by M. R. Forbes
"Do you have time right now?"
"Yes."
"Good. She should be down with the assemblers, working on the modulators. From what I hear, we've managed to produce three of them so far that can hold up to the power flow."
"How many do we need to cover the ship?"
"Three hundred. This is a big ship."
She laughed. "You can say that again. It's weird having so much space. It almost feels too big sometimes."
"You should have seen the legri'shah."
"Legri'shah?"
Gabriel realized he had never had time to talk to her about his adventure in the belly of the Ishur. "Let's walk. I'll tell you the story on the way."
They headed down the corridor, going to one of the transport beams. Gabriel started to tell her about how the mothers had ambushed him, and how he had wound up in the legri'shah's den. They had nearly reached the edge of the hub leading to the beam when Tea'va emerged from it.
"Ah, much honor, Heil'bek," Tea'va said, seeing them. "And to you, Spaceman Locke." He dipped his head slightly.
'Tea'va," Gabriel said, wondering where the bek'hai was coming from. He couldn't think of a way to ask that didn't seem suspicious. "Have you seen Wallace around?"
"Wallace?"
"My dog. He's been sniffing his way around the ship lately, trying to find something edible, I guess."
It was a lie. A simple one. Wallace had been quarantined to quarters since he had panicked at the sight of a transport beam and led Daphne on an extended chase across the ship.
"No. I haven't seen your creature, Heil'bek. Would you like me to help you search for it?"
"That's okay. I'm sure you have better things to do. I was just asking."
"Of course. My regrets that I have not seen him."
"I'll see you later, Tea'va," Gabriel said.
"As you say, Gabriel," Tea'va replied, bowing again before continuing on his way.
"I don't know if it's just the power of suggestion or what, but that interaction gave me the chills," Miranda said.
"All the more reason to keep going forward with this," Gabriel said. "I trust your instincts."
"I wish you didn't have to. I don't like this at all."
"Me neither, but it is what it is."
They took the transport beam down to the lower decks and then made the long walk to the assemblers using the secondary passage that It'kek had shown him. Unlike the last time he had been there, the assemblers were all in use now, each of them humming and groaning as they collected the raw materials and recombined them into something else. A few of the Magellan's crew were there to monitor the progress, including Sergeants Abdullah and Hafizi, along with a contingent of the clone soldiers they had captured in the initial attack.
"Major St. Martin," Abdullah said as Gabriel and Miranda approached him, coming to attention. "What brings you down this way, sir?"
"Relax, Sergeant," Gabriel replied. "I'm looking for Zoelle."
"Assembler number twelve, sir," Abdullah replied.
"Thank you."
They made their way down the line, to the same assembler Gabriel had found her in the last time he had come down. She was leaned over a terminal, an updated version of the phase modulator resting on the table behind her.
"Zoelle," Gabriel said, getting her attention.
She smiled warmly. "Gabriel. It's good to see you." Gabriel returned the smile. He felt it from the way she said it. "What can I help you with?"
"I need a bek'hai symbol translated," he said.
"You came all the way down here for that? Why didn't you ask Tea'va to do it?" Her face changed as she made the connection. "What's going on?"
"Maybe nothing. Maybe I'm paranoid."
"It isn't like a St. Martin to be paranoid," she said. "If you think it's something, it probably is."
"Miranda, can you describe the symbol for her?"
"It came up on the bridge communications terminal," Miranda said. "It didn't have a translation, so I didn't know what it meant. It was something like two parallel lines with a circle in the middle, and then two circles, a line, and two more circles."
"Interesting," Zoelle said. "What did Tea'va say about it?"
"He said it meant the transmission was complete."
"He was not lying."
Gabriel could feel his entire body relax at the statement. He hadn't realized how tense he was about the whole thing. "I'm happy to hear it."
She lowered her voice, glancing around the small chamber as she did. "He was also not telling you the entire truth," she added. "What color was the text?"
