The Fila Epiphany

by J. J. Green

  “That doesn’t make it a starship, though,” Cariad said.

  “The scanner read its composition about ten minutes ago. It’s made of a variety of metals—refined metals.”

  “Oh no.”

  “And it’s a regular shape: a crescent. And then there’s also the direction it’s moving, which appears to be from the planetary system where the Guardians detected signs of sentient life, and right toward us.”

  “Damn. How long until it reaches us?”

  “That’s the other thing. It’s traveling incredibly fast. It’ll be here in roughly four days, give or take a few hours depending on how quickly it slows down, assuming it is us it’s heading for. But as the thing’s aiming directly at us… ” He paused and took a breath. “You get what I mean.”

  “Four days?” Cariad echoed. “What are you going to do?”

  “We only just discovered what we might be dealing with, but of course I’m going to do whatever I can. We have a good understanding of the Mistral’s weaponry now, and I’ll continue to drill the crew. We’ll be prepared by the time the alien ship arrives.”

  Though Addleson sounded confident, his eyes said to Cariad, I have no idea what I’m doing here.

  “Perhaps they aren’t planning on attacking us,” she said.

  “That’s to be hoped for, but we have to prepare for that scenario.”

  “Yes.” Cariad didn’t want to say anything to Addleson in front of his crew, but she knew what he was thinking. He was only someone who had been trained to fly a colony ship. He wasn’t military. He’d probably never even fired a gun. If the approaching vessel was hostile, the Mistral’s pilot was seriously out of his depth. But he was all they had.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Water was creeping into Ethan’s prison cell. He was thirsty, but he was too weak and ill to turn over to drink it. He was lying on his back, the ever-present, ceiling-wide light shining in his eyes whenever he opened them, which wasn’t often. Mostly, he drifted in and out of consciousness, much preferring the times when he wasn’t awake, when dreams invaded his mind and he experienced a brief respite from the all-encompassing throb of pain from his leg.

  But the water had woken him. It was cold and it was soaking into his shirt and pants and the hair on the back of his head. He vaguely wondered if the threads had finally realized he was dying and they were going to fill the chamber to drown him and put him out of his misery.

  Despite everything, he didn’t want to die. More than ever, he wanted to return to the settlement and Cariad, but he lacked the strength to fight anymore. His fate had been sealed the moment that he received the cut to his foot, only he hadn’t known it then. All his efforts to communicate with the threads and to escape had been a waste of time. Even if he had achieved those things, he would still have died somewhere out in the wilderness, alone, finally succumbing to the infection he’d contracted days previously. Or had it been weeks? He’d lost track of time.

  The water continued to seep in, arriving through a gap between the walls and the floor. It was a hair crack, not the wide space through which the threads had forced jets of water to clean out the cell.

  Ethan lay still as the water crept up his body. He turned his head to study it. The liquid was slightly murky—river water. Should he sit up? It would only delay the inevitable and he wasn’t sure if he was able to.

  The light went out.

  It was the first time Ethan had been in darkness since the threads had recaptured him after his escape. He was immediately disoriented. The solid black all around seemed to press in on him. His hands splayed out, gripping the floor, seeking reassurance in its firm levelness. Some sense of his orientation returned and his breathing slowed a little.

  The water continue to rise. As it covered more of his body he grew colder, though the chill brought a small amount of relief from the pain of his foot. The water crept up over his ears, distorting his hearing. His breathing sounded loud and he also heard a shifting, groaning noise like a large object moving. Was it the sound of his chamber opening to allow the river water in?

  Ethan wished the creatures would leave him alone to die in peace.

  From somewhere, he found the energy to brace himself against the floor with his hands and push himself slowly upright. The gradual filling of his cell with river water was dreadful. Though it would have been easier to lie still and accept that the end had finally come, brute instinct forced Ethan to fight for a few more minutes of life.

