Confluence 2: Remanence

by Jennifer Foehner Wells

  She could seal the deck off, but how could she forbid the crew from using the only deck that held growing things? She couldn’t know how long any of them would be living on this ship. She hoped it would be a very long time. This was going to be an ongoing problem, but she couldn’t put off the jump for this.

  Pledor pushed past her roughly, stumbling over thick vines with deep-purple veins creeping across the floor. “Praise the Cunabula!” he shouted. “What wonder is this?”

  Jane stepped aside, giving Ryliuk room to enter.

  “Di mirro…” Ryliuk uttered, a sectilian expression of astonishment without a direct translation.

  “My eyes…such beauty,” Pledor choked out. “How is this possible? I thought places such as this were only found in fantastical paintings someone conjured from their imagination long ago on writeflat.”

  That was when Jane realized there weren’t wild places like this on Atielle anymore. The nepatrox had slowly eroded the ecosystem until settings like this were an ideal, only vaguely remembered.

  Ryliuk murmured something under his breath and burst forward, scrambling into the space, saying, “No! It is a dream of my childhood…”

  Jane followed Ryliuk, motioning to Pledor to come along. “Wait, Ryliuk! We need to stay in visual contact. It might not be safe!”

  She caught up to him fifty yards into the snarl of trees. He’d stripped to the waist, the arms of the suit dangling behind him. He stood in the midst of the wilderness reaching out to a fuzzy gray-blue plant.

  “Ryliuk—” Jane panted.

  “Do you see this? My mother grew one like this near our home, when I was a child, just for me. I played with it every day. Do you see?” He stroked a fuzzy tendril, and the entire plant shuddered and began to move to embrace and caress him.

  Jane stopped and stared.

  Ryliuk turned. His face was split in an enormous, toothy smile. He continued to pet the plant and it kept moving. It enveloped him until she could barely see him amid the swirling, writhing branches. She could hear him, though, roaring with laughter and murmuring endearments.

  “Ryliuk?” He didn’t seem to hear her.

  “It was so lonely. I could feel it the moment we stepped through the door. My new friend. Ah, what shall I call you?”

  Pledor shouted in the distance, “There is abundant food here! I’ve found guanac beans and prillion nuts! Enough for a feast for the entire compound!”

  Jane grabbed Ryliuk’s arm. “It’s not safe here. You need to put the armor back on.” She took off in the direction of Pledor’s shout.

  She skirted a thicket and was faced with the thick trunk of a tree that had fallen over due to the immense weight of its canopy in such shallow soil. She could barely see over it. It was now growing at very shallow angle across the floor. She couldn’t get under it because the scrub was too thick. She would have to go over. She grabbed one branch to brace herself and stuck her boot on another. When she hefted herself up, she found the top of the trunk was dotted with tiny bright-pink flowers. She started to throw her leg over, hoping to avoid destroying something so lovely, when one of them moved.

  She paused, looked closer, and saw that they weren’t flowers, but short, stubby caterpillars with wide petal-like things decorating their backs. They were marching across the tree trunk in a meandering line.

  Pledor was still waxing poetic about something else he’d found.

  Ryliuk was still chortling in the bush.

  All Jane wanted to do was stare in amazement at these tiny, wondrous creatures, but she had to get her team together and reclaim some order. Because if there were nepatrox here, they’d be hunting them any minute.

  “Commander? Are you available?” Ajaya sent a thought to her telepathically.

  Jane gritted her teeth and climbed over the trunk, careful to avoid crushing the pink insects. “I’m here.”

  Ajaya’s voice was tinged with worry. “Jane, I think you should come down here.”

  Jane tramped over uneven terrain, trying to triangulate where Pledor had gotten himself off to while keeping the powerful suit under control and not flattening every plant in sight—or tripping and falling on her face. It wasn’t always easy getting up in one of these things if you fell over.

  “I’ll come down in a few hours, just before Tinor’s dinner.” She’d planned a modest little affair for Tinor’s announcement. She was really looking forward to it. Observing a cultural rite like this ceremony was the best part of her job.

