by I. O. Adler
Four Arms moved to shove her back. She raised her hands and winced as the weapon barrel pressed against her face. When the doctor chittered, Four Arms ignored him.
But then he let her go. Four Arms, the doctor, and the other sentry all perked up. Four Arms lowered the weapon, looked aside, and clickety-clicked. The doctor pressed a feeler to an antenna. All the Melded hurried out of the room as if summoned.
In the hallway, an orange light blinked. While Carmen couldn’t hear an alarm, she knew the Melded were all linked on a communication network. And now something was happening. Four Arms lingered just outside.
She rose, leaning on the wall for support. No one stopped her when she went for Jenna and shook her shoulder. But her sister wouldn’t rouse.
The door shushed closed. The ship vibrated.
Were they moving? If so, there was no change in gravity. She pounded on the door. Pressed an ear to the metal. Footsteps rushed past. Perhaps her ears were playing tricks, but she thought someone in the distance was screaming. The cry was cut short, but was followed by the phump-phump-phump of Melded small-arms fire.
The shadow. They were hunting it. She tried to make sense of the commotion as she heard more voices. A shudder vibrated the wall. A thud and crash. Next came the sound of metal bending or tearing. Feet ran directly past her door, and then she strained her ears as a hush fell across the frigate.
A bellow punctuated the silence—raw, primal, and angry. The sound died away, but Carmen knew what it meant. The One was loose aboard the Melded frigate.
More weapon fire followed. Had the giant alien woken on its own, or did the shadow have something to do with it?
The door slid open. Her mom stood there with Four Arms. She pulled Carmen out into the corridor.
“What’s going on?” Carmen asked.
Her mom clutched her in one arm, her other holding a weapon. “There’s no time.” She nodded and Four Arms entered the holding cell and headed for Jenna.
The One’s roar erupted from down the hallway. A mass of flesh pushed around the nearest corner. A set of eyes locked on to them from within a series of folds. The thing’s mouths bit down on the floor, walls, and ceiling and pulled it forward.
“Run,” her mother said.
With a series of growls, the One charged their direction.
Carmen resisted, but her mother proved stronger and pulled her along. “No, wait! Jenna!”
She glimpsed Four Arms at the door with Jenna as he was driven back into the room. The One’s mass blocked the hall as it stopped at the door to the holding cell. A burst of gunfire and a scream followed, and then silence as the One thrust a portion of itself into their room. But much of its body remained in the corridor. Three multisegmented arms ending in misshapen hands with too many fingers slapped the floors and walls and scratched at metal as Carmen and her mother scrambled away.
The Melded worm waited at the open ramp leading off the ship. It let loose with a series of exclamations interspersed with puffs of its stinking breath.
Carmen wrenched free of her mother’s grip. “We have to go back for her.”
Her mom fired a long burst. The projectiles struck the One, but each impact merely rippled, doing nothing to slow the oncoming alien. It was like throwing pebbles at a tidal wave. Sylvia backed down the ramp, and the worm slithered out ahead of them.
“Going back isn’t possible,” Sylvia said. “We just lost most of our crew. We can’t stop that thing with our weapons.”
“This is your plan? What about Jenna?”
“We’ll come back for her.”
The three of them fled down the parking garage. The One paused as it extricated itself out of the frigate’s hatch. As it rose to its full height, it stood almost as tall as the center portion of the frigate and far wider than the ramp. It continued to swell. Eyes opened along its body and tentacles probed in all directions. How such a massive creature had squeezed itself into its own vessel, Carmen didn’t know. Jenna and Ovo were still inside the frigate, their fate uncertain.
The worm stopped at one of the parking garage’s stairwells. Glanced down at Carmen and Sylvia.
As if having received an order, her mom said, “We take the harvester. It’s our only chance. Carmen, will you help us?”
“Why would I do that?”
Her mother ushered her down the stairs. “Because contrary to what you believe, I don’t want that monstrosity loose. With the harvester we can stop it.”
