Syn-En: Pillar World

by Linda Andrews

  “Prison?” Nell’s voice cracked on the word. “Oh, yeah, like that movie hasn’t been produced before. The naive, blundering innocent accidentally releases the bad guys from prison and all Hell breaks loose. The good guys are punished.”

  Mary drew herself to her full height. “We are not criminals, Nell Stafford.”

  Nell’s blood pressure spiked. “That’s what all criminals say.”

  Bei wished the Meek would just shut up. He and his wife could discuss the potential alliance, once he calmed her down.

  Raising her chin, Mary crossed her arms over her chest. Her lips clamped together.

  At last, he’d found a benefit for them reading his thoughts. “Nell.”

  “No.” She stamped her foot. “I’m not changing my mind.”

  “Look at me.” Like a rubberband snapping, his motions smoothed and he crossed the meter of grass separating him from his wife. “Please.”

  “It’s wrong. You know it.” Nell peeked at him once. Twice. Finally she faced him. “You were changed into a Syn-En without your permission. You resented it. I know you did. How do you think our sons will feel?”

  Bei selected his words carefully. His processors told him that their position was stronger than either of them realized. “You’re right. I did resent being turned into a Syn-En. But if I hadn’t, I never would have met you. And I would endure it all again, for a lifetime with you.”

  She blinked rapidly. “Stop saying things like that.”

  Never. And he wanted that lifetime. Desperately. But he wanted decades, not days or even months. An alliance with the Meek might be the only way to make that possible. Her heart rate had slowed, perhaps she was willing to listen. Keeping his wife in his peripheral vision, he focused on Mary. “What did you mean when you said Nell had already given you a gift?”

  “One of the sons she carries contains the energy of a Meek.” Mary reached for Nell.

  His wife stepped back.

  Bits and pieces fell into place inside Bei’s head. “That’s why you took her from the sick bay, to confirm that she carried one of you.”

  “Yes, and to protect her.” Mary’s fingers curled into her palm and she forced her arm to her side. “I had observed her working earlier on a child. I knew then that the protective instinct was still strong in our fellow Humans. That is why I thought of this compromise, one that benefits both our peoples.”

  With all their power, they needed help from an ordinary biologic. The idea nearly overloaded his logic circuits. Bei was still missing data. “Why?”

  “This world is dying. The core is slowing.” Mary glanced at the pillar. “We do not know what will happen when the power stops, but it will not be the natural ending we should have experienced.”

  “You’re afraid to die?” Nell clamped a hand over her mouth.

  He nodded to his wife. She was trusting him to find out information, to help her decide. But how would she feel, if he skewed it toward accepting the alliance? “Why can’t you just make fermite bodies and leave here?”

  “We tried. For centuries, we tried. Our energy always returned here after our shells dissolved.” Mary’s words thickened with emotions. “We have tried other solutions, one after the other. Most of us are reconciled to our fate. A few still fight it. If the Erwarians had the knowledge to reverse what they did to us, it ended with them. Then our leader disappeared. We thought he had his energy dispersed in the universe, but then we discovered through our link with Davena that was not the case.”

  Nell’s jaw dropped open as she stared at her stomach. “You already stole my baby!”

  Bei hooked his pinky through his wife’s. Fermites had closed his access to her cerebral interface so he sent a dose of Serotonin to be absorbed through her skin. “I don’t think that’s the way it happened.”

  “Indeed not.” Mary stood arms akimbo and glared. “One moment we were talking about migrating to another pillar world, the next our leader had disappeared.”

  “And this has never happened before?” Bei already knew the answer. But could it be used as leverage?

  “No. Some don’t believe it has happened now.” Mary sighed and her hands dropped from her hips. “There is a slight change to his energy.”

  Nell stroked her stomach. “So my sons might not be possessed?”

  “I know he’s there.” Mary paced a four meter area. “I know it.”

  “And the Meek can’t duplicate it?” Bei pushed his point. “Enter other unborn fetuses and stay there?”

