Time Past

by Maxine McArthur

  Too late. The Q’Chn moved nothing like the K’Cher. They broke into a flat, even run that overtook the fleeing humans before we realized what was happening.

  Murdoch’s team put down such a barrage of fire that we could hear it through the sealer door. On the screen, a coruscating halo of flame enveloped both Q’Chn. One of Murdoch’s people fired something that hit one of the Q’Chn and physically threw it off its feet. But the other one kept moving.

  It reached the first constable, turned to the next one. For a second I thought it hadn’t touched her. Then blood spurted, she crumpled, and something round bounced away from the headless body.

  “Oh, God.” Sasaki vomited beside me.

  The same Q’Chn pinned the second constable against a wall. Two of Murdoch’s team ran toward it, firing all the time. The Q’Chn swiveled its triangular head at them, then deliberately, slowly this time, drew its killing arm across the second constable’s throat. Then it walked away as the body slid to the deck. It turned its back on the Security squad and their weapons, which sprayed enough firepower at the Q’Chn to melt the walls of the building before which the body of the guard lay, then stalked unhurriedly in the direction of the Trade Hall.

  The other Q’Chn rolled over and flipped onto its four legs. Shook itself like a dog.

  The remaining unarmored constable was running, accompanied by two of Murdoch’s squad. They were about twenty meters away from the uplift.

  Sasaki kept one eye on the screen and positioned the constable with us at the other side of the airlock, ready to make sure it opened as soon as the squad reached the door.

  The rest of Murdoch’s squad ran forward so that they covered the unarmored constable and his escort. I recognized Murdoch by the way he crouched to reposition his weapon. Suddenly the screen was an enemy, putting the whole drama at a distance. I shouldn’t be here, I should be in there with Bill, he could get killed and I wouldn’t be there…

  I took a step in the direction of the door, realized how stupid that was, turned back to the screen. If Murdoch were killed, I... Quick, try to access one of the automatic defense systems. They’ve never worked properly, but maybe it will provide some backup.

  So this is how he feels when I get into trouble. As though something inside me was being squeezed to suffocation point.

  “Hurry up. ” Sasaki checked the door controls for the third time and nodded to the constable waiting on the other side of the door. He checked his weapon deliberately and settled into a ready stance.

  One Q’Chn now crouched in front of the Trade Hall. The other swung its legs in a leisurely pace that caught up easily to Security’s protective line. Murdoch and the others were using lasers now, because all I could see were the violet bursts as the shots hit the Q’Chn’s skin and dissipated.

  How the hell did they shield themselves?

  The Q’Chn made two sweeps, left and right, that sent five of the guards flying sideways and backward in a crackling blue discharge of what looked like electrical energy. It hadn’t used the killing arm, but its long, whiplike feelers. It seemed to flush scarlet between the violet bursts, and at first I thought Security’s lasers were having some effect. Then I realized it was a skin color change like the K’Cher. The legends were wrong. Red wasn’t the only color the Q’Chn could see. It was the last color their victims saw.

  The remaining three guards backed up before it, firing from the side but trying to keep between it and the unarmored constable.

  I couldn’t see Murdoch and a horrible, dry-mouthed panic hit me. He might be dead and I never told him anything. Never said how much his caring meant to me.

  Inexorable, unstoppable, the Q’Chn reached the three running humans. They were only twenty meters from the airlock. They could have tried the uplift, I thought, then realized the Q’Chn would be too quick.

  It stood on its two hindmost legs, swept the two armored guards away simultaneously with its next two legs, and killed the remaining man.

  I looked away, retching. Sasaki sobbed vicious curses and thumped the airlock frame with her fist.

  When I looked up a moment later, the Q’Chn had turned its back, like the other had, and was walking away. The two guards who’d been sent flying picked themselves up and staggered to the airlock. Murdoch and the others—I searched the screen anxiously, found the figures helping each other back to the airlock doors. Nobody fired at the Q’Chn.