“Stop it? It’s trying to stop you. Nothing’s changed! I won’t let you take the harvester.”
But Carmen followed Sylvia Vincent and the three of them emerged onto the roundabout drive which led to the emergency room entrance. A piece of Melded machinery the size of a gas station pump sat next to the harvester. The sphere stood open. There were no other Melded. Had the One killed all of them?
The worm went to the machine and plugged itself in. As it busied itself with the controls, Sylvia led Carmen into the sphere.
Everything was as it had been, with the three crash couches made of the harvester’s dark material occupying one end of the sphere and a simple console sitting near the center, along with the sink, which continued to trickle water. The bot still stood in the doorway where Carmen had left it.
From outside, the One howled. The raw cry echoed within the parking garage.
Sylvia guided Carmen along by the elbow. “We’ve made this easy for you. You lie down. An option will appear in your virtual display to reset the encryption. Once you select it, the harvester will no longer need you or Jenna to be in control. Then we can go about using it to help Earth and the Framework.”
“You’ve made it clear that wasn’t what you wanted it for.”
Movement outside the sphere caught Carmen’s attention. Creeping down the side of the garage came the One. It lowered itself like a giant water balloon, with dozens of arms and insectile legs easing its descent. And there, wrapped in a pair of tentacles, was Jenna. The One bore her along like it was carrying a piece of firewood.
Carmen gasped at the sight of the horror coming their way. “It has her.”
“Close the hatch,” Sylvia ordered.
“No. Why does it have Jenna? If it’s after you for what you did, then it doesn’t need her.”
The One was almost to the ground. Her mother looked distracted as the worm began shouting from outside. Was the worm giving orders, or was the Melded’s former leader scared?
Carmen took the opportunity and rushed back out of the sphere. Her mom called for her. But Carmen had heard the One speak at the Framework council and had witnessed its actions with the Melded. Despite its aggressiveness and horror show appearance, and the fact that talking to it had nearly driven She Who Waits mad, the One had declared its desire to save the harvester for the Framework.
Her heart was pounding like a kettledrum as she approached it. The One had almost finished its climb, easing itself into a gargantuan blob as it released its grip on the parking structure. Jenna was passed from one set of tentacles to a dozen hands that held her aloft and out of reach.
“You remember me?” Carmen called. “We’re on the same side. That’s my sister there. I’ll help you. Just put her down.”
A loud, stuttered gibbering erupted from a pair of mouths. It sounded as if the One was trying to say something and was restarting the sentence over and over. But it never stopped moving. It finished its descent and clawed its way forward towards the sphere.
Carmen ran ahead of it. “Let me unlock the harvester. We can make sure the Melded don’t take it. But put her down first.”
The arm came out of nowhere. It struck Carmen and knocked her aside. The One surged past, moving steadily faster. Through it all its mouths muttered and spat and it sounded like it was gasping for air. Something about the sounds reminded Carmen of the doctor she had encountered in the lower levels of the hospital.
Sylvia Vincent and the worm both got out of the way as it carried Jenna through the open side of the spher
e.
Carmen pressed a hand to her sore mouth. Blood oozed from her bottom lip. She couldn’t think straight. But she rose to approach the sphere. The One couldn’t possibly fit inside. It squeezed a portion of itself through the hatchway and bore her sister out of sight.
Carmen felt helpless as she tried to see what was happening. The monster blocked the doorway. But what could it hope to accomplish with Jenna unconscious?
Sylvia came around the sphere and extracted what looked like a bulky rifle from the Melded machinery. She raised it up and sighted down the top at the One. Carmen dove aside at the last moment. Unlike the smaller Melded sidearm that had spat projectiles, her big new weapon featured a barrel with glowing blue bands.
She cut loose with a blast of arcing energy which flashed heat and split the air with a sharp snap. The burst tore a wide burning cut in the One. It was as if a giant fiery knife had slashed at a wad of bread dough.