  He moved backward, sliding through the rising water, until his back hit a wall. There, slowly and with great difficulty, he managed to eventually rise to his feet. By this time the water was up to his knees. Had he remained lying down it would have covered his face.

  Leaning against the wall, balanced on one leg while lifting the other gingerly off the floor, Ethan wondered if he should make one final recording—a last report on what was happening to him. He decided against it. He couldn’t imagine that his words would do anything other than horrify whoever listened to them.

  In case he changed his mind in his final moments, he lifted the recorder off his neck and tossed it across the chamber. The device thunked against the opposite wall and splashed into the water.

  The floor dropped from beneath his feet. Ethan fell into the water, cursing. More of it had flushed suddenly into the chamber and Ethan found himself almost sinking into the new depth. After some moments of struggle when he hit his infected foot against the floor more than once, his grasping hands finally found the wall and his good foot made contact. He could stand upright once more.

  Something brushed his leg. The touch was so light Ethan almost thought he imagined it, but his previous encounters with threads that dragged him into the river remained too vivid in his memory. He knew exactly what that touch meant. The thread creatures had come for him. That was why they’d dropped the chamber floor—so they could enter the chamber.

  Though he knew the gesture was useless, Ethan reached down and grasped the tendril that was winding around his ankle. He pulled at it, but its grip only tightened. The sensation wasn’t painful yet. Ethan wondered what the threads had in mind.

  He tugged at the tentacle with two hands, though it was hard to reach it and keep his face out of the water. Another thread arrived, writhing over his arms and hands, and another. They spiraled around and up his leg. They twisted over his arms. He could feel their delicate touch on his waist. There was nothing he could do to stop them.

  A lightning bolt of pain shot out from his infected foot. The threads had that too. Agony blinding his mind, Ethan fought. Thinking was impossible. He could only react. Then he was under the water. The threads were all over him. Their probing tips slid across every part of his body.

  Ethan’s head bobbed above the water. He drew in deep lungfuls of air and yelled out his pain. The threads were drawing tighter around his infected leg. His agony peaked higher. Dimly, he heard himself screaming.

  Then he knew no more.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Cariad was on her way from the shuttle field to Osias’ office when a woman stopped her in the street.

  “Is it true?” the woman asked.

  “Is what true?” Cariad countered, stalling. She didn’t know how much the Leader wanted the colonists to know about the approaching unidentified starship.

  “Is it true we’re going to be attacked by aliens?” The woman grabbed Cariad’s arm. “Are we are all going to die?”

  “Please let go of me,” said Cariad. “I’m going to speak to the Leader. I’m sure he’ll make an announcement soon.”

  Her face collapsing in despair, the woman released her grip on Cariad. “So it is true. After everything we’ve been through, it’s all going to be for nothing.”

  She seemed to be speaking to herself rather than responding to Cariad’s words. Cariad left her quickly before she could ask her anything else.

  Osias’ office was busy with people who wanted answers to similar questions. Clearly, Addleson hadn
’t managed to prevent the Mistral’s crew from comming the settlement with the news. Osias had wisely installed a secretary in his outer office and the man was dealing with the agitated, anxious visitors calmly and efficiently, asking them to take a ticket and wait their turn.

  When he saw Cariad arrive, however, he waved her over. “You can go straight in.”

  “Hey,” someone protested. “She only just got here. I’ve been waiting ages.”

  “She has a prior appointment,” said the secretary.

  Cariad went through into the inner office, where she found Osias on a live comm. He was speaking to Addleson, who was giving him an update on the data they had on the alien ship. Osias motioned for Cariad to sit down.

  “Thanks,” he said to Addleson. “As soon as you find out anything else, let me know.” He closed the comm, rubbed his face with both hands, and let out a sigh. “Just when I think we’re getting back on track, making some progress, something else happens.”

