by Sarah Zettel
“No!” he shouted, flinging himself forward. Pain lanced through his arm and shoulder as Lareet tightened her grip.
“She will not be killed,” Lareet told him. “Umat knows her work.”
As he watched, Lynn's struggles weakened and stopped.
“Why?” Arron choked on the word. “What are you doing?”
“Don't tell him, Sister.” Umat closed Lynn's faceplate and stood up. Lynn lay still on the floor. Arron couldn't tell if she was still breathing. His heart pounded heavily against his rib cage.
“You will have a blistered hand, Sister,” said Lareet.
“I already do.” Umat crossed to the comm station and typed on the keyboard. If Lynn was breathing too shallowly, Lareet was breathing too heavily. “It will not be so bad.” She coughed. “My exposure is not great. Humans are not so poison as we commonly believe.” She swallowed hard and leaned against the console. “But I am going to be sick. I think I breathed something in.”
Somebody knocked hard on the door. Umat slid the door open by hand. Two Getesaph Arron didn't know darted inside. “No word has gone out yet” said the taller of the two as she shut the door behind her.
“This room doesn't seem to be watched.” The shorter sister knelt by Lynn. Lynn coughed, and her whole body twitched.
She's alive.Arron almost melted with relief.
“They're only monitoring the halls,” said Lareet. “Human notions of privacy, again.”
“That does not mean we have much time, Ovrth Tair.” Umat straightened herself up.
Ovrth Tair carried a small bag. She opened it up. Lynn stirred more strongly. Her eyelids fluttered. Tair took a capsule out of the bag and undid Lynn's faceplate. Tair cracked the capsule between her fingers and tossed it into Lynn's helmet and clamped the faceplate back down. Lynn lay still again.
“Promise me you have the proper dosage for Humans,” said Lareet quietly.
Tair glanced at her reproachfully. “Of course, Dayisen Lareet. I know my job, as do you.” Tair held out a second capsule.
“We must have you unconscious, Scholar Arron,” said Lareet. “Will you trust us and take it willingly?”
Arron's mouth had gone completely dry. “You will have to do this to me, Sister,” he croaked. “My will does not move in this direction.”
Tair shrugged and came closer until her smooth, tight face was all Arron could see. Her thick fingers undid his faceplate. She closed her nostrils and cracked the capsule. Arron smelted something bitter. His head swam.
“Please believe that I am sorry,” said Lareet from a long way away. “If you had not come in here, we would not be doing this.”
Darkness slipped over him, and Arron didn't hear anything else.
Resaime's heart fluttered between excitement and fear. One hand held Aunt Senejess's arm. The other carried a satchel stuffed with nothing more than blankets from the closet in their dorm room. Aunt Senejess carried most of their clothes in an awkward packet in her arms. It almost entirely obscured her vision, which, as she had said in the room, was the whole idea.
The bright sun made Res's skin itch under the shadowy pink makeup Aunt Senejess had smeared across her. The bracelets on her wrists and rings clipped to her ears jingled with every step.
They had left the dormitories by the south side, and made a wide circle around to the north side, where new arrivals trudged patiently to the perpetually open doors.
Aunt Senejess had one ear turned toward a pair of soldiers strolling toward the doors at an off-duty pace and at an angle that would cross the path Res and her aunt were taking. Aunt Senejess carefully matched their pace. The soldiers were deep in conversation with each other and paid no attention until Aunt Senejess collided straight into them. The loose knot holding the packet shut came undone, the blanket fell open, and clothes and sundries scattered around the sidewalk.
“Mother Night!” exclaimed one of the soldiers, while Resaime scrambled to gather their things together. “Can't you hear?”
“I'm sorry, Dayisen. I'm very sorry.” Senejess grabbed at a scarf that threatened to blow away in the breeze. “We hurried so to pack, I'm afraid I was not careful. I'm sorry.”
Resaime risked a glance up from her job of rummaging through the clothes to make sure everything was there. The soldier's expression softened.
“When's your time, Mother?”