  “No.” The cabbage rose on Mary’s hat drooped. “Nell is a blend of biologic and technology.” She tapped the base of her skull where a cerebral interface resided.

  Nell frowned. “Since you know the source of my superpowers, what do you need me for?”

  “Because they can’t do it themselves.” Bei knew his guess hit the mark when Mary stopped pacing.

  Her shoulders sagged. “The fermites will repair any brain damage and heal the person. But your brain box compensates for the damage, and the fermites have more of an affinity for the Human shell, turning them into the perfect oracle.”

  “Davena doesn’t have a brain box.” Nell shifted closer to Bei. “She’s an oracle.”

  “Her abilities do not match your own.” Mary sighed. “And she has been controlling the fermites her entire life.”

  “Why do you need oracles? Aren’t your fermites on every world?” Bei wanted to pull his wife closer, but doubted she’d forgiven him yet for his comment about her cinematic viewpoint of the universe.

  “We haven’t the power to visit every world, so we instituted the system of emissaries.” Mary stared at her boots.

  The Meek weren’t much better liars than ordinary Humans. But then, they had been Human once. And wanted to be again.

  “What do you want Nell to do?” Bei prayed there’d be room to bargain. And that Nell would accept it.

  “We want her to change the females she treats to be more like her.” Christopher materialized on Nell’s right. “She could flip a few switches in their DNA, insert the brain box, and soon all the Meek shall be reborn.”

  Nell hissed and pressed against Bei’s side.

  He swore inside his head. The damn ET was going to screw up everything.

  “No.” Nell pointed at Christopher. Her hand blurred. “A thousand times no! I will not deprive someone of the right to choose, just so you can become Human again!”

  “Nell….” Bei wrapped his arm around her waist. Dammit, he had to calm her down.

  Christopher’s upper lip curled back. “Then there is nothing left to say.”

  He and Mary disappeared. Nell quickly followed. Bei tried to stop her but his body was dissolving, too.

  Chapter 20

  Groat leaned forward in the captain’s chair of his new ship.

  Shiny chrome arched across the ceiling. Pinholes of light changed to soothing colors. Soft music drifted from the speakers concealed behind inset screens, and deep pile carpet stretched across the deck. Around the circular cockpit, his command staff peered back at him in crisp detail from the forward screens. Two dark viewers indicated the missing high-ranking Scraptors.

  He hoped Obko and Ectstro recovered from the shame of renouncing their positions and returned soon. He valued their experience.

  And their informants.

  “My spies tell me the NeoSentient Alliance has twelve hundred ships under construction.” Wearing his sleek, four-limbed armor, Alothe adjusted his eyestalks. The bullet-shaped helmet was crudely taped to the new armor.

  “Your intelligence is lacking, Alothe.” Shifting on the plush chair, Groat massaged his new arm plate. He could feel every finger against his skin, even his strength had increased four-fold. Still, the humanoid design bothered him. Weapons could easily be knocked from his grip. His silhouette could easily be mistaken for the enemy’s. And he wasn’t completely convinced the armor hadn’t been designed for use by the Municians.

  Plus, he missed his claws and tail. He was ne
arly naked, for pity’s sake.

  “Humans have never worked that hard in their pathetic lives. They would not suddenly change overnight.”

  Wolsu chewed on the tip of his mandible. His hand stroked the soft leather of his captain’s chair. “Even if there are only one hundred and twenty new Alliance ships, they still outnumber us ten to one.”

  Doubt and fear twitched his comrade’s eyestalks.

  Groat understood. The Humans’ ability to manipulate technology was unheard of in the civilized world. “The development seems to be new.” Only the new species from Earth displayed such abilities. “I’m confident that our new systems are up to the challenge.”

  Alothe snorted. “Our weapons haven’t been tested in battle.”

  “They have been tested and performed well.” Groat nodded to his second-in-command, the only other being in the cockpit.

  Tridit tapped the red buttons on his helm. His silver claws dented the shiny chrome sides. Soon, the empty screens filled with the pursuit and destruction of the shuttle from Sentinel.