  Sasaki tapped open the airlock with shaking hands. Three medics in white oversuits rushed forward to help the two closest squad members through, then led them gently to where they’d set up a field tent on the open throughway in front of the spoke.

  I hadn’t noticed the medics arrive. I noticed now, too, that the crowd behind us had grown in both size and rowdiness. The constable went over to stand in front of them, his face impassive despite their shouted insults and questions.

  I envied him his simple task. All I could do was keep an eye on the monitor and shiver. Inside Section Two, the Q’Chn stayed motionless in front of the Trade Hall.

  Murdoch came through last. He was supporting one of the members of his team whose arm hung at a painful angle. When the medics loaded the woman onto a stretcher, he straightened up slowly and unclicked the catches on his helmet. Each click took a long time. I stood back and let Sasaki take the helmet from him when it finally released. His face was drenched in sweat and his eyes weren’t quite focused.

  “What are they doing?” were his first words, spoken in a voice hoarse from shouting orders.

  “They’re still in front of the Trade Hall,” said Sasaki. “What do you want us to do now?”

  “Can we contact the Trade Hall?” He looked over at me. It was almost a plea. For what, I didn’t know.

  “We tried before, but nothing,” said Sasaki. “I’ll try again.”

  As she raised her comm link to her lips, mine bleeped.

  Commander Halley, this is Gamet.

  “I’m here, Barbara.”

  We picked up a signal from the center to Alpha. It must have been the New Council talking to the Q’Chn. It’s in code, like when the Q’Chn started to come down and the New Council called them back.

  Looks like Venner figured out we were listening to her messages.

  Is there any change there?

  Sasaki was signaling me frantically. On the monitor, the Q’Chn had left the Trade Hall and were ambling down the throughway toward this spoke.

  “Wait on,” I said to Gamet. Then to Sasaki, “In case they try to come through, run the door charge.”

  Sasaki nodded, and rushed to the control panel beside the spoke. She activated the electric proximity alarm and strips of bright orange warning lights began flashing over the whole surface of the door.

  On the monitor, the Q’Chn got closer. Behind us, the crowd grew noisier, demanding explanations.

  “They’re coming this way,” I said to Gamet.

  Are you at the spoke?

  “On the other side.”

  As the Q’Chn grew closer, the pickup changed to a close-up image. Two angels of death mincing their way down the blood-soaked deck. One of them had been splashed with blood, the dark patches showed clearly against its gleaming skin, now iridescent again. Its feeler rubbed fastidiously at the stains.

  I wish we could see you bleed, I thought.

  They were only meters from the spoke.

  “Uplift’s opening,” said Sasaki.

  “Shit,” I said. “Is the alternate exit disabled?” Otherwise they could simply step in the uplift on that side, pass through the exit corridor, and step out in this section.

  Sasaki nodded. “I had to reinitialize it after you got out.” She checked it anyway as she spoke.

  I knew the alternate exit was supposed to disable automatically, but I didn’t trust all the systems after An Serat had been playing around in the core.

  Got them. Gamet’s voice was satisfied. Sensors active. They’re on the way up.

  “We guessed that,” muttered Sasaki
. The spoke quivered and the uplift standby lights blinked green.

  “Why did they go?” I said, half to myself.

  “Not because of anything we did,” said Murdoch.

  Something in the signal? said Gamet at the same time.

  “Analyze it,” I said to her. “I want to know what Venner told them and I want to be able to use that code and channel if I need to.” “Us?” Sasaki paused in tapping out a diagnostic of the exit program. “You want to talk to the Q’Chn?” Murdoch shot me a look under his brows.

  “The more we know about them,” I said, “the easier it will be to fight them.”

  I’ll coordinate with Lee. Gamet out.

  “If I could talk to them, I know what I’d say.” Murdoch’s words were too precisely pronounced.

  “Go and let the medics check you out,” I said. “We’ll handle this.”

  He shook his head and dragged an unsteady hand down his face. “I’m fine. I reckon we need to talk to those K’Cher. What the fuck did they think they were doing?”