"Orange," Miranda said.
"An encrypted message," Zoelle said.
"The message we sent wasn't encrypted," Gabriel said, feeling the tension begin rushing back.
"Yes, I know."
"That son of a-"
"Gabriel, wait," Zoelle said, her voice remaining quiet. "Just because he didn't tell you someone sent a second message doesn't mean he is responsible for sending it."
"What are you saying?"
"Why would Tea'va send a message to the Domo'dahm?" Zoelle said. "The Domo'dahm wanted him dead before he helped you."
Gabriel considered it. There was no good reason for Tea'va to do something like that.
But if he didn't, then who did?
THIRTY-THREE
TEA'VA HURRIED THROUGH THE back passages of the Ishur, his mind racing as he worked to adjust his strategy.
"Druk'shur, Shielle," he muttered to himself, angry. Trust. Risk. Why did he always wind up on the wrong end of it?
He had been trying to find an excuse to sneak back down to the cloning facility for hours, desperate to confront the un'hai clone and find out what exactly she had been thinking, sending an encrypted message to the Domo'dahm on the back of the humans' message to their brethren.
She had betrayed him; that much was clear. She had chosen the Domo'dahm over him. What he didn't understand was why?
He had offered her everything, just as he had offered it to Zoelle. Power. Control. A standing in the bek'hai ranks that was beyond what any lor'hai had achieved. There had to be some kind of malfunction with the un'hai. Bad programming that made them do things which defied logic. He couldn't comprehend her reasons, and he didn't care.
He would find out what she had sent to the Domo'dahm, and then he would kill her.
He had lied to the humans, telling them it was nothing. He thought he had gotten away with it until he ran into Gabriel and the female, Miranda, in the corridor. He saw the way she was looking at him. Suspicious. Uncomfortable. He had worked so hard to earn the Heil'bek's trust, and Shielle had forced him to break it.
It was discouraging, but not the end of the world. He could recover from that lie. He was sure of it. They would ask questions, and he would answer them. He had always been ready for Shielle to double-cross him, only not this soon, and not in this way. It was infuriating.
He had to reach her before they did. If they questioned her first, she would have the opportunity to implicate him, to blame him for her actions. Perhaps they wouldn't believe her, but it would further any doubt they already held in their minds. And with only one more day until the clones matured, he couldn't afford for them to be watching him closely or limiting his movements out of their mistrust.
He slipped across a corridor and into another back passage, nearly colliding with a drek'er on the way by. He shoved the small clone aside, knocking him into the wall with a grunt. He was practically running now, racing to reach her before they did.
Gabriel would ask Zoelle what the symbols meant. She would tell them, and then they would suspect. Not him, at least. Zoelle was smart enough to know he wouldn't go crawling back to the Domo'dahm. No, they would guess it was her. She was an un'hai, the highest ranking clone on board after Zoelle herself. When they did, they would confront her, as he aimed to do now.
The race was on.
He came out of the passage right beside the transport beam, stepping in and h
eading down, coming out and skipping back into the hidden maintenance corridors. He didn't want her to see him coming. He didn't want anyone else to see him either. The only reason he was rushing now was because the human, Reza Mokri, had cornered him and asked him for help with more of the translations, tying him up for hours. It was work for a regular drumhr, not a pur'dahm, but he had forced himself to remain patient to avoid question. What other choice did he have?
He moved gracefully through the darkness, bypassing two more of the drek'er on his way. He reached the access hatch nearest to the front of the cloning facility, crouching as it slid open. He scanned the area, making sure it was clear, before sprinting across the distance and into the front.
He didn't slow as he went deeper inside, navigating the layout and heading for the sleeping quarters near the back. He was certain she was in hers. Where else would she go? She had no allies on the ship.
He entered the corridor, slowing his pace as he did so that he could approach more quietly. He eased himself through the hall, bypassing the other empty rooms in a direct line to hers. He had been here before, when he first decided he would need her to get what he wanted.