“Not for two weeks yet, so they ted us.” Aunt Senejess jerked a thumb toward the main budding. “But we thought…”
“You and the rest of the city.” The soldier shook her head. “Hear me, Citizen Sister, everyone will leave in time. The Humans will not start their work until we're all gone. You can go back home and wait your turn.”
“Isn't there room for us here?” Resaime was amazed at how small her aunt's voice sounded.
The soldier pressed her lips together and blew out an exasperated bb-rrrrr-ttt noise. Her duty-sister bared her teeth at her.
“Of course there's room,” said the sister. “There just isn't any need.”
“They're saying they'll fill the two ships they have and let the plague take the rest.” The quaver in Aunt Senejess's voice was so alarming, Resaime reached out instinctively. “I have only my youngest daughter left, Dayisen.” Her aunt clutched Resaime's hand.
The second soldier dipped her ears sympathetically and touched Senejess's shoulder. “Rumors wander the streets with the fathers. Mother, no one is going to be left behind to this plague or any other.”
“I'm sure you know the truth, Dayisen.” Senejess bent to tie her bundle back up. Resaime put her finger on the string to hold it down while her aunt tightened the knots. “I don't understand very much of this. Can the Humans really remove all this evil from us?”
The first soldier bared her teeth. “What the Humans will not take care of, we will.”
Her sister-in-arms shook her lightly by the shoulder. “We will be late for our shift, Dayisen Oraen.”
Oraen touched her hand in acknowledgment “Good luck to you, Mother. Go home and wait in patience. You will soon see there is no reason to fear or hurry.”
The arms-sisters, the dayisen, Resaime corrected herself, marched away.
“Well, my Daughter”—Aunt Senejess hoisted the bundle onto her shoulder—“what do you think of that?”
“I'm not sure,” Resaime answered in careful Getesaph. Aunt Senejess had warned her that a snatch of conversation was more likely to be paid attention to if it was in a foreign language, particularly t'Therian. “You knew they were planning something.”
“We strongly suspected, but that was all.” Aunt Senejess squinted after the dayisen. “Now we know. What the Humans will not take care of, we will, she said. What can that mean but an attack on our Great Family?”
The skin on Resaime's arms bunched and knotted. “What do we do now?”
“We go into the port.” Aunt Senejess started walking again. “We stow these bundles and try to find out what rumors they are allowing to wander about with their fathers.” She glanced down at Resaime, and her eyes sparkled. “Then we will see what the Humans’ network can tell us, and we take all this news back home.”
She's going to hear how loud my heart is beating. I know it. “What will we do with it then?”
“What we must.” Aunt Senejess now had her eyes straight ahead.
Resaime bit her lip and struggled to keep up with her aunt's long, swinging stride. They were almost to the doors, nearly to the port and its crowd. She had to do something, and do it now.
I have to do this. I have to.Her blood was roaring in her ears. “But…” She put a quaver of her own into the word. It was easier than she thought. Her stomach clenched. “Aunt Senejess, at least promise me you'll do something with it to convince the Queens that the Getesaph are dangerous.” Her aunt stopped and looked her full in the face.
Theia was right. This was completely, totally, and utterly wrong. She was doing it anyway. “Mother wanted to bring us here to live and grow, but she didn't tell u
s… She doesn't see how the Getesaph will try to hurt them, hurt us. The Humans are all blind. They always have been. I'm worried about Theia, Aunt Senejess. She doesn't know enough. I'm afraid.” Tears prickled her eyes. Not from fear, but from strain. She felt more naked than she would standing here in her belly guard. All the Ancestors were staring up from the ground at her. They saw a disloyal liar. They saw wickedness and disobedience.
Aunt Senejess set the bundle down and took hold of both of Resaime's shoulders. “Hear me, my own,” she said softly. “Your words are strong and sensible. I knew you would not stand apart from your family. The news we bring back will not go to the Queens, it will go to the Great Family. Our friends stand ready to broadcast it and post it on the debate walls and call for a break from the Confederation. Despite the events of the past week, the Queens are still isolated in the city with their sycophants. The army will not stay with them long, once we bring them reason to attack. We already have assurances. If the Getesaph are about to do what I suspect, so much the better. We can land our soldiers on their islands and hold their children against their good behavior. If they are capable of feeling, they will make no trouble. If not …” She bared her teeth, panting in anger. “Then they will have nothing left to care about.”
