His robot tormentors stirred in confusion. Their crimson optical sensors flared, their electronic voices buzzed. “What is this?”
The question repeated among the other robots that had come to torture him.
“What is this?”
“What is the sound?”
“What is happening?”
Though Rod’h didn’t understand it either, he said in a rough, raspy voice, “It is something terrible—and it is coming for you!”
Around him, the gigantic pulsing force grew brighter, all-consuming, swelling until the music became deafening. It tore at the Shana Rei defenses, the black cocoon in which they protected themselves.
The presence continued to awaken.
CHAPTER
74
ZHETT KELLUM
In their busy extraction field outside of Ikbir, the bloaters seemed strangely restless. Every Roamer worker in the Kellum operations could sense it.
From one of the inspection pods that flew among the swollen nodules, Marius Denva transmitted, “We’re new to this, but something doesn’t feel right to me, Zhett … Not at all. The bloaters are agitated.” His voice had a faint undertone of uncertainty. Denva had gone back to work full-time, but sometimes he was still jumpy after his ordeal on Kuivahr.
Zhett and Patrick stared through the bridge windowport of their HQ ship. “How can giant plankton be agitated?” Patrick asked. “Are you saying a bag of protoplasm is nervous?”
Similar uneasy transmissions came from other workers. “Just keep your eyes open,” Zhett transmitted.
The mothballed industrial equipment they had retrieved from Osquivel was now functioning at full capacity. Clan engineers had easily modified the old ekti-processing ships for the new work. The bloater sacks were drained, and the protoplasm processed into ekti-X, which was then stored in tank arrays. Previously, Roamer skymines had cruised above the clouds of gas giants. They had needed factories, pumping stations, centrifuges, and reactors, all of which were inefficient and expensive. In contrast, extracting stardrive fuel from these bloaters was as simple as poking in a straw and draining the nodules dry.
Unaware of the tension among the workers, Del Kellum strolled onto the bridge of the HQ ship, potbelly thrust forward. “This is going to be profitable, by damn! Very profitable indeed.”
“So long as there isn’t a glut in the market,” Patrick said. “With so much extra production, stardrive fuel could become as cheap as water.”
Kellum sniffed at his son-in-law. “People still make a fortune selling water.”
One of the outlying bloaters suddenly sparkled with a flare of intense white light that faded quickly. Zhett just caught it out of the corner of her eye. She knew the nodules occasionally did that, much to the consternation of the extraction crews. Vessels that were too close to one of the flare-ups could suffer severe system damage and circuitry overloads.
A second nodule flared up … then three more sparkles. It was like slow-motion fireworks throughout the cluster. “Something’s definitely happening out there,” Zhett said.
Over the comm, Kristof yelped. “That one was close, Mom! I got great images of it, though.”
Their son insisted on working out in space among the bloaters. Normally, Zhett would have been glad to let him gain hands-on experience—but not right now. “Toff, get out of there!”
A sixth bloater flashed, brighter than the others, as if a nova had gone off in its nucleus.
Patrick took the comm. “Everyone, pull away from the bloaters. Evacuate until this calms down.”
Three more dazzling flare-ups. The flashes were increasing in frequency, though randomly distributed. Out in the open, Denva’s supervisory pod pulled back, but as he skimmed close to another bloater, a flare-up damaged his engines, leaving him drifting and helpless in space. Static burst across the comm system. “My pod’s systems are down—I’m using batteries for life support. By the Guiding Star, not again! Someone come fetch me.”
“All personnel, get out of there!” Zhett yelled.
The extraction workers scrambled to retreat from the pumping operations, abandoning the machinery attached to the bloaters. One half-drained nodule also flickered like a feeble death gasp, but its light had a reddish tinge; then the swollen sack collapsed, crushing the pumping machinery attached to it.
Toff volunteered to streak in and rescue Denva. From his weak comm, Denva said, “I’m suiting up. I do not intend to let myself get stranded again. I still have nightmares about Kuivahr. I’ll jump out the airlock so you can intercept me, kid.”
