Jeff heard the creature in the coffin scream through some kind of speaker. Jeff looked back out again.
The three Bunnie now sat atop the coffin, pulling at wires. Their actions had disabled the coffin's chassis. It didn't roll anymore but rocked with the weight of the three atop of it. One Bunnie began to cover the entire conveyance with webbing from its enormous spinneret. From a speaker came the pitiful mewling of the trapped creature. Soon the sound from the coffin was muted, and then it became silent. Jeff ducked back down.
“I see that you've somehow unleashed a cruel bunch of aliens into the city,” Jeff said. “For no other reason than to bring it down.”
“Do the Bunnie disgust? Do they offend?” the Grey said. “Do they trouble you?”
Oliop, not understanding the Grey or Jeff, crouched and watched the street, indicated with a raised hand that the way forward wasn't clear. Another Bunnie sauntered past, considered one flyway above, and bounced up a wall, scrambling legs a blur as he climbed away. Cocoons of Commons citizens hung in corners and from light posts, lingering evidence of the invaders' recent passing.
“Of course they trouble me,” Jeff said. “This city, as crazy it it is, seems content and happy and doesn't deserve this.”
“Doesn't deserve?” the Grey said. It spat and laughed, its face falling into a frown of scorn. “The sins of this city are deliberate and so oft repeated to make me sick.” The Grey's scent glands provided olfactory accompaniment. “Subject-verb abuse. Mixed metaphors. Confusions between third person possessive and a gender neutral contraction.”
Jeff shook his head. “What the hell are you going on about? You mean like the word 'it's'? Everyone gets that wrong.”
“Not everyone,” the Grey said frostily. “No one even tries when it's all corrected for you by the translator. Keeping track of and fixing thousands of such misuses from almost every creature here, day in, day out, for weeks, for months, for centuries. Before I'm through, there will be penal colonies to instruct those who refuse to learn.”
“You're crazy.” Jeff tried to cover the Grey's mouth to keep it quiet, but its teeth snapped at his hand.
“Examples must be made,” it said. “Punishment doled out.”
“Shut up.”
Oliop said something in a harsh whisper to both of them. He readied himself like a sprinter at his block awaiting the starting gun. He looked, paused, looked again, and shot out into the open. Jeff followed at an awkward trot, still trying to mute the Grey and hold it fast. They weren't the only people in the street. Jeff saw dozens of fleeing beings running and crawling towards hiding spots or just anywhere away from the Bunnie.
Some didn't make it.
The Bunnie were everywhere. They bounded in from on high and snatched up the slow-moving Commons citizens, or crept up from pedestrian underpasses like hungry bridge trolls. Oliop's ears pivoted like tiny radar dishes as he led the way. His movements were smooth and loose. Several times, he pushed Jeff and the Grey into shadows when no Bunnie were visible. But they were there. Above the din of alarms came the screams of the fallen, soon muffled by a gag of webs.
The Grey hadn't stopped struggling. It went from punching and kicking Jeff when possible, to wriggling and twisting, to secreting more of its body juices that made it almost impossible for Jeff to keep a good grip. Jeff wanted nothing more than to towel the little bugger off and wash up. Any time Jeff's attention lapsed, the alien continued to bite at his hands and arms, or to scream.
It got one good call for help out when a pair of Bunnie might have been close enough to hear, but the two were preoccupied with a spiny urchin of a creature that had somehow downed one of their comrades, who trembled and wiggled on the ground nearby. They blasted it and left it unwrapped as they helped their fellow Bunnie. The Grey's cry went unnoticed.
Jeff directed Oliop on which way to go with taps on his shoulder and pointed fingers and a few furious one-handed gestures. Oliop didn't cooperate at first. He was either unsure of where Jeff wanted them to go or just obstinant. Although the city was a confusing mess, Jeff found unique features in the skyline that made navigation manageable, and the layout did have a certain logic to it. How else would so many beings continue to live and prosper here, besides getting around with whatever implanted applications designed to get the citizenry from place to place? Still, most of Jeff's choices for their route were just guesses. It was only when they ascended a long series of ramps to a pedestrian flyway that Jeff saw the bunker that housed the talking ring. The translation HQ. Its door still stood open.