The One howled with a hundred voices. Limbs began flailing in every direction, reaching out and swiping at the air and smashing into the side of the sphere and the ground around it. Carmen scrambled away as a deformed hand almost flattened her. One giant mallet of a limb struck the asphalt and cracked it. Her mother backpedaled and was about to fire again when a tentacle burst from the wound and struck her in the midsection, knocking her down. A second limb followed and shattered her dropped weapon to pieces.
Carmen ran to her and got her up. They limped away together, her mother clutching her stomach and gritting her teeth. A blackish liquid dribbled from her nose.
“You…can’t reason with that thing,” Sylvia gasped.
“We can’t kill it. It’s trying to do what I couldn’t. Stop you.”
Her mother shook her head in disgust. “You think it’s going to help Earth?”
“I don’t know what it’s going to do.”
The One retracted its limbs. The wound remained a raw tear along its side. The rest of its body churned. The gibbering mouths began making a choking sound. Again, Carmen recalled the doctor in the hospital. And then the realization struck her like a hammer.
When she had seen it before, the One had always been fast and smooth in its movements. But now, during its assault on the frigate and while carrying Jenna down to the sphere, it shambled and was jerky. The shadow. It was here, with the One, somehow influencing it, controlling it as it had the doctor.
But the doctor couldn’t speak and was barely coordinated enough to operate her rifle or push a hospital bed. So what was the shadow expecting to do with the sphere?
Wary of the One, the worm crept up to the Melded machine, which had been knocked onto its side. It began furiously tapping away at the controls. But it quickly moved back and let out a blast of air from its helmet. The machine had gone dark.
“Try again!” her mother called to the former Primary Executive. “We can’t give up!”
The sphere emitted the faintest hum. Carmen felt it in her teeth. Then the hatch crashed shut, cutting the One in half and sending a torrent of fluid splashing to the ground. The sphere began to rise, slowly at first, inch by inch, but then it lifted into the air and effortlessly knocked aside the suspended cage halves the cranes held over it. It then launched soundlessly away into the sky.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Sylvia Vincent was hurrying up the parking garage steps towards the Melded frigate. Carmen kept calling as she jogged after her mother, but she wasn’t listening. Sylvia was trying to operate one of her devices as she ran, her motions frantic.
Carmen caught up with her. “Wait! Stop! Where are we going?”
“We need to intercept the sphere. It’s heading for the rest of the harvester. But I can’t…I can’t get any of the crew to respond.”
The worm had abandoned its machine at the sphere landing site. It rushed up the stairs after them and almost bowled them over as it slithered to the waiting ramp of the ship. It let out a wail as it peered inside.
Dead and broken Melded lay everywhere.
Her mom pushed past the worm without hesitation, stepping over bodies as she hurried down the main corridor. Carmen followed her to what appeared to be a control room. It had been destroyed. While the ship had always looked untidy, now large sections of wall and floor were torn up and consoles and screens had been smashed to pieces.
Sylvia fiddled with a series of buttons on one wall and opened a virtual display. “The reactor is still up and running. But the flight computer is offline.”
“How do we catch them?” Carmen asked.
“This is no good. We don’t, not with the frigate like this. They’re going too fast.”
“Does the radio work? Put me through to She Who Waits.”
“Those controls are gone too. There might be a way to patch through to her if we interface with our antennae, but it would be quicker to run to her shuttle. But even if we do, that shuttle won’t be enough. The sphere has too much of a head start. And Carmen, you can’t take any more hard g’s.”
Her mother sagged against the wall.
Carmen shook her shoulder. “You came this far. You can’t give up now.”
“I always wanted the best for you,” her mother whispered.
“I know. Look, Mom, what do we have to do to save Jenna? What does that monster want?”
Her mom looked up at her with an expression of helplessness. “We don’t know. We didn’t even believe the rumors from the other survivors who had glimpsed the shadows. Humans aren’t the only ones who have ghost stories.”
“Snap out of it. With all your gadgets you can’t get your ship going again?”