“Call me a kid again, and I might just let you drift out there for an hour.”
“I’ve been through worse. I can last for as long as necessary.” He let out an angry snort. “But I prefer not to.”
A bloater flared very close to Kristof’s ship, and he went into a spin as he struggled to regain control.
“Toff, are you all right?” Zhett cried.
The bloater flares continued, sparkle after sparkle, like a storm of bright signals. Del Kellum paced the deck, his expression stormy. “By the Guiding Star, what triggered all that? What is waking them up?”
“I knew these operations seemed too easy,” Patrick said.
Most of their ships and workers had retreated to a safe distance while the bloaters continued to flare up like a meteor shower. Zhett called for a full check-in, found out who needed to be rescued and how many ships were damaged. This was going to be a setback, for sure.
Toff picked up Denva and took him back to HQ.
Finally, the glittering lights faded inside the formerly innocuous nodules, and everything went quiet again. Zhett shook her head as she looked out at the suddenly dangerous operations. The Roamers had already drained dozens of the nodules, but more than half of the cluster remained. “What the hell was that all about?” she muttered. “And what set them off?”
CHAPTER
75
ARITA
As the Theron defenders marched toward the impenetrable fortress in the dead worldtrees, King Peter and Queen Estarra were ashen.
“Clear it away,” Peter shouted. “Remove the blighted trees.”
The Onthos retreated deeper into the thicket as the first wave of Theron soldiers used explosives to splinter the barricade. From above, survey flights showed thousands of Onthos running through the dead zone.
When the explosions shattered the fallen wood, Collin, Zaquel, and the other green priests moaned in dismay, holding the treelings they had brought from the other continent. Reynald swayed unsteadily, while Osira’h and Arita held on to him, giving him support.
“You tried to reason with the Onthos,” Osira’h assured him in a hard voice. “They refused.”
“Even so,” Reyn said, “I was hoping to cure the trees, not eradicate them.”
Theron fire-suppression ships swooped in, loaded with fire retardant to keep the blaze under control. “We won’t let it turn into a wildfire.” Arita grasped Collin’s hand, but he was trembling. She said, “We’re only taking out the dead parts before the Gardeners can cause any more damage.”
“But the forest doesn’t want this!” Collin caught his breath as another section of the barricade of fallen trees was blasted away. “The verdani ask that we not cause further harm.”
King Peter gestured vehemently, directing another wave of troops forward and scattering more Onthos. “Drive them out!”
“But they are the Gardeners,” Zaquel said. “They have served the trees.”
Estarra stood at Peter’s side. “They’re killing the trees. Why would you want us to hesitate?”
The green priests hung their heads. “Because the verdani are begging us not to let this happen.…” Sickened by the damage being inflicted on the worldforest, they gathered together. “Wait for us,” Zaquel said. “Please stop the attack!”
Frowning, Peter halted further explosions, waiting to see what the green priests would do.
In a large group, the priests darted into
the thorny deadwood, and Arita rushed after Collin and his companions, fearing it might be a trap. The forest was like a lost graveyard with the bones of the verdani all around them.
Urged onward by Collin, the green priests pushed their way deeper into the dark and sinister forest, calling out. Coming to a halt in a dead clearing, Collin seemed at a loss, disconnected even though he held his potted treeling. “We cannot hear the verdani mind even with our trees,” he said. “It’s gone silent in here.”
Arita heard the ominous crackle of shattering wood and collapsing trees all around. Behind them, the King and Queen and an armed contingent of the Theron home guard marched into the clearing.
In the twisted dead branches high above and in the dry underbrush all around them, there came a loud stirring. Ohro appeared, then ten other pale Gardeners, and then a hundred more. The sheer numbers were breathtaking.
“We will fight to survive,” Ohro said, but his voice was pleading rather than belligerent. “We created a shelter for ourselves, and we will destroy you all, if you try to take us from it.”