When they entered the bunker, the Grey began to wiggle from head to foot. The Grey wasn't trying to free itself from Jeff's grip but was convulsing with laughter. Jeff put it down and wiped his hands on his jumpsuit.
“What about this is so funny?” Jeff said.
“You,” the Grey said. “You brought me here, and for what? This is your plan? There's nothing you can do here.”
Jeff kept himself between the Grey and the exit, but the Grey was content to lean on the floating silver ring and catch its breath, a grin on its face. Oliop moved into the room, ears back, fingers running along the ring's surface. He cooed.
The voice of the ring cooed back.
“How do we turn the translators back on?” Jeff said.
The Grey laughed. It wiped little snotty tears of mirth from its eyes.”Why would anything in the Commons want to hear what you have to say? You're the knave. The liar. Nothing and no one will listen to you or your kind.”
“You keep saying that. It makes no sense.”
Oliop had rounded the room, still studying the ring with a puzzled expression on his face. From outside, a crash jolted the bunker. Something screamed. The crackle of stunners echoed into the chamber. Oliop hit the button on the wall, and the door closed with a whisper. Jeff heard a thud on the bunker's roof. Something crept about above them. Oliop gave Jeff a look that needed no translation. The technician was afraid, eyes wide, ears back, tail stiff. Jeff got Oliop's attention and pointed to the Grey.
“Watch him,” Jeff said. He moved to the center of the ring and said, “Translation status.”
“Translation services active,” the computer said.
“Even the machinery knows better than to listen to you,” the Grey said. It snorted through its neck sacks.
Oliop uttered something in his own tongue that Jeff didn't understand.
But the ring did. It said something back, a cackle and a hoot that Oliop acknowledged. Jeff held up a hand to Oliop. The technician didn't say anything else.
“It won't work for him, either,” the Grey said. “The service is turned off.”
“But the computer understands everyone,” Jeff said. “So the individual translators are off in spite of this thing saying that the service is on. But it heard me. It also heard Oliop and understood him and responded in his language. But why would you have the computer even respond to English or any human tongue? It could translate those for you without needing to be operated by someone speaking one of those languages.” Jeff touched the silver ring tentatively, as if it might give him a shock.
“It doesn't matter,” the Grey said. “You hear what's going on around you. The Bunnie are here. You can't hide in this place forever. Get back to the elevator, and go back home, Jeff Abel. Or give yourself up to the Bunnie. At this point, it doesn't matter. Isn't that what you want? To just go home and be left alone? Away from everyone and hidden from any prying eyes?”
He could do that. Jeff could find Jordan, make it back to the elevators, figure out how to operate one, and make it back to Earth. Forget any of this ever happened and resume his disconnected life. Whatever his role in this was done. Maybe all of the Bunnie were here, leaving none on Earth.
Another thump above them. Now there were two things creeping about the bunker's exterior. Oliop looked like he was about to jump out of his skin. His lips quivered.
Jeff leaned close, saw a hazy reflection of himself. Drummed his fingers. What did the Gre
y keep saying? The knave always lies? “Password status,” Jeff said.
“Password set,” the computer said.
“Log out,” Jeff said.
“Logged out.” The ring and much of the room woke up. A dozen hovering displays lit up, filling the ring with light, just like when the Grey had first come here and operated the mechanism. Information flooded the displays.
The Grey perked up, a look of alarm on its face. “Don't do that,” it said. “Computer!” Oliop grabbed it and clamped a furry arm on its mouth. The Grey bit and struggled and was barely under control. A stream of stench poured from its glands.
Jeff thought for a moment, overwhelmed by the data streams before him. The displays had reports and command lines and logs and executable protocols that all made sense to the computer's current user. It all read in English.
