Weight of Ashes

by Rook Winters

  Wilm raised his hand. “You can count me in. I want those bastards to go home.”

  Elle gripped Court’s hand. “It might make sense for you to go back home. If it all works the way Dr. Donovan says, if everyone comes back to Earth, they will need people to teach them how to survive, to hunt for meat and grow vegetables. They’ll need people like you to be ready for them.”

  Britt thought that Court looked hurt, maybe even insulted.

  “No,” he said. “The nacking Qyntarak killed my family, twice. I only understood half of what he said, but I want to help if I can.”

  “What about Ainsley?” Wilm asked.

  Britt furrowed her brow. “I guess that’ll depend on how the surgery goes.”

  “So what’s next?” Bear asked.

  “Reclamation leadership is on the Willow Wisp,” Britt said. “And they’re already expecting a delivery from us on the next supply launch.”

  “But our containers are gone. We’ve missed that boat.”

  “We’ve missed the chance to get full-size crates on the cargo shuttle but something small enough to be carried aboard might still be possible. A radiation-shielded box with a ping locator wouldn’t have to be big to hold the data vault. Our person on the shuttle could smuggle it on with her personal items.”

  “And what? She’ll just toss it out the airlock manually?”

  “Yes, that’s perfect, actually.”

  “I was being sarcastic.”

  “I know, but that doesn’t mean it won’t work.”

  “The launch is in four days. The crew will go into quarantine by 8pm tomorrow,” Ursula said. “That’s not much time.”

  “How do you know that?” Bear asked.

  Britt patted his arm. “Ursula is the one who’s been providing us with our intel on shipment schedules and crew rosters the last few years.”

  “I can program a ping locator with the Willow Wisp codes,” Ursula said.

  “We’ll need to acquire a transponder,” Britt said. “Also, can you make a copy of the data vault? If something goes wrong, we don’t want to lose our only copy.”

  Ursula nodded affirmatively. “I’ll put it on an open source device with stronger encryption. I’ll use a Reclamation public key and my personal private key so leadership will know it’s legit. We can send the copy to the Wisp and secure the original here.”

  “Perfect. You better start that now. As soon as it’s ready, we need to move.”

  CHAPTER 42: KANE

  Governor Torkanuux vibrated with rage, its upper body moving side to side. Kane knew he had to be careful. His suit was set to translate his physiological reactions into Qyntarak-style temperature changes. He needed to demonstrate an appropriate level of remorse and shame so that the five Qyntarak gathered in the governor’s private council pit would see that he understood the severity of his failures. At the same time, he had to project a minimal amount of confidence so they would not judge him to be incompetent. It was a lot of nuance for the suit to get right and Kane worried that he wouldn’t have sufficient control of his physical reactions from which the suit took its cues.

  Kantarka-Ta was letting its frond antennae waggle, not making any secret of its delight in seeing Kane knocked down a few pegs.

  Bastard, Kane thought and then regretted it in case his irritation showed up on the suit.

  “Honorable Torkanuux,” Kantarka-Ta’s translated voice said in Kane’s helmet, “if it aligns with your preference, the staff of my office would be able to complete the mission after the failure of your human staff.”

  Kantarka-Ta didn’t say his name. Kane understood the implied slight—Kantarka-Ta was dishonoring him by not referring to him by name. He didn’t have an emotional reaction to it the way a Qyntarak would, but intellectually he recognized the insult and knew it would not go unnoticed by the other Qyntarak, including the governor.

  Governor Torkanuux clacked its mandibles, a Qyntarak reaction that would best be translated as an irritated sigh from a human but his helmet didn’t attempt to translate it.

  “For the staff of your office to complete the mission aligns with my preference. My preference is also for the staff of your office to bring the human Kane and instruct it in the methods of completing the mission with full success.”

  Kane focused on his breathing. Kantarka-Ta’s team taking over the retrieval of L37 was humiliating enough. But accompanying the smug Qyntarak while they did it? That would be torturous.

  The governor’s upper body moved back and its antennae folded down. Irritation.