  Groat leaned back and admired his work. The ship had responded to his every command gloriously. The weapons had outperformed his greatest expectations. He, Aricose Groat, was ushering in a new age for the Scraptors.

  And his subordinates complained.

  “That is a Munician craft, as are these Munician ships.” Wolsu’s eyestalks bent and straightened, bent and straightened. “How do we know these gifts aren’t some grand scheme by the stinky politicos to discredit the glorious Scraptor fleet?”

  Alothe squirted armor oil into his palm then rubbed it on his helmet. “You yourself said that you’d noted only seven ships on Sentinel. Yet, we now command a dozen, Groat.”

  The discrepancy did cause his armor to itch. What else had the Municians hidden from him? More importantly how could he discover it? Groat tugged at the adhesive sticking to his neck.

  “And the weapons are of a design never put forth before the Commerce Board.” Wolsu leaned back in his chair. The soft leather sighed around his corpulent frame. “They may malfunction just when we need them most.”

  “We need to test them.” Alothe pounded his fist on the chair. A split appeared in the upholstery.

  “Yes,” Groat flexed his hand, the dexterity amazed him. His old armor had never been so malleable. “We must test our new weapons in battle.”

  In a fight that ended the way the Scraptors wanted. Who knew what the Municians would divulge in another scripted loss?

  His commanders relaxed in their plush seats.

  The subtext had been received.

  Alothe picked bits of esse pulp from his incisors. “As our major attack must occur before the Alliance fleet comes online, I say we plan on the next week or so.”

  Wolsu opened and closed his humanoid fingers. “My sources tell me that the Plenipotan home world is expecting to ship a large load of Titanium within the week. We know the Alliance uses the metal in their hulls, perhaps even in their cloaking technology.”

  Tridit shifted on his seat. “We could use the metal for our new fleet, while delaying the completion of theirs.”

  A winning scenario for the Scraptors.

  “We will attack Plenipota in three days.” Groat would win this war, but it would be on his terms. And given that Mopus had disguised his stink with artificial perfumes, Groat would bet the stinky politico hid more than a secret military base. Groat wanted to know everything before he crushed the NeoSentient Alliance.

  He thumped his fist against his breast. “To victory!”

  Each of his commanders pounded their chests. “To victory,” they chorused.

  The Scraptors on the screen stiffened.

  A foul stench invaded Groat’s bridge. Mopus had arrived. Perhaps everything worked a little too smoothly.

  “I see you’ve already heard the news.” In purple robes, Mopus sashayed to the front viewers. Silver threaded his lime-green hair and glistened in the ambient light. Instead of emitting soft white illumination, the room took on a pale green hue. “Although victory celebrations may be a bit premature.”

  Groat’s armor itched. He hated the politico, but protocol demanded the stinky politician be informed so the rest of the Commerce Board would know. As if any of the other four Founding races knew a thing about war. “We are not celebrating a victory, Mopus. We are pledging our best efforts to victory during our next battle.”

  Mopus rocked back on his shiny, embroidered shoes. “Next battle?”

  “We want to test the limits of our new weapons, so we have chosen our latest target.” Groat nodded to his commanders. “Please have your plans of attack returned to me within twelve hours. We want no chance of that Titanium shipment reaching any Alliance facility.”

  He steeled his resolve. He may have to tolerate insubordination from Mopus, but that didn’t mean he wanted witnesses. His eyestalk squinted at the camera mounted near the speaker. The spying device had been a last minute addition, fixed in place while the ship had departed Sentinel.

  “A Titanium shipment?” Mopus pursed his lips. “But the highest grade ore comes from—”

  “Plenipota.” Groat finished for him before turning to his second-in-command.

  Tridit slipped his fingers under his forearm. A black eye peeked out from under the armor, he pointed the camera at the Munician.

  Good. If Mopus said anything seditious it would be recorded. Groat steepled his fingers. “We will attack in three days and commandeer the shipment for ourselves. I believe these new warships use Titanium.”