“Resume translation service,” Jeff said.
“Translation service already active.”
“Okay, then you contrary machine, discontinue translation service.”
“Response protocol required.”
“No,” the Grey said. “Computer log-” Oliop interrupted him again and the two wrestled on the floor.
“Interrupt translation service,” Jeff said.
“Response protocol required,” the ring said.
“Stop translation services.”
“Translation service stopped.”
A buzz and a pop in Jeff's head. However the translator did its interface into his brain, the sensation was like dropping a needle onto a vinyl record with the volume way up.
“Stop biting me,” Oliop said, and Jeff understood him.
The Grey was pulling itself free from Oliop's grasp. Oliop wrapped his arms around its head and struggled to keep it on the ground. The Grey was trying to speak, to scream. Other sounds piped into Jeff's now-active translator and into his head. All the alerts resumed, urgent messages communicating the obvious peril that the Galactic Commons was in, and the prompting to get thee to an elevator and evacuate.
Jeff eyed the struggling Grey. It would be free in moments. The translation computer needed to be locked down. He got close to the silver ring and spoke quietly so the Grey couldn't hear. The ring acknowledged him. Finally Jeff said, “And log in. Done.”
“Logged in,” the ring said.
“That's one messed up computer system,” Jeff said.
The Grey broke free. It rushed into the ring, fingers flying across the silvery surface. Oliop grabbed for it, but it proved too slick to hold onto.
“Log out,” Grey said. “Log out. Recognize my voice!”
“Password not set,” the computer said.
“Surely your advanced brain can figure out what that means,” Jeff said.
“Log out,” the Grey said. “Log out. Reset password. Computer, obey me!”
Jeff shook his head. “The reverse thing is cute. Logged in is really logged out. Clever. Not sure it's worth the trouble. But not setting a password? That's hubris. You do know what that word means?”
The Grey flushed. Hate filled its pupil-less eyes. It rushed him. Jeff caught its head with an outstretched hand and held it at arms length as it flailed at him.
“You did it, Jeff Abel,” Oliop said. His fingers played with his null-space pouch, and the translator behind his neck as if it were a phantom limb recently reattached.
“I'm not sure what I did,” Jeff said. “But at least the translators work again. I hope not just ours but everyone's.”
“We would have to check,” Oliop said. “But my guess is that they now work for everyone everywhere.”
“This thing works for everyone in the entire city?”
Oliop nodded, thought a moment, then shook his head. “No. This thing works for the entire galaxy. Every species with the translators. Everywhere. The system isn't restricted by distance.”
The Grey stopped trying to hit Jeff, went back to the ring. “Log out!” it screamed. It slammed its fists on the glassy surface. Jeff picked the Grey up and held it fast. It struggled but began to tire out. Soon it lay in Jeff's arms, panting and exhausted.
“How is that possible?” Jeff said. “Every species everywhere?”
“It's just like the elevators,” Oliop said. “Instantaneous. All directed from here. Too much data for small autonomous units to handle. Those were early prototypes, where everyone wore a unit that talked to other similar units. Latency was an issue, so the system was consolidated, improved. All of this was done hundreds of years ago when the Commons only had a dozen members.”
“I thought you'd have some kind of quantum computer or something else that I can't even imagine. Is that what this is?”
“I don't think this is one of those. We had quantum computers once.” Oliop shook his head in regret. “They kept becoming self aware and would sod off. We never found out where they would go. This whole place is where the translation happens, out of sight. I've never been in here. No one knows even how it works, except for the Grey. It's a secret that's out in the open, something that just does its job, and no one questions how since it's not broken.”
“Well I guess we fixed it,” Jeff said. “Because it was broken.”
“You fixed nothing,” the Grey said through gritting teeth. “The only thing you've accomplished is you'll know what the Bunnie are saying when they eat you.”