  “Human Kane, your suit proclaims your inner feelings. You are angry and humiliated by my preference. That is the desired response. Your failure is without justification. Your failure brings shame to me.”

  “Honorable one of many,” Kane said, “I am full of shame and my failure is without excuse. I beg your pardon for how this suit conveys my physical reactions. I am not angry and I mean no disrespect.”

  Taxranar, the governor’s chief advisor on legal concerns, made a snapping noise while its frond antennae swayed side to side, the Qyntarak version of a hearty laugh. “The human Kane is dishonored by having to accompany Kantarka-Ta when it does its work.”

  All the Qyntarak, except the governor and Kantarka-Ta, joined Taxranar in its “laughter.”

  Kantarka-Ta swatted Taxranar with the side of one of its long stabbing appendages.

  Taxranar continued to laugh and said, “Even the human thinks you smell too much like human to be in proximity to you.”

  Kantarka-Ta hit Taxranar much harder and made a sound similar to a hand slapping water. Taxranar slid from its resting position into an aggressive standing posture and clapped its grasping pincers together. Kane had never seen this behavior in person but he knew it was an assertion of dominance. Taxranar was reminding Kantarka-Ta of their relative positions in the social and political hierarchies. As a Qyntarak with close affiliation with humans, Kantarka-Ta was looked down upon by most Qyntarak in the leadership circles despite its close relationship with the governor and the governor’s fondness for humans.

  Kane wasn’t an expert on primitive Qyntarak behaviors. He knew them in a work environment where they held their baser instincts at bay. From his rudimentary understanding, the next move would be for Kantarka-Ta to lower its equivalent to a head, the area where its antennae and thermal-optical organs were located, and to recline further in its seat.

  Instead, Kantarka-Ta stood and returned Kartar-Kar’s hand-slapping-water sound and clapped its own pincers.

  A standoff.

  Kane held his breath, part of him hoping that Taxranar would strike Kantarka-Ta down. But anything short of a mortally wounded Kantarka-Ta would be bad for Kane. An embarrassed and humiliated Kantarka-Ta would be merciless in its dealings with Kane and his team while it sought to redeem itself.

  “Enough,” Torkanuux said. The meek translation in Kane’s helmet did not do justice to its menacing body language and the volume of the governor’s command. “We are not unkanturanka that have crawled out from the underside of a boulder. The preference of our kind is to conduct our business with the decorum of great beings. Your clanging of fists brings shame to all of the group gathered in this pit. Recoil and recline unless you wish to lose your fists forever.”

  The translation surprised Kane. “Fist” was not a very accurate way to describe their blunt grasping pincers, but in the context of an altercation, it made sense.

  Kantarka-Ta and Taxranar held their positions long enough that it would have been disrespectful to a human leader but they did eventually slink back to their places. Kane’s helmet seemed to have trouble keeping up with the flurry of temperature changes surging through the upper bodies of the five Qyntarak around him and he had to dismiss the overlay on his heads up display.

  “Kantarka-Ta,” the governor said, “you will complete the reacquisition of the human L37 with Kane in attendance for observing. You may delegate tasks to him at your discretion. The success of the mission is n
ow your responsibility. Let us now consider the business of the next topic.”

  Kane sat silently through the rest of the governor’s council meeting and attempted not to brood. He wasn’t involved in any of the other matters and the Qyntarak had no desire for his input on their other affairs.

  The meeting was over and he was removing his suit when his wrist computer buzzed. The message was from Kantarka-Ta.

  We have a solid lead on human L37. We leave in 7 minutes.

  CHAPTER 43: COURT

  Court tried to follow two conversations while they waited for the data vault to finish copying. Ursula was telling Bear about the Reclamation movement, and Britt was asking Elle about growing up with Clint Donovan and the research experiments she had been part of.