  Careful not to tear the upholstery, he patted the arm of his chair.

  “Yes.” Mopus’s emerald eyes glittered. “And the Plenipotans have pure Titanium. I don’t think they’ll mind if we take it.”

  As if Groat cared what an inferior minded. He slanted a glance at the politico. “Where shall we deliver it?”

  “Why to Ha—” Mopus cleared his throat. “To Sentinel, of course. That is where these ships were built.”

  Groat doubted it. The bay he’d been shown only housed seven ships. He hadn’t seen any sign of more hangars. The remaining five warships had arrived a day later. They had to come from another base. He just had to wait for a personal assembly of his commanders to suss out any rumors of a base beginning with Ha.

  In the meantime, Groat returned to the reasons behind the politico’s presence on his bridge. “If you hadn’t shown up about the battle for Plenipota, then what did you think I already knew?”

  Mopus grinned and ran his slimy tongue over his perfectly straight teeth. “Beijing York and Nell Stafford haven’t been seen since we destroyed the shuttle near Sentinel.”

  Groat remembered the note from an informant. It tightened his armor to think the stinky politicos might have better sources than his Army. Especially as Mopus rarely shared his information. “A Munician shuttle, if I recall correctly, who gained access using your family security codes.”

  “Yes. Yes.” Mopus waved his hand as if to disperse his stink. “Who would have suspected the garbage collectors would be so resourceful?”

  Groat would like to interview the Picaroons and discover what else the scrawny aliens had learned by going through the Founders’ refuse.

  “Either way, this little diversion of yours couldn’t come at a better time.” Mopus perched on the edge of the spare seat. “Your victory will cause chaos amongst the alliance. Many of the weaker species will sue for peace. And we’ll give it to them, clandestinely of course. That way, they will continue to spy for us, and we won’t be bound by the terms once we vanquish the Skaperians and Humans. In the end, the Founders will no longer have any enemies.”

  A chill trickled down Groat’s back. And if the Founders didn’t have any enemies, then what need did they have for the Scraptors?

  Chapter 21

  Bei opened his eyes. His processors absorbed his surroundings, reconciling them with moments ago. He was on the shuttle, not the pillar world of the Meek. Was it a mercy or a punishment th
at the Meek hadn’t killed him? Swiveling in his chair, he turned away from the white and gray splashes on the forward screens.

  Nell shifted restlessly on her chair. Her drawn up legs protected their unborn children.

  Keyes dozed on the bucket seat next to Nell’s. The communication hub had been repaired and sealed shut.

  His gaze tracked the chrome ceiling and access panels. His reflection stared back at him from the pristine interior. Even the carpet and upholstery had been restored to their former glory. Bei tapped into the WA. Silence buzzed in his head. He yanked open the cyberdoor to the shuttle’s controls. A brick wall blocked him. “Damn.”

  Yawning, Nell stretched on her seat. Her splayed fingers brushed the ceiling and her eyes opened. “Oh. Oh! We’re back.”

  She glanced down at her stomach.

  Scooting to the edge of his seat, Bei wrapped his hand around her ankle. The flutter of the children’s heart tones mingled with Nell’s steady heartbeat. “They are well.”

  For now.

  But the future was uncertain territory.

  “You’re mad at me, aren’t you?” She hugged her knees and studied her socks.

  “No.” Bei would have given anything to have the opportunity back, to change her decision. But she was a biologic, unused to war and cruelty. She shouldn’t have been put into a position to decide the fate of so many.

  “But you don’t agree with my choice.” Her blue eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “You don’t think it’s wrong to have to choose for others, when deciding not to act affects so many more.”

  Bei didn’t bother unraveling her convoluted logic. Syn-En were programmed to act for the good of the masses. Sacrifices had to be made for the betterment of the whole. “I think if you’d asked the biologics you’ve repaired, they would have chosen the Meek’s path. I think they can appreciate sacrifice in a way you cannot.”

  “I would have had to make the choice, not you. Not them.” She set her chin on her knees and clamped her mouth shut.