by I. O. Adler
“You can’t put any of this on me. Why couldn’t your new friends just leave things be the way the council planned it?”
“Because the One is unstable. It was content to be isolated when survivors first built the Framework. I was surprised it behaved so well during the council meeting. But it’s never stopped trying to subvert the other survivors.”
“Sounds familiar.”
“Look, I understand you’re upset, honey. You don’t know the ins and outs of what’s happening here. Keeping you from striking a deal with our government was a matter of prudence. You sometimes react without thinking things through. The One has lured individuals to its ship, never to be seen again.”
“Does anyone believe your scary stories?”
“They’re not stories. The One just killed two of our crew. This isn’t a joke. We had to keep a radio block up to prevent it from infiltrating our internal communication matrix. If you don’t believe me, look at She Who Waits. Her people are sensitive. I don’t quite understand it, but they can be overwhelmed by certain types of brainwaves. That’s what the Melded are protecting themselves from.”
“Are you talking about psychic activity?”
Her mom laughed. “Nothing silly like that. Some of what the Melded know about the Dragomen is speculative. The Cordice know about as much. But part of the Dragoman toolbox includes matching their own neural wave patterns with those they are communicating with. Not everyone manipulates sound like we do. Translating for us is child’s play compared to what She Who Waits has to do with the One.”
“Will she recover?”
The doctor chittered as if he had been listening. But it appeared as if he was addressing Ovo, who picked up a bug-sized tool and held it against the surface of the shell as the doctor continued to probe.
“I don’t know,” Sylvia said. “Let’s hope so for our sake in case we need to talk to the Russians, the Chinese, or Japan.”
A gnawing worry twisted inside Carmen’s stomach. Was this her fault? She had seen what had happened to She Who Waits after the initial communication with the One, yet had asked her to speak with it again. And now the translator had succumbed to what? A seizure? A mental affliction caused by trying to think like that monstrosity?
She Who Waits had made clear she was but an apprentice. And now Carmen might have lost her.
Carmen didn’t hear the airlock open. She felt a surge of adrenaline as the Melded former Primary entered. The worm had to duck as it squeezed into the shuttle bay.
“What’s it doing here?”
When the worm blurped, her mom did the talking. “We’re about to begin our last set of maneuvers. But before that happens, the former Primary Executive wants you to know about the One and what its people did that triggered the Big Wipe.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
The worm exhaled puffs of reeking vapor when it spoke. Even if unintended, the alien’s boisterous tone struck Carmen’s ears as overbearing and disdainful.
Her mom translated. “We’re about to approach Earth and you need to understand the situation.”
“Then please explain,” Carmen said.
“The former Primary wishes that the stars will guide your thinking and grant you wisdom. It’s a customary statement, not intended to imply a belief in a higher power.”
“Get on with it, Mom.”
The worm went on for about a minute before it finished.
Sylvia took a moment to compose herself. “The One isn’t just a danger to us and our crew. Their kind’s ships have always been groundbreaking. But their tech has never been known for being safe. It was one of their star chasers, essentially a freighter faster than anything anyone on the Framework possesses, which exploded and took out most of the survivor fleet. Two more of their ships were navigating past Earth when they likewise went up. The only reason the Melded consented to join the Framework was that the One’s current vessel doesn’t possess one of their antimatter drives and is little more than a runabout, never mind its size.”
“You’re saying the One’s this big enemy?”
Her mom didn’t wait for the worm to answer. “No. The enemy is real. But the One is dangerous and is willing to risk everyone’s lives to rebuild one of their ships so it can flee.”
“What happened with those ships?”
The worm churned out a long answer. It and Sylvia had a momentary nonverbal exchange before she explained.
“We don’t know exactly. Either a chain reaction or some guidance system caused a critical error. They had four ships. They all exploded. Unfortunately, anyone in range who might have recorded the event didn’t survive. Those who did were either lucky enough to be behind a planet like Mars or far enough away that they only suffered the partial effect of the explosions. And by explosion, I’m talking about an event which affected our entire world.”
“Why is the worm explaining this to me?”
“Because I asked him to,” Sylvia said without missing a beat. “We weren’t kidnapping you or She Who Waits. We’re going to bring the harvester back to the Framework like we said. But now you know why we’re afraid of what will happen if we delay our departure. Because the Framework, by mutual accord, will distribute its resources to everyone. The Melded are concerned about the delay. Our adversary will find us if we stick around. And we can’t wait for the One or anyone else to waste our chance at bringing the fight to the enemy.”
Carmen took a moment to process what her mother was saying. Was about to bite her thumbnail but stopped herself.
“Is there really an enemy out there?”
“You saw the Cordice’s replay of what happened on their world.”
“Yeah, more than once. But do they know the survivors are here?”
Sylvia and the worm had another exchange, which only appeared to make the former Primary angry.
“It can’t be said with certainty,” Sylvia said. “But when they show up, worlds end. They’ve followed countless survivors across our galaxy. No one gets to linger like what we’re doing now. The Melded possess data models on the time it takes for the enemy to appear in a system before they find any trace of a starfaring race’s passage. Even as they dismantle any remaining technology, they keep hunting. Which means if anyone left a navigation beacon or signal relay or a remote ship factory like the Cordice visited before making this rendezvous, it’s part of a trail which the enemy will follow.”
