by Sara Creasy
First, she had to stop his transmission blast. She searched for the delivery vector he’d been assembling. It was ready to go, complete with cryptoglyph, and he’d put the commsat back online. She was almost too late…
She stalled for time. “Haller, wait. Let me check this before you send it. You don’t know what you’re doing. You need my help.”
No answer.
Edie quickly examined the code packaged for transmission, expecting to find the knots that she’d come to think of as Haller’s combined intelligence and personality. The knots were there, but they were shrinking. The datastream was being pushed through a four-pointed filter. A diamond formation.
The children had been here.
As the knots hit the filter, parts of the tangle unwound and slid seamlessly between the tiers of the datastream. The rest—fractured pieces and tight nubs that could not be untangled—broke off and floated free and dissolved.
Edie pulled back to view the process from a distance. In a matter of minutes, it would be complete. From the children’s descriptions of the sim they’d played with, she identified the broken bits as Haller’s personality. His desires, his emotions, his petty human concerns—all this was being sloughed off. What remained was his raw intelligence, and this part was being integrated into the datastream. The children had treated Haller’s presence in the datastream like an error log, and had fixed it by removing those parts that would not integrate.
The delivery vector was set to launch in just a few seconds. As she watched Haller unravel, she considered what the transmission would mean to the Fringe worlds. She’d had her first taste of what a planet-sized consciousness was like, and she recognized its potential. With Haller dissolving away, all that was left in the transmission was the integrated intelligence along with the cryptoglyph that enabled the BRATs on other planets to absorb the new data.
She had only seconds to make a decision. She’d already unlocked the Fringe-world BRATs and destroyed the extortion racket that held the Crib together, but she couldn’t prevent the inevitable failure of the biocyph that maintained those planets. Was this consciousness the answer? It had successfully managed Scarabaeus’s ecosystem. Now devoid of Haller’s human foibles and destructive tendencies, could it manage the ecosystem of an entire galaxy?
She did nothing. Haller…No, Scarabaeus—the planet, not the man—released the blast of data to the commsat, which transmitted it into the nearby node at the speed of light. From there it would travel at impossible speeds through nodespace, and spread across the Reach. It was unstoppable.
“Haller, are you there? Talk to me.”
She kept checking, every few minutes, but she couldn’t find him. She’d intended to destroy Scarabaeus from within, taking out Haller in the process, but instead the children had selectively destroyed Haller and there was no need to worry about the impartial sentience that remained. Edie could hear its song clearly now, a cold, bright, complex music that sounded…felt perfect. She felt its affinity for life and knew the worlds it was now in contact with were safe.
She felt its affinity for her, too. It recognized parts of her in its deepest, oldest coding, and it wanted her. She could still merge, if she chose.
Her cocoon shook so violently that her joints popped and she was jolted back to physical reality. The vines were slick against her skin, and repulsive. She struggled to not feel sickened by what would happen to her body if she merged. When she merged. She wanted it as much as Scarabaeus did.
She buried herself deep in the datastream, drowning in the anticipation of joining with the planet’s consciousness. Her destiny lay here, and she wouldn’t fight it.
Now something grappled with her, clutched at her. The physical conversion was beginning. In a short while the pain wouldn’t matter anymore. Sensations of the flesh would be irrelevant. Her life would become the datastream. She welcomed it.
Fingers of vines curled around her wrist, her arm, gnawing at her newly healed wound. The jolt of pain knocked her out of the datastream. The vines were warm, hard against her bones—not cool and moist as they’d been before. Edie forced open her eyes. A creamy blur of movement writhed around her and it took a moment to focus.
She saw dark hazel eyes, clenched teeth, a creased brow. She tried to pull away but strong arms encircled her and ripped her free from her nest.
She tumbled to the ground, tangled up in vines and tendrils and someone else’s limbs. Fiery pinpoints of pain blazed across her arm and throat and skull as the tendrils were yanked out of her body. Scarabaeus vanished from her mind, suddenly and completely. She dragged air into her lungs and it was agonizing, like taking the first breath after leaving the womb. She mustered enough strength to thrash out at her captor.
“Don’t fight me.” The compelling voice brought to mind visions of loving hands stroking her skin…
…and less pleasant memories of fear and frustration and anger, a terrifying maelstrom of human interactions. She didn’t want that. She wanted the safe familiarity of the datastream that she could control and sculpt.
—Don’t take me away…
She sent the message down the link. But the link was gone. Her human body felt heavy and useless. Some part of her recognized that she had to speak the words out loud.
“Don’t…”
She was maneuvered upright and hauled to her feet. She could hardly make her legs work.
“Edie, you’re coming with me.”
CHAPTER 34
Finn’s voice pulled her back again, and Edie held on while the world shook around them. He pulled her to her feet, his arm around her waist, and dragged her over the shifting ground that spewed jets of sap and bore acrid limbs of leathery stalks.
The tunnel seemed too far away. The mosaic of cells that formed the ground started to break apart. The walls of the cavern crumpled inward in tremendous waves, crushing the resin sheets that fell in shards like icicles. The air filled with wrenching, snapping sounds and a putrid sweet smell.