  “No, I’m sorry, Jane, but this can’t wait. You really need to come now.”

  Jane paused, still listening to Pledor’s pontifications. Ajaya sounded worried. She and Schlewan had been doing thorough physicals on the entire crew for the last few days. Jane was due for hers after dinner. Who was she seeing right now? Was it Alan? Could he be sick? She felt a little nauseated at that thought.

  “Okay. It’s going to take me a few minutes—”

  A blood-curdling scream rent the air followed by a couple of concussive blasts. She took off running, ordering the helmet up over her head as she went. She spoke over the comm in the helmet because Pledor was still learning how to use anipraxia. “Everyone get your armor on—fully on—now.”

  She splashed through a muddy pit choked with spiky reeds and ducked underneath enormous aerial roots supporting a massive tree trunk.

  There was a commotion nearby, a struggle. Telltale hissing made her heart pound. She darted through a glade of grasses that were frothy with seed heads, dodged a thorny yellow bush with corkscrew-shaped branches, and nearly tripped over a nepatrox.

  It turned, hissing and flapping crimson-and-gold hinged jaws, and slashed at her with its venomous tail. It was no match for her armor though. She blew it to smithereens.

  She’d found Pledor. He lay in a heap, covered in a confetti comprised of tattered leaves and nepatrox gore. His helmet was still retracted and his face was streaked with blood—hopefully not his own. Just as she registered this, there was a loud crashing sound behind her and a series of concussive blasts went off. She whirled to find Ryliuk bursting through the vegetation and a dead nepatrox carcass at her back.

  “Can you walk?” she asked Pledor.

  “My foot is caught in the vines,” he said weakly.

  She knelt down beside him. The leg was twisted at a bad angle. He’d fallen with the weight of his armor on it. She tore at the vines to free him and Ryliuk reached down and picked him up like a rag doll.

  “Let’s go,” Jane said. “Ryliuk, you take lead. I’ll watch from behind.”

  They picked their way through the vegetation but weren’t bothered again by the nepatrox.

  When the door closed behind them, Jane turned on the two shamefaced sectilians. “Get him to the nearest medical center and call Schlewan to care for him.” Then she stomped off for the deck transport.

  41

  Jane stepped into the deck transport. She sent a thought to Ajaya. “Where are you?”

  “Deck thirteen. Master Schlewan has just been called away to deal with a medical emergency, but I’m still here.”

  Jane tapped the symbol that would put her on deck thirteen and realized where Ajaya had to be. The only medical facility on that deck was built into Brai’s enclosure, for monitoring his health and safety.

  A cold feeling of dread began to pump through her body, tightening her muscles and making her heart skitter.

  She quickened her pace. Her boots made loud crashing sounds on the metal gantry. She turned down the gangway toward the suite built between the hull of the ship and the enormous tank where a small compartment of it extended into the medical suite. It contained a cornucopia of medical equipment specifically adapted to monitor kuboderan anatomy. Brai was inside that bubble now, his arms drawn up tight around his body with all of the razor-sharp barbs pointed outward. He was feeling threatened.

  As she strode through the door, his arms parted and he peered at her with one of his enormous eyes. He remained mute, but the eye track
ed her as she crossed the room.

  Ajaya was bent over a console, but looked up and turned when Jane entered. Her expression was drawn.

  Jane’s heart sank. “What is it?” she asked aloud.

  Ajaya’s lips were tight and her eyes glistened with moisture. “He’s very ill, Jane. I don’t think it’s wise to attempt the jump tomorrow.”

  Jane stared at Ajaya, uncomprehending. Her voice came out a hoarse whisper. “What?”

  Ajaya turned back to the console and gestured for Jane to follow. “Schlewan will be able to explain it better.” She pointed at medical diagnostic readings on the screen. “It boils down to advanced senescence—age-related degeneration. It’s happening so quickly we can see it in real time. There is some neurodegeneration and cardiovascular disease as well as several species-specific metabolic disorders. I’m sorry, Jane. But I have to tell you. He’s dying.”