Carmen gave in and nibbled at a cuticle. “So this is your hard sell.”
“Carmen…”
“We’re going to Earth with this news. They’ll listen to you. At least get this out there.”
“You heard what Earth wants us to do, didn’t you?” Sylvia asked. “They want us to land in the desert. That won’t be fast. There’s no time for a face-to-face.”
“Then get on the radio and start talking.”
Carmen returned her attention to the doctor as he continued to inspect She Who Waits. He hadn’t breached her shell. Her colors remained a soupy black.
The worm chuffed before heading back to the airlock. The doctor packed his equipment and hurried to follow. Ovo tapped on his device as if recording some last detail from the doctor’s examination of the translator.
“Time to get ready for the last leg of our flight,” Sylvia said. “I can stay with you.”
Carmen stooped to inspect She Who Waits to see what had been done to her. “I’d prefer you didn’t. I want to be alone with her.”
“You’ll be more comfortable with us in one of our beds.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Her mother left her. Ovo lingered as if distracted and bumped into Carmen. He slipped something into her hand. It felt metallic, about the size of a credit card. He joined Sylvia in the airlock, leaving Carmen alone with the disabled Dragoman.
***
The hard burn was anything but easy. Carmen second-guessed her decision to stay aboard the shuttle with every passing moment as the pressure on her body doubled and redoubled. She couldn’t
stop her shoulder from spasming. A twitch formed on her lips.
She didn’t dare move to see if She Who Waits was okay. Could only hope and pray.
She dozed but it wasn’t restful. She dreamed she was sleeping while being pinned down by an ocean of invisible iron plates.
The gadget Ovo had handed her didn’t have any controls she could find. The card was matte tan and smooth but for one rough corner, and lighter than a strip of aluminum. She kept it by her leg.
Because of the g’s her face couldn’t register her surprise when Ovo spoke from the card. “Can you hear me?”
It proved difficult to make vowel sounds. “Ngg. Gnng. Mmm here,” she said through her clenched jaw.
Ovo’s tone was irritatingly cheerful, as if their maneuvers were causing him no issues. “I can share with you what I’m seeing on our visual sensors. We’re approaching your world. We can see the harvester.”
A floating image winked into place above her. Earth was bright and blue and the sight of it stirred an unexpected yearning. She realized she was sick of seeing the interior of the shuttle, sick of space, and wanted nothing more than to set foot on solid ground and drink in the sun and the sky.
A series of orange lines traced the paths of several nearly invisible objects. A chain of spheres was strung out from the haze and blur of the atmosphere and stretched into the blackness of space. The highest of the harvester sections caught the glint of sunlight. The last portion of the Cordice ship was many times larger than the other spheres. This was the section that housed the power plant.
What she lacked was a point of reference. How far away were they? She reminded herself she’d find out soon enough. She drank in the sight of her homeworld and let herself believe her journey might be almost over.
She realized she could breathe normally. Ever so gradually, the strain on her body had finally eased. With a last look at the image of Earth, she propped herself up. While groggy, she felt steady enough to sit.
She Who Waits remained in her place. Nothing had changed.
Carmen considered the card Ovo had given her. Felt bitter at the grim thought that the worm and the rest of the Melded were probably spying on her, never mind the pretense of Ovo slipping her their equivalent of a mobile phone. She put it in a back pocket.
“I shouldn’t have made you talk to the One. You were trying to tell me how hard it was. I didn’t listen.”
There was no way to know If She Who Waits was conscious inside her shell or able to hear her.
The display kept floating and followed Carmen as she adjusted her suit and pulled up the helmet. It felt bulky as she was wearing it on top of the emergency suit her mother had provided, but after repeated encounters with hostile atmospheres, it was also comforting.
Ovo spoke again from the card. “You can put the device on your arm beneath your clothing. It will adhere to the skin.”
“I’ll pass. What else can it do besides let us talk?”
He hesitated before answering. “It allows you access to our communication network. I can speak directly with you. But…don’t let anyone else see.”
She now wanted to dump the device, as she couldn’t gauge his intent. Did he only want a secret way to communicate? Was this a confidence ploy? But she had to hope the Melded were done with their schemes. And Ovo had gotten into trouble once trying to help her. She’d keep it for the moment.
“How far away are we?”
“Moments. Thirty minutes. The former Primary wishes to board a section of the harvester to inspect it.”
“I’m coming.”
Carmen was about to repeat herself when he didn’t reply, but Ovo finally said, “Your mother expected this. She will meet you outside the shuttle and you can go to the harvester together.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Sylvia waited for Carmen and Ovo on the opposite side of the airlock. She wore her own pressure suit, made of dark, thick material with no external attachments. The garment was sleek and streamlined, and her mother moved easily. She had a simple helmet clipped to the back of the suit. Carmen’s own suit felt utilitarian in comparison.