  “The takeover of the Willow Wisp was a carefully orchestrated campaign,” Ursula said. “The senior leadership of the Reclamation believed they needed an off-world headquarters that the Others couldn’t raid or eavesdrop on. It took two years of planning to get a critical mass of Claimers and sympathizers on the roster for that ship. Even the two Qyntarak custodians were sympathizers. Or are sympathizers, I suppose. As far as I know, they’re still up there.”

  “And you didn’t know anything about Clint’s own research?” Britt asked.

  Bear asked, “How come the Others can’t just knock them out with one of their black hole weapons?”

  “No,” Elle said, “he wasn’t allowed to talk about it and he wasn’t supposed to know about what I was doing.”

  “The Wisp has the same technology as the other Qyntarak ships. And it’s a small ship, so it’s hard to detect. Space is a big place, even in our little corner of the solar system.”

  “Before the Others came,” Britt said, “Clint was heavy into genetic engineering with a particular interest in increasing human resiliency—tolerance for broader temperature ranges, accelerated healing, and even limb regeneration. Do you know if he continued with that work at least?”

  “Do you have access to rosters for other ships?” Bear asked. “Or information on the passengers?”

  “I don’t know,” Elle said. “We didn’t talk about it. I wasn’t allowed to talk to the other kids about their experiments either. All I know is what involved me, which was trying to talk with the Others. I wasn’t very good at it.”

  “The Wisp knows about the status of at least some people on most ships. There’s a network of Claimers but communication is sketchy so the data is sparse and infrequent. And only essential information is broadcast to Earth since every transmission risks compromising the Wisp’s current position.”

  “A child talking directly with Qyntarak? That must have been terrifying for you,” Britt said.

  Bear pointed toward the ceiling with his finger. “My wife is up there. She’s been gone ten years and I have no idea if she’s even alive still. It’s why I help Britt smuggle antiviral medications. Just in case.”

  “I grew up seeing them every week, so it was normal for me. But I couldn’t really talk with them. The doctor said my vocal chords, in theory, should be able to reproduce Qyntarak sounds better than most humans but, like I said, I wasn’t good at it. I was better at understanding them.”

  “They separated you?” Ursula said. “That’s unusual, to separate a married couple.”

  “I was working off planet at the time and they took the whole town at once. No one even told me. I came home to an empty house. Thieves had ransacked it. It took three weeks of yelling at paper pushers just to find out what happened.”

  Court found it exhausting to follow both conversations and as much as he wanted to hear everything being said, he was relieved when Ursula announced that the copy of the data vault was complete.

  “Time to go,” Britt said.

  Ursula held up a hand. “Wait, a proximity alarm just tripped. Let me check what’s going on first… Oh shit. Two Qyntarak in full armor and a grav flyer parked on the lawn.”

  “Qyntarak?” Court said. “You’re sure?”

  Ursula gave him an irritated glare. “Yes, I’m sure.”

  “They’re here for me,” Elle said. “I’ll give myself up. It doesn’t matter if they take me now. You have the data vault and a plan to get it where it needs to go.”

  “No,” Court said, “there has to be another way.”

  “The rest of you can stay hidden here. We can’t outrun them. We can’t fight them.”

  “She’s right about that,” Ursula said.

  “It won’t work,” Britt said. “If they only get Elle, they’ll come looking for Court, and probably the rest of us. I will not cower down here waiting for them to come knocking.”

  “Do you have any other ideas?” Ursula said.

  “I do,” Britt said. “First, we need to hide the original data vault and go check on Ainsley.”

  CHAPTER 44: COURT

  Court was not enthusiastic about their plan but his opinion didn’t matter much at the moment. Britt hobbled up the stairs beside him and Elle followed behind them. His hands were cold and shaking.

  According to Ursula’s surveillance system, there were at least six Qyntarak and one human. They were walking into their hands, or pincers, or whatever they were called, in order to buy time for Bear and the others hiding in the basement.

  “Stop there,” a synthesized voice said as they crested the stairs. It sounded similar to the voice of the alien that had killed Dr. Donovan but not identical.

  They raised their hands and stopped at the top of the stairs, Elle still partially obstructed behind Britt and Court.