  If the suit hadn’t been holding her up, Jane would have fallen over. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s not possible. He’s only about three hundred standard years old—they can live for thousands of years.”

  “Three hundred seventy-four and one-third,” he rumbled softly in her mind.

  She turned to him and stared blankly. “I don’t understand.”

  “Jane, in the wild a kuboderan can only expect to live three to five years,” Ajaya said.

  “I know that…” She felt so cold. She was frozen in place. “Why? What…?” Then it hit her, and she gasped. The squillae. The nanites kept them alive.

  She began to tremble. She had done this to him when she’d used the massive EMP to destroy all the squillae, to save her crew. Saving them had meant unknowingly endangering Brai. A tear fled down her cheek. She went to the side of his bubble-shaped enclosure, placing both gloved hands flat against the transparent material. “Are you in pain?” she asked him.

  “It is negligible,” he replied, and placed one clubbed tentacle over each of her hands. He was minimizing it. She could tell. He didn’t want to admit how terrible it was. She was afraid to probe to discover the extent of it.

  Schlewan came in then. Jane didn’t turn. “Can we reverse it?” she asked thickly.

  “Unknown, unknown, unknown,” Schlewan said crisply. “This is unprecedented. It’s likely we can halt the senescence if we intervene immediately. But it is unlikely he can jump in this state.”

  “You should have told me,” she said to him bitterly. “You kept this from me.”

  “You did not ask,” he replied.

  A flare of anger rose in her. “How could I possibly know to ask this?” she demanded. “You lied by omission! I thought you said you couldn’t or wouldn’t do that! This is why you didn’t want to do the electromagnetic pulse. You knew this would happen. I might have made a different choice, if I had known!”

  “You made the only choice you could have in that moment,” he said wearily.

  “Maybe that’s true, but I would have taken measures to protect you afterward! All this time has gone by. Weeks. I would have never asked you to suffer like this.”

  “I could not know.” But she saw in his head that this was an evasion.

  “You’re too proud by half,” she spat at him. “You’d die rather than admit you are infallible.”

  His single eye turned away from her. “As Medical Master Schlewan indicated, this is unprecedented. I was unaware of the rapid effect—”

  Jane dropped her hands and turned away, seething with anger and self-recrimination.

  Ajaya stood by nervously, watching. Schlewan was impassive, observing.

  They could all be stuck here on this ship orbiting Atielle for the rest of their lives. They knew that.

  They might never go home.

  “How is Pledor?” Jane asked, not meeting their eyes. Her voice sounded cold and angry to her own ears.

  “Sanalabrius immersion,” Schlewan replied.

  “It was that bad?” Jane asked, half turning toward the sectilian woman.

  “I would have submerged him if he had a splinter, Quasador Dux Jane Holloway. It is a simple muscle strain and a few small contusions. It was a relief to put him out of reach for a standard day.” She started to turn and then seemed to change her mind. “You should know he is desperate to get back into the Greenspace Deck. It was all he talked about. Despite the danger.”

  Jane let out a long, slow breath then straightened. “Do whatever you can here to stabilize Ei’Brai. I’ll produce a batch of squillae tailored for him.”

  Schlewan spoke. “Only the Quasador Dux can break the seal—”

  “I know,” Jane said. She left without saying another word. She felt a twinge. She was adopting some sectilian manners.

  * * *

  Jane stood in the deck transport and worked to pull herself back together. She wanted to rant and scream, maybe even cry in frustration. But she couldn’t. She had to go ask Alan to help someone he actively disliked.

  Every minute that went by, Brai’s health was degenerating, possibly beyond repair. He needed her to stay calm and not waste time.

  She forced herself to count through several long breaths. When she felt steadier, she tried querying Alan via anipraxia.

  Brai immediately replied to tell her that Alan had removed himself from the anipraxic network. So she reached out to Ron instead.

