by I. O. Adler
“You’re here for her?” Dr. Leavitt asked. “You were on board the sphere. The earlier violence…did you believe we were hurting her?”
Hurting her?
The shadow tried to interpret the doctor’s tone. Barrett was coming to, despite his euphoria. A distraction, surely, but if the shadow pushed the neural transmitters too hard, he would falter. Get sick. Vomit. And the shadow would once again have to flee.
It tried to speak, but Barrett’s jaw was clenched. Spittle flew from between his teeth, both from excitement and the rising urge to throw off the shadow’s control.
It wanted to hear more from the doctor. It managed a hard groan and then summoned a tender gesture from Barrett’s memories.
Barrett caressed Jenna’s cheek.
The doctor came closer, easing past her staff, who looked eager to step aside and back off. “She’s going to be okay. We’re trying to help her. All of us. You have nothing to fear.”
She had her hands at her side. She slipped the sensor wand back onto her belt, then produced a tablet and set it down on a rolling tray table.
“If you can’t speak, can you show me you understand?”
The tablet displayed white with an on-screen keyboard.
“You can draw on that. Or write. If Barrett is still there, he can help you. You’re some kind of symbiote, yes?”
The shadow considered the device. Barrett recognized it. And while spoken words wouldn’t come out and the letters remained a mystery, the shadow realized that shapes and visuals might convey sufficient meaning.
It touched the screen. A thick gray line followed. It drew a circle.
Dr. Leavitt was nodding. “The sphere. You came on the sphere. It’s intact and undamaged. We have it.”
As the shadow feared. But they hadn’t moved the sphere. And at the moment, it appeared as if they couldn’t control it. It reexamined the machines around Jenna Vincent. To its best estimation, none of them were broadcasting beyond conveying simple streams of data to one computer.
Jenna Vincent remained disconnected from the stolen Cordice vessel. The humans had nothing matching the ubiquitous Framework com nodes that might link a pilot to the harvester. Whatever machinery they were bringing to bear outside was so far below the technology levels of the Cordice that the humans had no hope of using the advanced spaceship. Which meant Jenna Vincent would have to be returned to the harvester to allow the humans to seize it.
And without her, they had nothing.
It reached for Jenna. Barrett convulsed as the shadow disconnected. It had just enough of a charge. If it could stop her heart, it wouldn’t matter what else the humans did. The shadow could flee and slip away far from the hospital. Hide. Rest. It dared ponder what else it might accomplish on this terrestrial world if it could feed and replicate.
The doctor had gotten closer still, and then she flicked a small switch on her tool belt.
A previously unnoticed device not connected to Jenna Vincent cut loose with a thrum and a blast of searing sound that crashed into the shadow like a wave of pain. The world around it went dark as its senses became overwhelmed. It barely noticed as it collapsed to the floor. It lost control of its limbs, unable to reach for anything to pull itself to safety. The sound was everywhere, crushing it, tearing it down, and rupturing its soft tissue.
It forgot its brood, forgot the ones it served, forgot everything as a base need overwhelmed it.
Survive.
But the relentless blast of intense noise drove down on it like a pressure wave. The sonic assault paralyzed the ring of nerves which allowed the shadow to move and breathe.
It was dying.
Chapter Nineteen
She Who Waits scooted into the shuttle not long after Carmen and her mother had boarded. The translator moved past the crash couch and over to the altar at the front of the hold. Seven red lights popped up. Within her shell, bands of yellow ran thick, followed by blooming flashes of white.
None of her bots had joined her. The nook where the bots stored themselves stood empty.
Sylvia had gotten Carmen seated and out of her sweatshirt. She plunged the garment into the sink. “We’ll need soap. A new outfit would be better.”
“Delivery might take a few days,” Carmen said.
“Just because things are going to change, that doesn’t mean we have to be uncomfortable. If this ship can’t make you a new set of clothes, ours can.”
Carmen probed her elbows, which were tender and pink. She also had a lump on her head. “It was a joke, Mom.”
Sylvia wrung out the sweatshirt and hung it at the foot of the crash couch. She pulled off the smooth leatherlike robe she wore and handed it to Carmen. “It will keep you warm. It can wrap itself around your entire body in case there’s depressurization or a loss of oxygen. You’ll be able to breathe for at least ten minutes until you can get someplace safe.”
“This is a space suit?”
“Hardly. Just an emergency measure.”
Sylvia’s sleeveless undershirt revealed her shoulders, which, like her arms, were covered in a network of black lines.
Carmen rose to inspect her mother. “Mom, let me see.”
Along one side of her neck, several tiny discs of shiny dark metal were set into the flesh. A patch of skin on her back was completely covered in the foreign material. But when Carmen tried to move the shirt for a better look, her mother moved away.
“That’s enough,” Sylvia said. “There’s no need to look at that. It will only upset you.”
“I’m already upset. You say they saved you.”
“That meant surgery. The doctor told me everything. He didn’t take any part of me that wasn’t broken. And he added nothing without my consent.”
“But what if you’re not fully you?”