More Gardeners came forth, an army to stand against the Theron defenders and green priests. Dead, massive trees crashed around them.
“This battle will be bloody,” Osira’h said.
Arita felt a sharp twist in her stomach as she watched the Onthos gathering, the Theron defenders readying their weapons. Then, deep inside her mind she felt a call, a shout from the distant, enormous presence that had brushed against her mind for so long.
Arita reached out with her thoughts and tried to touch that looming sentience that seemed even greater than the verdani mind. She knew it was out there—stirring, restless. She gasped as it suddenly awakened, all across the Spiral Arm. She reeled, grabbing a tree for balance, and sent out her thoughts, but the burgeoning presence was not focused on her.
Arita fought to concentrate, to pull her awareness back to Theroc and the battle here. The green priests seemed disoriented, as if they could feel it too.
That once-slumbering entity now returned with astonishing clarity, an omniscient awareness that spread out through the fabric of the universe. Bright and powerful thoughts flooded Arita’s mind, so that she felt transported from the dead forest zone.
One small battle was being fought here, but a greater war spread across the cosmos. The new awakening flared in her mind, and the Onthos reacted as if they had been sprayed with acid. The aliens scrambled away, flailing their hands. Their black impenetrable eyes were wide and fathomless. With shrieking, panicked noises, they fled through the splintered debris of their dead fortress.
The green priests also looked stunned and confused. “What is that?” Collin asked. “It’s not the verdani mind.”
“Something wonderful and terrifying just happened,” Arita said.
Peter, Estarra, and the Theron defenders stood at a loss. Their military advance had stopped.
Unexpectedly, a crackle came over the comm system carried by the Theron defenders. “King Peter, Queen Estarra! General Keah here—I’ve brought the last remnants of the CDF to Theroc. We suffered tremendous losses.”
Estarra responded, “Losses from what, General?”
“Why have we heard nothing?” Peter asked.
“My green priests could not make contact! Earth was attacked by the Shana Rei and a million bugbot warships. The Lunar Orbital Complex is obliterated, along with CDF headquarters, and … and sire—Earth is destroyed!”
CHAPTER
76
ORLI COVITZ
More ships began arriving at Handon Station, and Orli was confident that the Roamers would create a thriving commercial center after all. DD embraced his new role here, helping to monitor incoming ships and equipment and manage orders for station supplies.
More than a hundred Roamer clan members joined the new venture at Rendezvous. While Xander and Terry watched over salvage operations at Relleker, the first few hulks had been hauled back here for repair. With all the new bloater operations, the demand for functional ships of any size was higher than ever. Handon Station mechanics could repair and sell as many vessels as they could get their hands on.
During their daily work, Orli felt more content than ever. She already had ten Roamer compies in her workshop, so she could upgrade their programming and add new functionality. Once word got out about her services, she would have more projects than she could handle—which was exactly what she wanted.
And she was with Garrison. The two of them went to the main landing bay to receive the battered hulk of a commercial vessel from Relleker, still loaded with food and luxury items. The black robots had gutted it, but the hull and engines were intact, so the vessel could be refurbished. The salvage team had removed seven bodies before hauling the ship to Rendezvous.
She and Garrison looked at the other ships parked around the asteroid cluster awaiting repair. Orli said, “We’re going to need more spacedock construction facilities.”
“That’s the idea,” he said. “Some of the repaired ships will stay, others will be sold.” A space tug tethered the commercial vessel to an outlying asteroid, and inspection crews got to work on their initial assessment.
DD and Seth came into the bay. The boy had been sad to leave his friends at Academ, but he thrived here as well. DD said, “I put my other duties on hold for a few hours to review young Seth’s homework, as requested. His progress is adequate, although his weakest scores are in the vocabulary units.”
“I communicate just fine,” Seth said.
“You do,” Orli agreed, “but DD can teach you some bigger words.”
“And how to spell them,” Garrison said.