  “This might not be the disaster everyone’s thinking it is,” Cariad said. “We don’t know for sure that it’s a starship. We’re in a relatively unexplored region of space. We don’t know what’s out there. The scanners could be picking up a new type of astronomical object. And if it is some kind of spacecraft, it might not belong to an alien race. Perhaps it’s another ship sent from Earth after the Mistral.” Cariad was trying to be optimistic, but she knew her suggestions were unlikely to hold weight, especially considering what she’d learned from watching Steen and Mina’s holo.

  “And if it is an alien craft,” Osias said, “maybe they don’t want to kill us.”

  “Exactly.”

  Osias sighed again. “Yet we have to respond as if we’re about to be attacked. We can’t wait until we’re under bombardment before we take precautions to protect ourselves. That would be foolish.”

  He was right, of course. “Have you decided what those precautions entail?” Cariad asked.

  “No, I haven’t. Strangely enough, my experience as a mechanic didn’t prepare me for warfare with alien races.” Osias’ tone was bitter.

  It was the first time Cariad had heard him speak in such a way. He was clearly feeling out of his depth and overwhelmed. “Osias, whatever you decide, people will stand behind you. No one is expecting you to work miracles.”

  “That’s lucky, because I happen to be all out of them right now.”

  “If this ship does attack,” Cariad said, “the Mistral can provide some defense, but we need to protect the rest of the population as best we can. Though I’m not sure how to go about it. We don’t know what weapons might be used against us.”

  “I’m also not sure what to do about everyone aboard the Nova Fortuna,” said Osias. “Is it going to be safer for them to remain on the ship or come down to the surface?”

  “I don’t know. The Nova Fortuna is one massive target and it hardly carries any weaponry. It’s also very slow to maneuver. I think it might be best to evacuate it. Planetside, we’re harder to hit, especially if people are spread out and well hidden.”

  “That’s what I was thinking. The settlement’s another prime target. I’ll have to move everyone out, but where do I send them? Anywhere outside an electric fence isn’t safe after dark.”

  Cariad’s chest tightened. She’d forgotten about the sluglimpets.

  The door to Osias’ office flew open.

  “No, I won’t wait,” Aubriot yelled at Osias’ secretary as he strode into the room.

  The secretary was right behind him. “I’m sorry,” he said to Osias. “I tried to tell him.”

  “It’s okay.” Osias turned to Aubriot. “If you’re going to force your way in, the least you can do is close the door.”

  It was the secretary who closed it, however, while Aubriot walked to Osias’ desk and sat down next to Cariad. “One of you is going to tell me what’s going on. And no bullshitting. I had enough of that from your bouncer, Osias. What’s this alien ship everyone’s talking about?”

  Osias looked exasperated. “You tell him,” he said to Cariad.

  “A few hours ago, the Mistral’s scanners picked up an unidentified object heading directly toward Concordia. From its composition, the object seems to have been manufactured.”

  “So it is an alien ship,” said Aubriot.

  “Unless it’s from Earth,” Cariad said, “that seems to be a valid conclusion.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Well put,” said Osias.

  “What are you going to tell everyone?” Cariad asked the Leader.

  “The truth, of course.”

  “Aren’t you worried that people will panic?”

  “They’ll panic for sure,” Osias replied. “It’s the only reasonable reaction in the circumstances. They’ll panic, then I’ll tell them what to do, and then they’ll calm down and do it.”

  Cariad smiled. This sounded more like the pragmatic, resourceful Osias she knew. “Sounds like a good plan.”

  “Thanks,” Osias said. “I just thought of it. Now I only need to work on the details.”

  “How long till the ship gets here?” asked Aubriot.

  Cariad replied, “About four days.”

  “Bomb shelters,” Aubriot announced. “You need to get everyone to dig bomb shelters, but outside the settlement. Go deep enough underground and it won’t make a lot of difference what they throw at us.”

  “That won’t work,” Cariad said. “Outside the settlement is sluglimpet territory. The only other safe place is the farming district, and the aliens will probably be able to recognize the signs of activity there, too, making it another obvious target.”