“Stop that. I’m me. Just because I left some of my memories inside the simulation doesn’t mean I don’t possess my full faculties. I checked myself after each procedure. The Melded have computers which can tell you anything about what’s going on inside your body.”
“And what about your mind? Can they do that too?”
Her mom let out a sharp sigh. “You’ll just have to trust me. I—wait a minute, dear.”
Carmen recognized the tone of voice of the distracted parent trying to drive while her two daughters were fighting in the back seat.
“Who are you talking to?” Carmen asked.
Her mom ignored her.
Carmen went to She Who Waits. “What’s happening? Is it the Melded? Can you hear what they’re saying?”
“No. Designate Melded are speaking on their closed network and have shut me out for the moment. I am trying to use my remote units to establish a makeshift network but have lost all but two of them to unknown malfunctions.”
“Is it that thing on the elevator?”
“Possibly. But the units were in different zones of the Framework.”
“So maybe there’s more than the one creature which hurt Ovo? Please tell me there’s some kind of defenses in this place.”
“Defenses are lacking. Designate Melded are one of the few who possess weapons and as you’ve seen, they’ve caused problems.”
“Is this shuttle safe?”
“There are too many variables. I am broadcasting a warning to the other survivors. If the Framework is compromised, then each must sequester themselves as best as possible.”
Carmen looked over at her mother. Was this the Melded’s fault? Had they set something loose on the Framework to force the hands of the survivors who wanted no part in their rush to war with the enemy?
She Who Waits continued to show bands of yellow along with a cascade of diamonds. “A ship has detached and is heading towards us.”
“It’s the Melded, isn’t it? They’re going to force you to come with them. Mom? Tell them to stop!”
Sylvia had fingers on her head as if concentrating. “It’s not Melded. Our frigate remains docked. It’s the One. It’s heading here and signaling the shutt
le. It’s dangerous, Carmen. If you’ve ever trusted me about anything, it needs to be this. That creature will do whatever it has to to get what it wants. The only reason it’s here is its ship’s main reactor is out.”
“I am…speaking with designate the One,” She Who Waits stammered. “The One asks that we detach from the Framework and dock with them.”
“Why?” Carmen asked.
“Because the One agrees with the assessment that the station is in danger. And it doesn’t trust designate Melded and insists on joining us in our journey to Earth to reacquire the harvester.”
Sylvia Vincent came closer. “No. Tell the One to go back to the Framework. We worked through this already. You’re coming with us. The One will jeopardize our mission. I know Earth and my government. If they see the One, it’s going to unsettle a lot of people. And I heard the One in the council meeting. Refuse the offer.”
She Who Waits’ colors took on a stormy hue.
“The Melded ship is on high alert,” Sylvia pressed. “We’re going to intervene. We have a cannon which can cut the One’s ship in half before it tries to dock. Tell it to pull back.”
Carmen looked at both of them before placing a hand on the translator’s shell. “Don’t let her bully you. It’s your choice. I was scared by the One when I thought it was trying to get at me and Ovo in the elevator. Its chorus of voices was like nothing I’ve ever heard. But it was trying to warn us. There’s more than two options here, She Who Waits. The Melded have the best ship, but they need you to help. And you don’t have to dock with the One for it to come along to Earth, do you?”
“What are you suggesting?” She Who Waits asked.
She ignored her mom’s scowl. “I’m suggesting you tell the Melded doctor or whoever’s in charge to let the One dock with their frigate. Then we go to my world together.”
Chapter Twenty
The shadow felt itself being lifted. By a tool, perhaps? But as it couldn’t hear or see after the assault by the hidden weapon, it could only conclude, feebly probing with one of its arms, that whatever metal implements scooped it up weren’t exposed hands.
Human voices were little more than distant murmurs.
The humans had it. It tried to recall what else had happened since the ambush. Couldn’t.
Whatever held it unceremoniously plopped it into what felt like a tank of glass. The hard, cool surface had no give and no seams. The shadow remained too weak to free itself.
Surely the humans would destroy it once they realized what it was. After all, their kind would suffer the fate of all the other starfaring races. And the shadow served those who would author their fate.
Its mission? A failure.
It had succeeded in following the harvester to Earth. Yet the ship remained accessible to those who might bypass the security features. Surely not the humans. But others would follow. The Melded had proven themselves most durable, an unforeseen hodgepodge of survivors who had transformed themselves physically into a new breed of life forms not only intent on perpetuating their own existence but also willing to fight against those beyond the Wall.
As if such resistance were possible.
Easier to stop the tide of entropy that would eventually end the universe.
But the fact that there were ones who dared take such a stand was an affront. The Melded’s purposeful defiance was something more offensive than the humans or the pathetic remnants of homeless nomads who clung to life near the system’s fourth world.
Could it count on its brood to finish them? Surely. But while the shadow breathed, it would serve. And to serve meant escape from the glass container which held it.
As its jangled nerves calmed it regained its sight. Light blazed down from above. Blinding, but not debilitating. It could tolerate intense illumination, but it knew the humans were now able to see it better than any other sentient ever had. So what if they learned its makeup?
Let them look. Let them probe and prod and waste their time while the true prize of the harvester remained out of their grasp.