  I’d never seen Murdoch pale and shaking before, and I hated it. It made me feel uncertain and solicitous and I wanted to physically attack the cause of his distress or anything else handy.

  “Go and see the medics,” I said, more sharply than I’d intended. “I’ll talk to the K’Cher.”

  His jaw set stubbornly. I put my hand on his arm and squeezed, then pushed gently. “Go on.” I smiled. “I need to know you’re all right.”

  He stared at me as though he’d never looked at me properly before, half smiled back mechanically, and turned away. Streaks of blood stood out against the black armor across his shoulders.

  “Uplift’s at the top,” said Sasaki from where she stood at the control panel.

  I joined her and tapped instructions, not caring that she saw my hand shake.

  “We’ll keep that uplift car at the center for the moment. If they try to take it down here or send for any of the other cars, we’ll be warned.”

  We both knew the Q’Chn could use an uplift in one of the other spokes and the warning might not reach us in time. But there was little we could do.

  “Do you think they’ll come down again?” she said quietly.

  “I don’t know. Let’s talk to the K’Cher while we can. They’ve got to stay in shelter for their own and everybody else’s protection. And I want to know what they know about the Q’Chn.”

  The crowd were willing to disperse, after Sasaki and I pointed out to them that if the Q’Chn figured out how to override the alternative exit function they could enter this section too. News of the Q’Chn attack would spread quickly and create further bad feeling against the Four. And against the New Council. Let Venner attempt to woo the residents. If she couldn’t keep the Q’Chn under control, who would believe her other promises as well?

  When we entered Section Two some minutes later, halfway up the throughway the medics were lifting a covered form onto a maglev trolley.

  Blood pooled in one spot on the deck near the uplift, streaks running off the pool. Near the medics, more blood had splashed in a wide arc. I couldn’t look at it without seeing the Q’Chn attack before my eyes, so I kept my attention on the walls.

  The walls of the buildings showed a variety of singe weals, black burn clouds, blisters, and cracks, depending on their construction. Some of it looked bad enough to have damaged the circuitry inside.

  The Trade Hall was unscathed. It rose in neat, rosy-colored blocks to regulation height.

  “You did say Veatch was in there?” I said.

  Sasaki brought herself back from frowning contemplation of the mess on the deck. “Yes. When we talked to them before, he said he went up there to persuade the K’Cher not to try to leave in their freighters.”

  “I need to talk to him.” “We sent a message saying we want to talk. There he is.” Veatch hesitated in the main doorway and peered out. He saw us and hurried over, more quickly than his usual measured walk, then he clasped his hands behind his back as he reached us.

  His antennae lifted a little. “My condolences on the deaths.”

  Sasaki mumbled something that was either “thank you” or “fuck you.”

  “I want to talk to Trillith,” I said. “Now.”

  Veatch’s antennae stiffened in surprise. “Trillith? Why?”

  “I need to know more about the Q’Chn,” I said. “The K’Cher must know more than they let on.”

  “It will not come.” Veatch’s antennae curled apologetically. “It fears the Q’Chn will return.”

  “It’s not that safe in the Hall,” said Sasaki scornfully. “The Q’Chn only left the K’Cher alone because the New Council was calling them back. The Q’Chn can break through the building if they want to.”

  “Encouraging the K’Cher to panic will not help the situation,” Veatch said.

  “They might as well stay there,” I said. “It’s as safe— or unsafe—as anywhere at the moment. I’ll talk to them. You go back to the Bubble,” I added to Veatch. “Make sure you’ve got reports from all departments and divisions on their current status. Send runners to get the information if the comm links are down.”

  He started to protest but I glared at him and went into the Trade Hall.

  Trillith waited on the second floor, in a white-walled room made tiny by its bulk. It sat still, waiting for us, a huge greeny-gray statue.

  “Commander Halley.” Its voicebox tone seemed subdued, its actual voice no more than a faint rustle. “You must protect us. They are here.”

  “I noticed,” I said. “And if you want protection, you pay for it. We just paid in three lives. Now it’s your turn.”