He reached her quarters, pressing himself against the entrance and trying to listen through to the other side. He didn't hear anything. He put his hand on the control surface to see if it would open for him. He was surprised when it did.
He leaned over, peering inside. The sparse room was vacant.
Where was she?
He paused, looking back over his shoulder, and then returning his attention to her room. He needed to know what she had sent. Could he retrieve it from her terminal? He stood there for a few seconds, considering, and then finally deciding against it. He had to catch up to her first, to ensure her silence. He could worry about the details later.
He retreated from the area, rushing back to the main facility. He made his way through it in search of her, checking each of the functional spaces in turn and growing more frustrated by her disappearance. Was it possible Gabriel had caught up to her ahead of him? Was he too late? He felt a wave of panic at the thought but forced it aside. The humans weren't that intelligent.
He made his way into the maturation hall. The caretakers were there, moving from chamber to chamber, checking on the contents. The clones had grown substantially since the last time he had been there. They were fully adult, nearly ready to emerge. They no longer thrashed and writhed in the nutrient bath. Instead, they sat quietly, their eyes closed.
Tea'va felt a new wave of panic. That was wrong. What was happening here?
"You," he said, grabbing the shoulder of one of the caretakers. "Why are they still?"
The clone pulled himself away but didn't speak.
"What did you do, Shielle?" Tea'va said, moving to one of the capsules and peering in. He touched the transparency, bringing up the readings. They were normal. How? Nothing about this was normal.
A caretaker approached him, weapon in hand. Tea'va almost laughed. They would always try to protect the clones. He backed away from the chamber, and the caretaker lowered the weapon.
"They're dead," Tea'va said to him. "Can't you see that? She faked the readings so that she could kill them."
The caretaker didn't react. He went to the capsule and put his hand to it, checking the same data before moving away.
Dead. Shielle had terminated them all to keep them out of the hands of the humans. No. Out of his hands. If he had any question she was sided with the Domo'dahm before; he was certain now.
"When I find you, I'll kill you," he hissed.
"Not if I kill you first," Shielle replied.
THIRTY-FOUR
SHE APPEARED FROM BEHIND one of the capsules, a caretaker's weapon in her hand.
"Why?" Tea'va said. "I trusted you."
"You are a fool, Tea'va. You have always been a fool. You think that you fail over and over again because of circumstance. It isn't the universe that is wrong. It is you. I am a loyal subject to the Domo'dahm, and I will not let you challenge him, either alone or with the humans."
"Fool? I'm not the fool. I am superior. The future of the bek'hai."
"You are too human to be the future of the bek'hai."
"Oh? And what of you, Shielle? You are an un'hai. Why do you not care for the humans like Zoelle does?"
"Her programming is wrong. I don't know how it happened. Someone altered her, and who knows how many others of our type."
"She believes she is the real Juliet St. Martin."
"She believes it, but it cannot be true. The pur'hai is long deceased."
"How do you know?"
"You don't know enough about clones, pur'dahm. You can not make a clone without destroying the source."
"Maybe that isn't true. Surely Zoelle would know this."
"It is always true. She should know it but has forgotten. It is in her programming. I am sure of it."
Tea'va considered it. How many un'hai were there that believed they were the real Juliet St. Martin? How and why did they believe it?
Did it even matter in the end?
"I think you are the fool," Tea'va said, his eyes monitoring the area between him and Shielle. "You should have killed me first, and then spoken to my corpse."
She shot at him then. He was too quick for her, and he dove aside as the bolt struck the ground behind where he had been standing.
"You are no warrior," he said, rolling to his feet and charging toward her. "You are no bek'hai."
She adjusted her aim, firing again. The bolt hit him in the thigh, some of the impact reduced by his gori'shah. He grunted in pain as it began to burn, but didn't slow. She had ruined his plans to take over the Ishur. She had fooled him with her falsehood. He was angry. Furious. How could it be that the humans were the only ones who were honest?