  “Simple,” said Aubriot. “Dig tunnels from inside the settlement to bomb shelters outside. The sluglimpets don’t burrow, do they?”

  “I don’t think so,” Cariad replied, making a mental note to ask Kes.

  “Then the only way for them into the shelters will be through the settlement. As long as the electric fence holds, everyone will be safe. If the fence goes, they wouldn’t have been safe anyway.”

  It was a brutal way of looking at it but true nonetheless. As Aubriot seemed to have all the answers Cariad asked, “What about the Nova Fortuna? Do you think we should evacuate it?”

  “It’s a bloody sitting duck. Of course we have to evacuate it.”

  That meant the one hundred and twenty-three fetuses that Cassie and Florian had created would have to be abandoned. If the ship was attacked, any disruption to the sensitive gestation systems could result in their deaths. With no one available to correct imbalances or make repairs, one hundred and twenty-three lives would be lost before they’d even begun. Yet Aubriot was correct. Everyone aboard had to come down to the surface in case the Nova Fortuna was attacked.

  “Right,” Aubriot said. “I’ll head up to the Mistral.”

  “Why?” Osias asked. “What are you planning on doing up there?”

  “Help with the defense. I reckon I know weapon systems pretty well and I love battle tactics. One of my favorite hobbies.”

  Aubriot was energized and back on form. Making decisions. Bossing everyone around. Most of the time, it was extremely annoying. For once, Cariad appreciated this side of him. As he went to leave, she said, “Aubriot, wait a second. What do you think about the Guardians? Do you think we should wake them up?”

  For the first time since he’d entered the room, Aubriot seemed stumped for an answer. “I don’t know about that. Creepy bastards. I didn’t have much of a chance to get to know them. I’ll leave that one up to you two.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Florian was being serious for once. His earnest face looked out at Cariad from the interface screen. “No,” he said. “No way. I’m not leaving them.”

  “I know how you feel,” Cariad said, “but I wasn’t asking you a question. I’m telling you. You and Cassie must evacuate. Get the next shuttle down here. You can stay in someone’s spare room until the bomb shelters are built.”

  “Cariad,” Flori
an replied, “I know you’re my boss and you can fire me if you like, but I’m not leaving a hundred and twenty-three babies to fend for themselves while the Nova Fortuna is under attack. The ship’s massive. It’s very unlikely it could be destroyed, but if it receives a hit the gestation systems could go haywire or even shut down. You know as well as I do that all it would take would be one little alteration to the temperature or nutrients or oxygen and that would be it. Someone has to be here to keep the systems working. I’m not having the deaths of over a hundred babies on my hands.”

  “They aren’t babies,” Cariad said. “They’re… ” She thought of the little fetuses inside their gestation sacs. “Okay, they’re babies. I know I’m asking a lot, but we can start again. We can replace them. We can’t replace you. Please, Florian. Please, come down to the surface where you’ll be safer.”

  “I’m sorry, Cariad.”

  She paused. The truth was, she would have done exactly the same as her tech if she were in his position. She swallowed. “Okay. I understand. I have a better solution. I’ll come up there and take over from you. I don’t want you to risk your life. Cassie needs you.”

  “I’m going to have to say no again,” Florian replied. “You’re our genetic specialist. The colony needs you more than it needs me.”

  “And I’m not abandoning Florian anyway,” Cassie piped up. Her face squeezed in next to Florian’s on Cariad’s screen.

  “What?” Florian said. “No. You have to go down, Cassie.”

  “You think I’d leave you to look after these babies all by yourself? If you’re staying, so am I. I won’t hear another word about it.”

  Florian looked his future wife in the eyes and turned to Cariad. “I guess that’s it, then. Don’t worry, Cariad. From what I heard, no one even knows if this thing that’s heading for us is actually a starship, let alone if it plans on attacking. It’s a lot of panic about nothing if you ask me.”