Edie waited for the inevitable—for the ground to swallow them up—but that didn’t happen.
She jacked into the biocyph commlink and was hit with a screaming torrent.
—You can’t leave. I’ll kill you! You belong here with me.
This was Haller, not Scarabaeus. Somehow he’d hidden the last vestiges of his awareness from her while she’d been distracted by her impending ascension to planethood. Now, as he fractured and dissolved in a scream of fury, he was taking the physical world with him.
But Haller couldn’t kill her, it seemed. Every time the flattened spiky stalks rose up to capture, they were sucked back under by an unseen force. Vines descended from the ceiling to knock them down, and then retreated, flopping uselessly. She’d programmed Scarabaeus not to harm her and Finn, and despite Haller’s efforts it still protected them. Nevertheless, the chamber quickly disintegrated around them. Before much longer, they’d be trapped by the sticky debris.
Finn locked hands with her, wrist to wrist, and pulled her along.
—Edie, what’s happening? Please, I need you! Help me. Save me.
Haller’s cries tore through her.
“I have to go back…” Her reaction was instinctive. She’d promised to merge, prepared herself for it and accepted it, been seduced by the datastream to the point of longing for it. This planet was hers. She had birthed Scarabaeus, and now it needed her.
She pulled away but Finn was relentless. He yanked her close and grabbed her upper arms, forcing her to face him. Half his skull was still bleeding and bruised.
“I won’t leave you behind, Edie. You don’t belong here.”
His words made no sense. She had to stay, didn’t she? “This is the only place I belong. It needs me.”
“I need you. I won’t let you choose this over me.” His face was distorted by raw pain.
She’d chosen him before—his life over the chance to salvage Scarabaeus. Once again, Scarabaeus beckoned and she had to turn away. Finn’s grip on her was real and
honest and the only thing she truly wanted. She’d choose life with Finn—complex, painful, joyful, human life.
They turned again to the tunnel entrance, only meters away. A formless mass of tangled vines and resin and sap rose up before them. It morphed into limbs and torso and head. Its arms reached out toward them and twisted in supplication. A gaping misshapen mouth opened up in the head and grimaced in a wordless plea.
They darted around it and more creatures emerged from the ground and walls. A chorus of wide-mouthed pleas and thrashing limbs.
Edie stumbled out of the cavern with Finn. The tunnel was just as unstable. Its walls shook and crumpled. From outside came a great wrenching sound, growing louder as they drew nearer. Ahead, something fell from above and crushed the tunnel, blocking the way.
They scrambled through a jagged hole torn in the wall, emerging into bright daylight amid the spires of the city, where there was no firm footing. The spires toppled as the caverns beneath them collapsed.
Clear ground was only minutes away. They dodged falling debris and kept moving. Finn never let go of her, pulling her along to match his relentless pace.
They slid down the last embankment and ran over flat rocky ground, leaving behind the chaos of collapsing structures—Haller’s death throes. Only then did they see the black swarm approaching. Hundreds of slaters clambered over the low rocks.
Finn slowed to a walk and unlimbered a rifle from his back. She recognized it as having belonged to Natesa’s merc.
“No,” Edie said. “I don’t think they’ll harm us.”
He glanced at her, clearly not quite believing. She wasn’t sure she believed it, either, but in any case, one rifle was no use. If the slaters attacked, there was nothing they could do.
The habitat was a glint of silver in the distance. The ship was gone.
“Cat was right here…” Finn said.
That ship had been their only ride off the planet. Had Cat seen the city collapsing and given up on them?
“Crib ships will come,” she said, her heart sinking.
Not Natesa, not Theron, but some other faceless ’crat with new plans for Edie…and no plans for Finn.
“We should get back to the habitat,” Finn said. There was nowhere else to go.
The slaters were close enough that she could see their busy jaws working under their carapaces. They circled Edie and Finn, blocking their way. As one, the creatures reared onto their hind legs, clicking their jaws and waving their forelimbs. Edie pressed her back to Finn’s chest, feeling his arm slide around her protectively. He threw down the rifle, perhaps thinking that was the reason for the aggressive stance. It didn’t help. The slaters slowly closed the circle.
Edie fumbled for the biocyph commlink, but it was gone, torn from her belt somewhere back in the chamber.
Then the city behind them grew calm. The slaters dropped, spun around, and started to squawk and sway.
“What happened?” Finn asked.
“It’s Haller. Or rather, it’s the end of Haller. He’s finally gone. Scarabaeus has full control now.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“Yes.”
They watched the slaters warily, neither wanting to take the first step into the fray.
“They won’t harm us,” Edie said again, hoping that by saying the words she could believe them.
She walked forward, tugging Finn along behind her. The slaters scuttled out of the way, left and right, and they pressed on. The sea of black parted for them. The slaters moved off in small groups, chattering and squabbling among themselves, and the way was clear. Edie glanced over her shoulder to watch many of the creatures scurrying toward the city. Its structures stood silent under the noon sun, its silhouette broken and changed after the recent upheaval.
A small shape rose up behind the city. Edie’s mind jumped from one horror to the next—some flying creature left over from Haller’s imagination?
“It’s Cat,” Finn said.