Resaime looked at her mutely. All the words she did not want to say clogged her throat.
Her aunt shifted her grip and pulled Resaime into a real embrace. “It will be well, my own,” Aunt Senejess whispered in her ear. “You and your sister will be safe. I swear it by our Ancestors.”
Resaime closed her eyes and hugged her back with all her strength.
I am doing this for Mother. I am doing this for Theia. I am doing this for our sisters and for the Great Family. She'll see that the Confederation is the right thing to do, if we can just keep it from falling apart too fast. That's what's important. That's what I have to do.
She pulled back a little. “Thank you, Aunt Senejess. I'm ready to go ahead now.”
Her aunt nodded with approval, stood up, shouldered her bundle, and took Resaime's hand. Together, they walked into the port.
Trace glanced at the infoview on the back of her right hand. Nothing. No calls, no mail. Nothing. She drummed the windowsill and stared out over the bustling spaceport outside their borrowed offices.
She should have been busy. A thousand details were passing through her station this second. They all needed approval, review, or forwarding. She had teams to coordinate, information to spread, progress reports to write. But all she could do was stand there and think about how Lynn wasn't sitting in the next room.
The office door opened with its weird swinging motion and R.J. stepped inside. He looked at her for a long moment and shrugged.
“I haven't heard anything either.”
She glanced at her infoview again. Still nothing. “We have got to call Keale and the Marines, R.J. This is worse than a snapped thread somewhere.”
He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I hate to admit it, but you're right. I just wanted to hold off because, well I don't think we should… encourage them, you know?”
She nodded. “I know. And happens, I agree, but she's missing, R.J.”
“I noticed.” He dropped into one of the chairs surrounding the table that had been covered with a patchwork of screen tiles. “Tell you what, I'll get Keale, if you'd get Brador.”
“Deal.” She dragged out one of the chairs and sat. She pressed the activation studs on two of the tiles in front of her. A directory lit up and she selected the comm display. As soon as the monitor and icon spread appeared she picked Veep Brador's emergency shortcut.
Across the table, R.J. argued softly with somebody. “Yes, this really is an emergency.” Pause. “Lynn Nussbaumer is missing in Getesaph territory.” Pause. “You want me to tell Vice President Brador the entire relocation is going to fall apart because you don't consider one person an emergency? Check your personnel roster and you'll see who she is.”
Trace sighed and concentrated on slaving her monitor display to his. Even in Bioverse, a corp legendary for its efficiency, there was always somebody.
BRADOR LOCATED flashed the monitor. In the next breath, a full-face image of the veep appeared and jerked into life.
“What's happened, Trace?”
“We've lost Lynn Nussbaumer.” Bad choice of words, Trace. “She's been out of contact for the whole day. We haven't been able to trace her, or a comm fault.”
Brador's fleshy cheeks sagged. “Have you gotten through to Keale yet?”
Trace glanced at R.J. who gave her the thumbs-up. “Just now.” She touched the Split icon to divide the screen between the display of the veep and the commander of Corporate Security.
Keale did not look happy. “Why'd you wait so long?”
“We thought we'd find a comm fault,” said R.J. defensively. “We didn't want to start a search unnecessarily.”
Keale ground his teeth. “We are here to help, not start a police action. Why won't any of you understand that?”
“It's a problem, I agree, Commander,” cut in Brador. “But now that the call is in, what can we do?”
Keale took a deep breath. “I'll spread the word down to our people at the port. Dr. Nussbaumer's been good about recording her contacts and appointments. We'll start a quiet search with those. Nobody just vanishes. Not even here.”
Brador nodded. “Very good, Commander. Thank you. In the meantime, Trace, R.J., you get your team leaders tied in, and I'll alert the other veeps. We'll have to coordinate this closely, but we don't interrupt the schedule, understood?”