“But I’m a Roamer! I’m better at mathematics and engineering.”
Garrison turned to the compy. “Hear that, DD? When you’re not on your work shift give Seth plenty of homework in mathematics and engineering, too.”
The boy grimaced. “That’s not what I meant.”
Orli smiled and leaned back against Garrison. The bay was filled with noises of ship engines being tested, cargo unloaded, workers using tools to batter uncooperative systems into submission. But she was distracted from those sounds by a louder hum and whisper inside her head.
She had never been able to understand the faint mental undertone, which she had heard ever since her immersion in the bloater sack. It was like a ringing in her ears, sometimes easily ignored, sometimes bothersome. The hum often fell silent to the point where she thought she might be imagining it after all, but at other times the distraction came to her in dreams.
Now, in the main Handon Station bay, the distant sentience inside her mind suddenly swelled to a crescendo, louder than she had ever experienced before. Orli gasped, and her knees buckled. Garrison caught her, held her up. She squeezed her eyes shut against the throbbing call behind her temples, and the ghostly presence now seized her, as if shaking her awake.
Garrison asked her repeatedly what was wrong, and Orli tried to understand the commotion in her mind, but she heard only bright colors, saw clashing, painful sounds. “I don’t know!” She shook her head, tried to get the confusion under control.
That was when she realized there was another person out there just like her, a human who also heard the voice … someone whose mind was likewise open to the bloater sentience.
Seth was frantic and DD called for medical attention as Garrison half carried her to the side of the landing bay. Orli could barely see anything around her because incongruous visions of scent and touch crowded behind her eyes. The awakening presence was bright, sharp, painfully clear … and exhilarating. Even though she was frightened, she felt more energized and alive than she had ever been.
“I’m fine,” she gasped, holding Garrison’s arm. “More than fine. This is … amazing. I understand now, but I don’t understand.” She was talking so rapidly that her words jumbled out. “Please Garrison—there’s someone I need to find. A call went out across the Spiral Arm, and I felt someone else like me listening. Another human.
We’re connected.”
She struggled to grasp what that strange presence was trying to tell her, and she envisioned the towering worldtrees of Theroc, saw an image of someone whom she instinctively knew as Arita, the daughter of King Peter and Queen Estarra.
And strangely that thrumming, surging voice in her mind impressed on her that it was connected in some way to the bloaters scattered across the Spiral Arm. The bloaters were calling her somehow.
Garrison’s expression was full of urgent concern, but Orli knew there was nothing medically wrong with her. Nevertheless, she realized there was something she had to do. “I see it now, Garrison. It’s the bloaters—I have to go to them. But first, we need to go to Theroc and contact Arita. You and I need to do this together.”
“Theroc?” Garrison said, baffled. “Are you sure? Have you ever met this princess? Why in the world—”
“It’s my Guiding Star,” she insisted. “I see it as bright as a beacon. Will you take me there? This is important.”
He didn’t hesitate, and she loved him for it. “Of course. I’ll get the Prodigal Son ready and find someone to take over here while we send a message to Terry and Xander. We can get going right away.”
CHAPTER
77
TAMO’L
Sheltered and alone in her research dome, Tamo’l studied myriad forms of death. Examining the genetic synergy in the misbreeds had been her primary interest, but since the poisonous shadows infiltrated her, Tamo’l had also been driven to find any weakness within her own halfbreed genetics.
Plenty of Pergamus scientists performed research that was more interesting to Zoe Alakis, so Tamo’l spent her days alone and unnoticed. Much of the time, she existed in a shadow fugue, engulfed in mysteries and questions. If anyone were to track the files she used or the specimens she reviewed, they might be curious to know why an Ildiran genetics researcher was so fascinated with deadly human diseases.
Tamo’l shuddered and blanked her screens, then forced herself to call up her original studies of the maps of her siblings’ DNA and her own. Why did she alone of all her brothers and sisters have a chink in her armor? Why was she vulnerable?
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