“So we’re going for the harvester,” Carmen said. “How does this work?”
Her mother gave her a hands-on examination, as if she were about to head off for her first day of grade school. “We inspect it. You’ve spent more time piloting it than I did. If it reset, there may not be a breathable atmosphere. So keep your helmet on. We won’t bring the frigate too close. The Melded have their own small shuttle we can use.”
Sylvia led them down a main corridor to a ladder. When Ovo moved to climb, Sylvia stopped him.
He looked at her for a moment, then at Carmen. “I am not to join you.”
“Why not? Mom, what did you say to him? I want Ovo to come with us.”
“The shuttle is small. The former Primary takes up quite a bit of space.”
“No. You and I can do this. And I’m not going anywhere with that worm.”
“‘That worm’ may be difficult, but the former Primary has the best computer tech the Melded have. There are some things impossible to do remotely. Once we finish our inspection, we’ll see if the harvester can be reassembled or if we’ll need to do it manually and tow it back to the Framework.”
Ovo sheepishly stepped back from the ladder.
Carmen felt flustered. “Is he in trouble?”
Her mom’s smile looked genuine. “The Melded are individuals capable of independent thoughts and actions. That should reassure you about your concerns over my state of mind. Ovo will be fine. He just has a big heart and seems to like you. It’s been a challenging few days for everyone.”
Sylvia wasn’t joking about the size of the shuttle. The worm came from behind them and barged past without a word or grunt. An automated door opened upward just in time as the former Primary slid into the shuttle.
Carmen followed her mom, and they both slid into the single compartment, where a pair of chairs appeared as the hatch closed. The worm occupied the rear, where something that looked like an airbag slowly deployed. The shuttle shook as the former primary got comfortable. By the time the worm was finished moving, it looked like it was snuggled into a giant bean bag.
“Blorp.”
Sylvia leaned over and connected an over-the-head strap that secured Carmen to her chair before likewise preparing herself. With a soft series of clicks outside the shuttle, they were free. While the g’s had dropped following their deceleration, the sudden weightlessness took Carmen by surprise. But she immediately felt secure and realized the seats even in the tiny shuttle were more comfortable than the crash couch on She Who Waits’ vessel.
“This is better.”
“Told you,” her mom said.
With a wave of her hand, Sylvia brought up a control panel. But she didn’t seem to have to do anything as the shuttle poured on thrust. The forward viewing port was small and Carmen could see little but blackness. Sylvia touched a dial, and the view increased to reveal a curtain of black all around them. An immense dark shape gliding by turned out to be the moon as they flew past its terminator to the dayside.
The bright cratered surface glowed unlike anything Carmen had ever seen. Many of the depressions had blue and gray fields of dust hidden in the shadows. The screen dimmed as the shuttle took in a view of the sun. And there before the brilliant star hung the harvester’s rear section, an inky round shape which grew larger and larger as they closed in.
Sylvia touched a button and the shuttle did the rest, aligning itself to some unseen section of the Cordice ship as they continued forward.
Carmen felt a fearful rush as they got closer. Without a point of reference for scale, it seemed as if they were about to collide with the harvester. The portion of the ship must have been larger than she realized, as it soon filled the entirety of their display and they still hadn’t stopped. But then a sequence of reverse pulses from the engines slowed them and a last burst brought the shuttle to a gentle glide.
Someth
ing hummed, and a shimmy of the floor told her they had docked.
The worm wasn’t waiting. For such a large creature, it moved quickly. It floated along as it sprang from its cushion to the hatch. The hatch was barely open before it pushed through into the harvester’s interior.
Carmen tried to disconnect the strap that held her to the chair but wasn’t finding the release.
Her mom reached over. “Here. Let me, honey.”
The harness came loose. Carmen tried to stand, but her weightlessness made her twist and sail up into the ceiling of the shuttle. Sylvia grabbed an ankle. With her own feet planted on the deck, she brought Carmen down. Then she inspected Carmen’s suit and helmet. She had hers on already, and it obscured her face behind an angled visor.
Carmen tapped the floor a few times with her feet before sensing a magnetic action that kept her connected. But walking proved problematic. It was like trying to take a stroll on a giant magnetic plate while wearing ice skates. She almost tumbled, but her suit’s feet wouldn’t let her pitch forward. A hand on the wall helped, and she managed to make it out the hatch right behind her mother.
While the individual spheres had always been self-contained rooms, defaulting to a larger ring shape with generous hallways and headspace when joined, the inside of the power plant section didn’t appear to have visitors in mind. With limited vertical clearance, even Carmen had to duck. She could imagine one of the Cordice’s doglike skeletons upon which their moss colonies had lived fitting perfectly inside the corridor. Carmen experienced a stab of claustrophobia. The tight space felt as if it were growing tighter as her shoulders, elbows, and helmet scraped on the tiny hallway’s interior.
That it was pitch-black didn’t help.
A forward-facing white light popped to life on her mom’s suit as she led the way. Up ahead, a soft glow came into sight from where the worm had gone. How the former Primary had navigated the hallway so quickly made Carmen wonder grimly if he had any bones inside his giant frame.