“Yes,” said Trace softly.
“Yes,” said R.J. without any feeling at all.
“Good.” Brador paused. “Find her, Keale, I don't want any of my people lost to local politics.”
“Neither do I, sir.” Keale touched the screen and blanked himself out.
“Okay, get hooked up, you two,” said Brador briskly. “This is one of those emergencies we've been trying to get ready for.”
Brador blanked out his own screen. Trace looked up at R.J. and saw acceptance and worry in his expression. “I know,” she said. “Right now, I'm not sure about what we think we're doing either.”
The comm station's chime echoed off the dormitory's bare walls. Resaime picked herself up off the sleeping mat.
“Aunt Senejess, there's a caller on the line,” she called to her aunt, who was rummaging in the foodstore.
“Thank you, Niece.” Aunt Senejess crossed the room and settled herself into the comm-station chair. “If you could just tell this machine someone authorized is here.”
Res laid her hand on the keyboard to tell the station to deliver the message. The grey screen turned into a blur of colors that resolved swiftly into a woman's head and shoulders.
“Praeis Shin?” said the Human, a little uncertainly.
“Yes?” replied Aunt Senejess.
Resaime stepped back out of the line of vision for both the comm station and her aunt.
“I'm Iola Trace. I'm assisting Lynn Nussbaumer with relocation management.” Her t'Therian was thickly accented and her words uncertain. She's probably getting help from an implant, Res thought, lowering herself back onto the sleeping mat. “Dr. Nussbaumer's been out of touch with the team all day, and I was wondering if you'd spoken with her?”
Aunt Senejess shook her head. “I have heard nothing from her. Is she at me port? Would you like us to see if we can locate her?”
Iola Trace hesitated. “Thank you. There are some matters back here that require her attention.”
Senejess laughed. It was a strange, hollow sound. “I am sure there are. My daughter and I will try to find her.”
“Thank you,” said Iola Trace, still hesitantly. Her eyes shifted back and form restlessly, and Resaime felt her skin twitch. Did Aunt Senejess realize the woman was uneasy? Her speech's hesitancy might not be ignorance after all. It might be worry. Where was Lynn? Had the Getesaph done something to her?
“I will call you later if we learn anything,” Aunt Senejess was saying. The woman thanked her and cut the connection. Iola Trace's image faded away.
Aunt Senejess swiveled the chair around. “Well, Niece, what do you dunk of that?”
“I think it's really strange,” Resaime answered honestly. “Lynn doesn't leave things undone.” What if the Getesaph did do something to her? They do things like that, don't they? They kidnap people, things like that.
“No, she does not.” Aunt Senejess stood up and tugged at Res's ear thoughtfully. “I think perhaps we really should go out and have a look for her.”
And what if the Getesaph kidnap us? Who'll come look for us? If anything happened to her, Aunt Senejess was supposed to do something about it. But Aunt Senejess was not Theia, or Mother.
“Well, Niece?”
Resaime started. Aunt Senejess cocked her ears forward. “I, uh, I'd rather wait here, Aunt.”
Her aunt crossed the room and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Why, Resaime?”
Resaime searched frantically for a reason Aunt Senejess would believe. “The Getesaph make me nervous,” she said. “I'm tired of it right now. I keep being afraid I'd make a mistake.”
Aunt Senejess stroked Resaime's upper arm silently for a moment. Resaime couldn't read her face, but her ears waved restlessly.
“What we are doing is a hard thing,” Aunt Senejess said quietly. “But it is necessary. The Getesaph do much more than make me nervous. They frighten me to death. But we cannot let our feelings come in the way of the safety of the Great Family, can we?”
Resaime swallowed. “No, we can't, Aunt Senejess.” Please don't make me go. Please don't.
“No.” Aunt Senejess patted her shoulder. “I will let you rest while I go find our contacts and tell them what has happened. We will need help to find out what is going on. When I come back, you will be ready to go out?”
“Yes, Aunt Senejess.” Resaime squeezed her hand and worked to keep her ears and skin still.