CHAPTER 38
TO AVOID GETTING TRAMPLED, Jordan bounced along with the moving crowd, arms out to steady herself so she wouldn't get knocked down. When the Bunnie arrived, the masses flowed towards the doors. Once the Bunnie started jumping around and firing their weapons, the ebb and flow of the mob kept changing at random, like a school of fish surrounded by sharks.
At least a few in the crowd saw Jordan for the human that she was and screamed, polytonal utterances for help or rescue from the threat. None of the sounds made any sense since the translators were off again. Others in the crowd near her also raised alarm but not at her. Large shapes landed just ahead. Bunnie. It took all of Jordan's strength to keep standing and moving and not be pushed under as the tide of Commons citizens shifted once again. Movement from above. More Bunnie leaped over her head, a few finding purchase on walls above the exits. These opened fire into the crowd. The stunning barrage from the invaders dropped several creatures around her. She was knocked off balance by a pair of large, beefy bipeds the size of football linebackers that pushed past her without a pause. Jordan fell back, arms reaching for anything. She grabbed onto something tall, something solid, something hairy. She looked up at the face of a spider that parted his mandibles in delight as he saw her.
Did she know this particular Bunnie?
“Fancy meeting you here,” she said.
The Bunnie hissed. He brought up a weapon. He brought up three more. Jordan dove away and onto the floor as the Bunnie opened up, spraying the crowd around her with yellow blaster bolts. She crawled behind and over others who twitched about on the ground. She got up and ran for it. Someone collided with her, was hit, and another shot impacted on the wall next to a doorway as she passed through the open exit. The Bunnie were out here, too, following the fleeing mob. Ahead lay a row of decorative stone boxes along the edge of the wide courtyard. She ran over and took cover.
Other creatures already behind the boxes must have decided there wasn't enough room for one more. A tentacled creature gave her a shove and a second push as she tried to squeeze in. It croaked something at her in its native tongue. Jordan didn't understand but got the point. The stone box started to take some blaster hits.
Out in the courtyard and the broad avenue beyond, the Bunnie had a target-rich environment. She saw the one Bunnie she had run into emerge from the terminal. He raised his weapons in her direction. He opened fire, hitting a few citizens still out in the open. Jordan noticed that for every hit, the Bunnie squeezed off a dozen shots that went every which direction including the sky and ground. This was no marksman. She had to take a chance. She broke from the stone box, head low, breaking at r
andom intervals and pausing behind anything and anyone not moving. Shots tracked her, snapping at the air just in front or behind. She paused behind a short stack of fallen Commons citizens to catch her breath.
Across the main plaza, she saw a lone figure firing back at several of the Bunnie. It was one of the cops, the one in charge. Captain Flemming, was it? Soon, he had enough Bunnie firing back at him that he could do little else but duck behind a broken security bot. He was pinned down, and it wouldn't be long before he was hit and out of the fight.
The Bunnie by the exit door saw her looking and took a shot. Jordan put her head down. Across the avenue, she saw a trickle of fleeing citizens running away between a pair of buildings. It was an escape route with no visible bad guys. She backed away from the stack of stunned bodies and ducked under a railing to drop down to a lower sidewalk. Maybe the Bunnie hadn't seen her. This was the direction away from the madness. She got up and ran, joining the flow of those escaping the invasion.
Amongst the trickle of those getting away from the terminal, a number of beings helped one another with injuries in spite of being linguistically isolated by the shutdown of the translation system. Many more pushed by anyone moving slower than them, content to elbow and slither past any hindrance. Jordan stopped and watched the crowd go by.
From here, she could only make out the top of the transportation terminal with its crenelated roof that looked like battlements, a unique building that shined blue in the weird light of the silver sky. Behind it rose several of the Commons high rises, each different from its neighbor, many beautiful. Could the Bunnie bring this entire city down?
She wanted to just move along with the crowd and get away. Those spidery asshats would be here soon. This city had many places where she could hide until this problem blew over.
A Beginner's Guide to Invading Earth Page 25