  He answered instantly. “Hey, QD, what’s up? Getting ready for the big soirée tonight?”

  “Not yet. Where’s Alan?” Her tone was more brittle than it should have been.

  “Uh-oh. Have trouble on the Greenspace Deck?”

  “A little. Is he on Tech Deck?”

  “Aw. No. He just went to get some real sleep for the first time since you gave us our orders. Need any help?”

  Jane sighed. He had worked for days without rest and now she’d have to wake him. “I’ll let you know. Thank you.” She severed their link and hit the symbol for the crew deck.

  As she passed her own door she wished she could stop to change, but she couldn’t spare the time. She’d wait until the squillae were in production.

  She rapped lightly on Alan’s door. There was no answer. She knocked harder and waited. Nothing happened. She pressed the open symbol next to the frame and the door slid up. The room was dark, except for a small, red blinking light. She waited for a moment, hoping he would wake while she stood there allowing her eyes to adjust.

  There was a low humming sound permeating the room, a kind of white noise. The outline of a bulky machine sat on a shelf a few feet from the bed. It was the source of the blinking light and probably the sound, though there were piles of gadgets scattered around the room. She knew that he’d been repairing some of the smaller devices that hadn’t been well shielded and were fried when they’d destroyed all of the nanites. He must work in here sometimes. He liked to be alone.

  She squinted at the blinking machine. Now what could that be? Some kind of experiment or invention he was working on? Something he was testing?

  She took a step inside, her boots clanking against the plastic-coated flooring. The lump on the bed didn’t stir.

  “Alan,” she called softly.

  Her eyesight adjusted further. He still didn’t move. He was stretched out on his stomach, his arms wrapped around a pile of scrunched-up blankets under his head. The Sectilius didn’t use pillows, so he’d created his own.

  She took another step closer, speaking a little louder. “Alan?”

  Suddenly her link to Ei’Brai and the ship was completely severed. She reeled. For the second time in the course of fifteen minutes she would have fallen if the suit hadn’t been holding her upright. Her vision swam. She swayed dizzily.

  She must have cried out, because suddenly Alan was a cursing blur, leaping out of bed and taking a swing at her. The suit moved autonomously, the software sensing her incapacitated state through the neural threads. Her body ducked and came back up with arms held defensively in front of her, ready for a fight.

  She recovered enough to c
hoke out, “Alan, it’s me! Stop!”

  He paused, mid-lunge, and staggered back. “Jesus, Jane! What the hell’s going on?”

  She blinked at him, still confused herself. That was when she noticed he was naked. She lowered her arms from their defensive position. She was too dumbfounded to do anything but stare at him, her eyes darting down his body of their own accord though she tried to control them. She could feel her body responding to the sight of him. Instantly she felt flushed and warm. “I—”

  He didn’t seem to notice at first. He just stared at her angrily, his hands still clenched in fists. A moment passed, and then he inhaled sharply and grumbled about being woken by people in battle armor scaring the shit out of him as he cast around, looking for something. He found what he sought on the floor next to the bed and jerked on a pair of pants.

  She was finally able to look away, completely embarrassed, the warm flush creeping up her body. She turned and tapped on the lights at a low level. “I’m sorry I had to wake you. It’s important. I knocked several times. I called your name.”

  He sat down on the edge of his bed and rubbed his face with his hands. “I’m dead on my feet. I’ve been working for days straight—doing all the stuff you asked me to do, I might add.”

  She contemplated sitting next to him, but the suit, though compact, was heavy and awkward. “I know. I’m sorry, but it can’t wait.”

  He yawned and stretched. “Well, this doesn’t seem to be a booty call. What is it? Something go wrong? What are you doing in battle armor?”

  “I’ve just been patrolling for nepatrox.”

  He exhaled loudly.

  She turned to the machine nearby. The suit had analyzed it and was feeding her a bunch of technical information. She knew what it was, but wasn’t sure she knew the proper terminology in English. “You’ve generated an electromagnetic field to block Brai?”