiral will not abide a delay. But I have another proposition."
Vespula stepped back to eye Ixion suspiciously. Atropos folded his wings and returned to his position beside Actian's throne.
"Since you cannot be trusted to keep track of the animals," Ixion said, his tone cordial, cheerful even, "control of the planet and its resources should be handed over to someone else. You will still receive the payment and assistance you requested in return for all rights to Earth and its native species. But all business going forward with the Human trade will be done through another."
"I assume you plan for this other to be you?" Actian assumed, raising an eyebrow.
"Well," Ixion shrugged in mock humility. "The Foloi fleet does have extensive experience in interstellar trade—"
He was cut off by a furious hiss from Vespula, who darted toward him, openly threatening.
"You mean you are known pirates and thieves!" the Hymenopteran shrieked. "No one would be foolish enough to trust you with such a valuable resource! The humans should be given to the Hymenoptera!"
"And watch you burn through them all in a Rigellian minute?" Ixion chuckled, unconc
erned by the wasp in his face, its stinger raised. "No offense, my friend, but I've seen the Paper Wastelands you all left behind in the Beetleguise system. Your insatiability is legend. If it weren't for your Formic cousins keeping a leash on you, you'd have wiped out every living thing in your solar system and driven yourselves extinct before you discovered interstellar travel!"
Vespula was so incensed by this that its furiously beating wings actually raised it a few inches off the ground to hover menacingly, its stinger curving up between its legs.
"The Apocritic Queen answers to no Formic!" Vespula shrieked.
Behind them both, the Immortal was unfolding several long and spiky limbs, chittering strangely.
"Gentlemen," Actian said sharply before a fight could break out, "control of Earth will not be ceded to anyone. The promised hosts will be delivered once the Gifting is complete. Unfortunately, the delay cannot be avoided."
"If time is an issue," Ixion offered, "why not advance the harvest? The fleet is within range. We could begin taking humans off the surface within a day."
Amber gripped the doorway hard to keep from revealing herself, cold with horror at the thought that she might have advanced the invasion.
"Thief!" Vespula shrieked. "The Swarm is a light-month away! You would steal the best hosts before they arrive!"
"I cannot allow the harvest to begin until the Gifting is complete," Actian said, implacably calm. "This is not negotiable. The humans will resist this initial culling, and though losses are expected to be small, I will not risk even one life from my flight until the next generation has been assured."
"If you call the Fleet, there won't need to be a single Lepidopterix on the ground," Ixion urged. "We can collect the hosts for your Gifting first. No need to rely on your slower methods to maintain secrecy."
"Lying thief!" Vespula buzzed, shaking with rage. "He would have his pirates be the only ones on the surface so he can take what he likes and leave nothing for the rest of us! He would load his ships and be gone in an instant!"