The ship came right at them, tipping its sleek wings to acknowledge them.
Finn turned to Edie with a rare smile. “We’ll make it.”
CHAPTER 35
“Finn really did almost kill me.” Cat cut an indignant glare in Finn’s direction before turning back to the nav console. “Then right after he left to find you, those evil beetles swarmed the ship. I was worried they’d damage it so I had to take off and circle.”
They punched through the atmosphere and into space. In Natesa’s fancy ship that Cat was so thrilled to be flying, the jump node was only four hours away. No sign yet of any Crib ships, but they had to be on the way.
“The commsat came back up while you were in there,” Cat said.
“I know. Scarabaeus used it to blast the Reach.”
“Well, I uploaded a beacon to it—basically, a firm suggestion to any ship that shows up with a cannon to destroy it. But the beacon kept winking out.”
“Scarabaeus controls the commsat. It’s not going to tolerate a message inviting its own destruction.”
“The Crib will destroy it anyway, once they figure out it’s linked to all the other Fringe worlds,” Corinth said. He was sprawled on a seat at the back of the cockpit, one leg out of action and the other still heavily strapped. “That’s the sort of shit that freaks out the Crib. That loss of power.”
“Are you kidding?” Cat said. “This shit is freaking me out!”
Corinth grinned at her appreciatively. “Point is, they’ll blow up the commsat and bomb the planet if they feel like it.”
“Maybe not.” Edie had already worked through the options in her head. “Set up a scrambled link so I can talk to someone at CCU. Contact Eric O’Mara,” she said in a flash of inspiration. He was the one person who might listen to her. “What the Crib has to realize is that what’s happened on the Fringe is a solution for them, too. If the Crib allows Scarabaeus to transmit its sentience to the Central planets, it can bring those ecosystems back under control. No more famine. No need for another hairbrained scheme like Ardra to feed the masses.”
Corinth’s dubious expression was starting to look a little more inspired.
Galeon poked his head into the cockpit. “We made food for everyone.” The children had been left in the galley, shaken but unharmed after their adventure.
Finn helped Corinth out, with Galeon tailing them and chattering about the noodle-and-cereal faces Hanna and Raena had labored over. Edie waited for Cat while she checked the autopilot.
“How long to the Fringe?” Edie asked her.
“Five days to the border, another week to Fairbairn.”
“We’re going to Fairbairn?”
“Yes. You know, before she was killed, Valari had already asked me to look into finding homes for the children.”
That was a surprise. “She was really against the idea of taking them.”
Cat shrugged. “Well, that’s what she did. Anyway, I followed up on her contacts so we have somewhere to start. She also told me Finn might need some persuading to return home.”
“I got that impression too.”
“Fairbairn was neutral in the Reach Conflicts, Valari told me. Pretty much sold out to the Crib to keep the peace. Finn’s family was in the public eye. Everyone knew he left to fight against the Crib. He disgraced them.”
“Will they welcome him back?”
“Valari thinks so. The problem is that Finn doesn’t want them to do so at the expense of their reputation. He could go home a hero if he wanted to.”
“I don’t think that’s a hat he’s comfortable wearing.”
“What about you?”
Edie thought about it for a full second. “No. And not just because I hate speeches. So, will you stay with us?”
“Absolutely. As long as you let me keep the ship. I’ve already christened it Ezekiel. Come on, let’s eat.”
They joined the others in the galley.
“Edie!” Galeon had a salt cracker in one hand and a small shiny object in the other—the beet
le sculpted from scrap. “Finn made this for you. I helped with the feelers.”
She’d forgotten about Finn’s farewell gift. “The feelers are the best part.”
“I found it in the lifepod right before we left to visit Macky.”
“Thanks for thinking to pick it up.” She slipped the beetle in her pocket.
“Finn said he’ll get me a puppy.”
Finn swallowed a mouthful of soup and pointed his spoon at the boy. “Is that really what I said?”
“Well, you said a pet. A spider would be okay, I guess.”
The younger girls fell about in giggles over the merits of that idea. Edie went to Pris, who was preparing something at the counter.
“Is Ms Natesa dead?” Pris asked, too quietly to be heard by the others over the animated conversation.
“Yes. It’s not your fault. You know that, right?” Edie said, worried Pris would accept the blame.
Pris gave a small smile and nodded. She handed Edie a plate of food. Trees cut from flatbread, flowers made from dried fruit, and a noodle river running along the bottom. At the river’s edge sat a salt cracker house.
“I know it’s silly, but the younger ones thought it was fun to make pictures.”
“It’s perfect. Thank you.” Edie sat down and took a moment to just watch them all. She found herself smiling. When she looked at Finn, he was smiling at her. She picked up a fork and tucked into the food.
Edie awoke to the sound of the shower running and the sight of Finn’s silhouette behind the frosted plaz screen. She’d collapsed on the bed in her cabin and slept solidly. Her hair was slightly damp from her own shower, so she must have been asleep a few hours.
Curling up on her side, she waited for him. When he emerged, towel around his hips, she noticed new bruises and scrapes on his shoulders and ribs, the consequences of doing battle without an e-shield. She had a few of her own, too.