  All the Qyntarak wore armor with some parts of their bodies covered in a flexible material and the rest covered in layers of a dull black plating. The one who’d spoken had a gun-like weapon pointed at them. Further back, another held Maud, the university superintendent, with a stabbing tentacle pressed against her ribs. Two more Qyntarak moved toward Court, Elle, and Britt. Their heavy boots, four per alien, clanged on the old stone floor as they advanced with surprising speed for their size.

  One of them jabbed Elle with its blunt pincer-like arm. Was arm the right word? Court wasn’t sure.

  “You are human L37. This is the accurate reading of your appearance. Do you acknowledge?”

  Its voice was high-pitched with a hint of a buzz, like a human trying to talk like a bee. Elle didn’t answer. The plan was for Britt to act as their negotiator. Court hoped that was a smart move.

  “Who is in charge here?” Britt asked.

  The Qyntarak roared, the sound muffled but audible through its body armor. The suit didn’t provide a translation of the noise.

  “Insolent human, your speech was not requested. Recline in silence,” the bee said. It poked at Elle again. “You are human L37. Confirm the truth of this assertion.”

  “I speak for her. And I demand to talk with your superior.”

  Court was impressed by the steadiness of Britt’s voice. The Qyntarak struck her with the side of its long stabbing arm-tentacle thing. The slap wasn’t overly violent but harder than necessary for someone her age. Court’s body tensed.

  From a distance, another Qyntarak made a snapping noise and its suit’s speaker said, “Laughing. Laughing.”

  The laughing Qyntarak came closer and Court saw it was smaller than the others. It poked Court with its own tentacle-like appendage. Court felt like he was being prodded with a sharpened stick.

  “You are upsetting the other human here,” the smaller alien said. Its synthesized voice was deeper with a trace of a whistle. “Look at how hot its face has become. Human Nora Barrett with the false name Britt, I am full of curiosity about why you are in the companionship of these two fugitives.”

  How in the nacking hell do they know who Britt is?

  “Are you in charge?” Britt asked.

  It leaned in close to Britt. “Yes. And much wisdom it will be for you to answer my questions. We are not here to answer yours.”

  “They came seeking sanctuary and wish only to be productive member
s of the economy. We have no quarrel with any being.”

  “Human fool, this one is the property of Aldebaran. You are all three in possession of stolen property.”

  “She is a human being and no one’s property.”

  “A matter of semantics. She contains their property. We must return her to her caretakers.”

  The smallest Qyntarak grabbed Elle’s arm with its pincer and pulled her toward itself. She gave a startled yelp, and without thinking, Court grabbed it.

  “Let her go.”

  “Court, no,” Britt shouted.

  He wasn’t sticking to the plan but he couldn’t bear to have them drag her off like this. He wrenched on the Qyntarak’s tentacle with both hands. It was incredibly strong, like pulling on a tree. Something smashed into Court’s side and sent him staggering back. He lost his grip and then his footing when his heel slipped over the edge of the stairs. He fell back and tumbled down them, banging and bouncing too many times to count until he reached the landing where his head smashed against the floor or wall or maybe the railing, he wasn’t sure. The room went blurry.

  Through a fog, he saw movement but couldn’t make any sense of it. At one point, he felt sharp pains in his knees and pressure in his armpits. He might have vomited, but he wasn’t certain.

  As the fog started to lift, he squinted against light shining into his left eye, then his right eye. He was looking up at someone.

  A female voice said, “He’ll be fine, I’m certain.” He recognized the voice.

  Who is that?

  He couldn’t quite place it. His head was still swimming. He tried to focus his eyes.

  The deep Qyntarak voice with the whistle replied. “Maw-ooed, your assessment is noted. It is shameful that your previous service was not as adequately performed.”

  Maud the superintendent. The alien pronounced her name incorrectly but Court could make out the blurry outline of her face. He started to say something to her, to beg her for help, but felt a sharp poke in his neck. He tried to make sense of what was happening, but everything went blurry again and he felt too sleepy to keep his eyes open.