“Look around you. The ship needs repairs. The crew is dead.”
Carmen surveyed the control room. The Melded seemed to have a more hands-on approach to piloting their craft than She Who Waits. Crushed flight couches had once stood next to the smashed controls. The One had done a thorough job. Everything looked as if it would have to be replaced. And with every second that ticked by, the monster that had taken her sister was getting further away.
“What about the One’s ship?” Carmen asked. “Is it fast?”
Sylvia straightened up and ran down an auxiliary corridor. The worm met them at an open airlock that connected to the other vessel. In contrast to the looping shapes which made up the exterior of the ship, the inside was sleek and clean with smooth walls and floors. The round hallway reminded Carmen of a roller rink. There was no furniture.
Sylvia and the worm exchanged a few curt, muffled words. The worm went forward while she tried to lead Carmen back out the airlock.
“Mom, what are you doing?”
“The One’s ship’s main reactor is out. It has a secondary reactor more powerful than ours. But you’re staying here. There are no flight chairs. The One’s boat has no comforts, and it’s going to be a hard ride even for us.”
“I don’t care. I’m coming with you.”
“I’m not talking about pillows and blankets. It doesn’t even have flight couches. I will not watch you die as we try to save Jen. I can’t lose both of you.”
“That’s not your choice anymore, Mom.”
Her mother paused as if thinking. Then the bug doctor appeared, followed closely by a badly limping Four Arms, who no longer carried a weapon and had three of his limbs wrapped in a dressing. Without a word, the doctor handed Sylvia his injection device.
Her mom held the injector up. “This will keep you from getting hurt. It’s the only way I’m letting you come with us.”
Carmen felt her breath come short. The thought of accepting whatever poison was inside the Melded concoction made her queasy. Then the lights brightened inside the airlock. Something hummed behind the walls of the One’s vessel. There was no more time for arguments.
Carmen cocked her head sideways, revealing her neck. “Give it to me.”
Her mom smirked. “Always so dramatic, honey. The arm is fine.” She pressed the injector against Carmen’s forearm and it made a click. Carmen felt a tingle, but nothing
else.
Sylvia discarded the injector. The doctor and Four Arms backed up as the airlock sealed. No one waved goodbye.
Sylvia and Carmen found the former Primary in a forward compartment, a wide empty oval room with an interface along one wall. The worm had jacked itself into it.
“The worm can hack the ship?”
“For lack of a better phrase, yes,” Sylvia said. “The Melded have intelligence on all the Framework technology and spaceships. The One’s tech is particularly advanced and there are some gaps to what is known. Time to test whether it’s enough.”
The ship shook, and Carmen had to hold on to a wall as they got moving. Sylvia led her to an alcove that had a depression in the floor where they settled in. It felt like lying down inside a fiberglass bathtub, with no cushions or handholds.
Carmen wasn’t sure if it was the events of the evening or the injection, but she felt jittery, as if she’d knocked back an energy drink or three. But before she could ask any questions, they were launching upward. It wasn’t too different from her first flight on the sphere. Even as her body lay stiff and pressed against the floor, the sensation felt milder than what she’d experienced on her rides with She Who Waits. She guessed the Melded drug was doing its job.
There was little to do but wait and worry. She could only hope and pray that Jenna remained asleep. She didn’t want to imagine her being in the grip of the One and whatever the shimmering shadow monster was that appeared to be controlling it.
What would it do once it reached the rest of the harvester and brought the ship together? Would it even need Jenna? She tried not to think about it. But the dark thoughts kept coming. Her mom had her now. Had given her the shot. Was this the first step in her becoming one of them, a Melded?
I’m me and I’m not letting go.
The One had survived losing half of its body to the closing hatchway. The Melded themselves were a slapdash patchwork of remnants stapled and sewn, composed of a dozen or more original races, Frankenstein monsters who had left their original identities behind. Was that what it meant to survive what was to come? Could she pay that price? Would the same toll be extracted from every woman, man, and child on Earth who wanted to live?