Unless Jenna Vincent regained consciousness.
It tried not to let its agitation grow at the thought.
The Earth woman, like her sister, might prove resourceful. Both had piloted the harvester with no guidance or training. Truly, the Cordice invention was a terrible marvel, as it allowed even such backward creatures access to a ship no other survivors could build.
The humans, mere shadows themselves under the intense lights, left it alone.
It examined every inch of the space that contained it before curling up to rest.
Gauging time proved difficult. From its own observations, there was no variance of light. But the soldiers inside the examination room came and went with regularity.
Fourteen shift changes.
It rocked from side to side to test if it could move the container. It couldn’t. It resisted the urge to thrash more violently, guessing the humans had poised the sonic weapon to fire again if it made any obvious signs of trying to escape.
The doctor spoke. But her words remained meaningless. Was it an interrogation? A plea for understanding, a request for it to convey to its masters that the humans would submit to their fate?
It dismissed this last thought. Indulging in such wishes was a waste of time. If its kind allowed for such things, they wouldn’t be able to commit to their course of hunting down the scattered survivors.
The soldiers wheeled in more machines. Some beeped periodically. The doctor probed the outside of the container but never opened it. The shadow kept its composure, preparing to jump at the first opportunity. But it didn’t come.
The doctor departed. More shifts changed.
During the twentieth shift, the shadow felt Barrett approach. The familiar sensation was a warming buzz inside of it. It felt itself get giddy at the thought of contact even as it understood the other humans wouldn’t be foolish enough to let it touch him. Or would they?
His voice and that of one guard blended together. The shadow understood enough to know that when humans spoke over each other, it meant they were in disagreement. A strange way of communicating. But then Barrett got closer still and put his hand to the glass.
“You’re alive, you son of a bitch.”
The shadow sensed the hostility and wanted more. It punched the barrier where Barrett’s hand rested. Caused him to flinch, but Barrett’s hand returned. The shadow tried to understand the flurry of thoughts and emotions it could readily feel roiling within the man’s mind.
“Got them fooled,” he said. “They think you’re just a lost alien who caught the wrong ride. But I see you for what you are. You looked into my soul. But I saw yours. I know what you want. I know what you do, what your brood does.”
The dark feelings inside him grew bitter. The shadow caressed the black mood like a texture.
“You had your minute,” a guard beyond the light said. “Now get out of here before Dr. Leavitt comes back and we all get in trouble.”
“Don’t you get it, Private? We’re already in trouble. This monster wants to kill you, me, and everyone else that lives here or anyplace else in the galaxy. It’s all it knows. It can’t talk, won’t bargain, and sees us as an infection with no reason to exist. I say we fill this tank with diesel and burn it.”
“Agent Barrett…”
“Or we hit that switch and use that sonic blaster to finish it once and for—”
The shadow jumped, putting all its force into the glass. Barrett leaped back, shouting. The soldier shouted too. A piercing whistle stung its ears. More soldiers in hazard suits entered.
Bouncing from one side of the tank to the other, the shadow thrashed, but the thick walls of the container held firm. It pressed upward, trying to dislodge the clear lid. Then a soldier hit a switch.
The lights went dark as the machine pulverized the shadow into oblivion.
Chapter Twenty-One
Twin red translation lights throbbed heart-like above the altar at the front of the s
huttle. She Who Waits hadn’t spoken for over ten minutes.
Carmen was out of the loop with whatever negotiations were going on.
Her mom appeared to no longer be part of it either. She was inspecting the crash couch. “This is what she made for you? Carmen, surviving space travel isn’t a one-size-fits-all affair. You could suffer actual harm if you’re not protected. Come over to our ship. You’ll be more comfortable and safer.”
“I’m staying here. She Who Waits can make you a bed if you’re staying. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? So we can visit?”
“I don’t deserve that tone. This isn’t a game. We’ll be close enough to Earth soon and able to talk to Jenna. Then you’re going to have to make a choice which will change both your lives, and my grandsons’.”
“At least you’re remembering them now.”
Sylvia ignored the jab. “I can’t just watch you go back home to wait for the enemy to return.”
“And what are the other options? Go with you into space and fight against someone no one seems to have ever seen? Get real, Mom. I mean it. NASA would scrub a mission if there was even a small percentage of failure in their projections. And you want to take your family along for the ride?”
“It’s a little more complicated than that. There are other options for us to stay together.”
Carmen rubbed her arms with her hands. Had the shuttle gotten colder? “Do any of them not involve the Melded using force to get what they want? The Cordice aren’t giving up their ship so you can take them and their simulation wherever you decide to go. And I still haven’t heard of anyone else on the Framework who thinks fighting is a good idea. The Primary Executive was ready to leave once he got hold of the harvester. There’s got to be other ideas of what to do.”
“There are. Like I told you, while inside the sim I studied everything I could about the survivors and their ordeals. Running and hiding both mean waiting for what has become the inevitable. You could know all this too if you took the time to go into the sim. See it for yourself. Listen to everyone’s history. The enemy isn’t a bogeyman. They’ve ended countless worlds, genocide after genocide, with no warning and no mercy.”