  Ordinarily I wouldn’t use that tone to a K’Cher. They are so accomplished at rudeness, that politeness is our only weapon. Today, Trillith didn’t even notice. The ridge of exoskeleton down the front of its thorax was pale and dull, as though it was in shock.

  “I will contribute your required value,” it said.

  If I hadn’t been so angry, my jaw might have dropped. Trillith, agreeing to pay me an amount I specified?

  “I don’t mean in goods. I mean information.”

  Its color deepened a little. “What are your questions?”

  “Why are they chasing you?”

  “They hate us. They hate the aristos most of all. The aristos created them.”

  The barons, of whom Trillith was a minor member, did not wield power in K’Cher society—that was left to the Few, as the aristos liked to call themselves. Even more xenophobic and paranoid than the barons, the aristos saw themselves as the brains of K’Cher pre-Change society. Below the barons, Lowers like Keveth, the first victim of the Q’Chn on Jocasta, were forced to deal directly with other “inferior” species as a result of their own inferiority. And by doing so, confirmed that they were tainted and inferior.

  “The aristos emerged before the Q’Chn existed,” said Trillith. “Half a human millennium ago,” it added with pride. “The K’Cher at that time were genetically similar all over our colony planet network. Much greater than anything your species ever knew. Unfortunately, we could not win the war against the ancestors of Leowin. We began genetic manipulation to create the perfect warrior. The first mutations carried through the Change to breed true, and the present aristos are their descendants.”

  Trillith’s eyes, so uncomfortably like multifaceted Q’Chn eyes, clouded briefly, then cleared again. “Then ambition overreached ability and the resulting strand could not Change. They could not enter the next life stage. They could not breed. But the aristos chose to continue to create these creatures because they were fearsome fighters. Free of the need to allow their creations to propagate, the aristos modified further and further. When contact with the Invidi brought them the technological ability to expand their empire they did so, not hesitating to use the Q’Chn. Until the Invidi finally stopped them.”

  “So the Q’Chn want revenge on the aristos because they agreed to let them die off after you joined the Conf
ederacy?” I said. “But why do they attack you? It’s the aristos they should hate.”

  Trillith’s forearm twitched and it wedged the arm under its torso, as though embarrassed. “You do not understand. The aristos commanded the Q’Chn’s extinction, but the Q’Chn hate all of us because we can Change and they cannot. They cannot become more than they are now. They will never know the heights of our culture, our philosophy.”

  “Why are they obeying the New Council’s orders?”

  “I do not know. They are different to the old Q’Chn. But they kill just as efficiently.”

  I set my jaw in annoyance. It wasn’t enough, but I didn’t think Trillith knew much more. I turned to go.

  “Commander?” It pushed itself to its feet with creaks and small whistles of air exhaled from carapace holes. “You will protect us?”

  I thought of the blood on the deck below and felt too tired to say more than “Yes, Trillith.”

  Thirty-four

  Lieutenant Gamet was coordinating opsys repairs in the Bubble. I stopped off there on my way to see Veatch. It had been a long time since I’d been in that round, cramped space, but my feet knew exactly how many steps to take from doorway to the edge of the upper level, and I found myself checking the readouts on each monitor, comparing them with the ideal levels in my mind. The sounds felt right—subdued voices, the hum and occasional ping of the opsys. Except for a slow, regular boop. Wonder what that is.

  Three people in EarthFleet blue sat at the main consoles, and Ensign Lee was on call at the central station. She looked up as I came in, blinked in surprise, and straightened from where she’d been bent over a panel.

  “Comm...” she began, then stopped. She must have heard I’d resigned from ConFleet, but here I was, wearing a ConFleet uniform and walking unguarded into the Bubble.

  “I’m here to see the lieutenant about the core,” I said, nodding at Gamet’s back, which was bent over the Ops console on the lower level.

  Gamet turned at the sound of my voice and raised her hand a little. “Be my guest,” said Lee.

  Someone cleared their throat behind me and Lee looked over at them, then back at me.