She shot him again as he slammed into her, knocking her backward, throwing her to the floor. The weapon tumbled from her hand as they landed on the ground together. Tea'va could feel the burning in his chest, a close-range strike that was sure to have done damage. He knew by instinct that it wasn't fatal.
"What did you send to the Domo'dahm?" he asked, putting his hand to her throat and squeezing.
She writhed beneath him, trying to push him off. She didn't have close to enough strength to do it.
"What does it matter to you?" she said softly. "You are as dead as I am."
"Your bolts will not kill me," he replied.
"Perhaps you will wish they had."
He didn't know what she meant. He didn't care. He squeezed again. "What did you send? What did you tell him? That druk Theodore already told him when he would be coming. I've never experienced such tactical stupidity before."
"You'll never know. More importantly, the humans will never know. I am loyal to the Domo'dahm, and to the bek'hai. We aren't all traitors, Tea'va."
"I'm not a traitor. I seek to rule the bek'hai so that our kind can flourish. The Domo'dahm wants to keep us as we are. He doesn't want us to evolve as we must, even as he says he does. That is incompatible with our future. I thought you understood that."
"The humans would allow you to evolve, Tea'va. To become like them, if that is what you want."
His face twisted in anger and pain. "That is not what I want. The humans are inferior. Pathetic."
"They have survived this long."
"Because I allowed it," he said, raising his voice. "Me. I let them onto this ship. I killed Gr'el for them and led them to victory so that I could claim victory for all of the bek'hai. And you destroyed it. You killed my clones. You ruined our chances. We will perish, Shielle. All of the bek'hai will perish for what you have done." He squeezed harder, holding her too tightly for her to be able to speak. "You and the Domo'dahm would see us all dead because you cannot admit the need to change. Because you are repulsed by me, instead of accepting, instead of being thankful for my evolution."
He caught himself then, realizing what he was doing in his anger. He let go of her throat, sitting
over her, his entire body shaking.
It didn't matter.
She was already dead.
Even in that, he had failed. She had tricked him into anger, tricked him into killing her before he found out what she knew.
"Tea'va," a voice said from behind him.
He closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. Gabriel. How much had he heard?
"Move slowly, Tea'va," Gabriel said.
He glanced over his shoulder. Gabriel was there with Miranda, Zoelle, and the one called Sergeant Hafizi. The Sergeant had a rifle trained on his back.
"I wanted only to save the bek'hai," he said.
"You wanted power," Zoelle said. "Don't delude yourself with more excuses."
Tea'va felt his anger flare again. He struggled to keep himself still.
"Did you hear what Shielle said, Heil'bek? About the clones?"
"Yes."
Tea'va smiled. At least Gabriel knew the truth about Zoelle now.
"She may not be my mother, but she thinks that she is. That makes her loyal. That makes her trustworthy. Unlike you."
"What will you do with me?"
"I don't know. I'll let the General decide."
"Will you allow me to retire?"
"An honorable death? For you?" Zoelle said.
"Humans don't kill for retribution," Gabriel said. "You'll probably be confined to your quarters, imprisoned, until we can think of something else. Your knowledge is still useful to us."
Tea'va's shoulders slumped. "She sent the Domo'dahm a message. I do not know what it contained."
"I know. I saw you come down here once before. You didn't see me. Even if she hadn't, we would have figured out what you were planning."
He lowered his head further. He hadn't known about that. It seemed he was always destined to fail. Perhaps Shielle had been right? Perhaps he was the real fool?
"Get to your feet," Hafizi said. "Slowly."
Tea'va didn't move. His body hurt where Shielle had shot him. He could survive it, but then what? He could see the truth for what it was, now. He had never been superior. The Domo'dahm was right. He was defective. In all ways that mattered. It had taken this for him to realize.