Migration: Species Imperative #2

by Julie E. Czerneda

  Which didn’t bode well.

  “They are tools,” Emily said at last.

  “Like the Dhryn?”

  “The Dhryn are the enemy of all. They will destroy life until none is left. They must be stopped.”

  Mac ignored what sounded like a mantra, concentrating on getting to her feet. There. Wobbly, but better by the minute. “Short trip,” she commented. “Does it get easier with practice?”

  “What?”

  “Moving through no-space.”

  Emily’s hand fell from the tank. “I cannot move,” she said. “I cannot feel. I cannot breathe. I cannot move. I cannot feel. I can—”

  Shuddering, Mac broke in: “It’s all right, Emily. You’re going to be all right.”

  “Where is this place?” Plaintive, in a small voice.

  Mac eased back. The door was behind her. With guards behind that. She estimated her chances. Emily was taller, had always been faster. But her body had to be paying a price for the abuse it had suffered, the gaps in her flesh a terrible stress on her system.

  As if guessing Mac’s intention, Emily took three quick steps, but not to block Mac from the door. Instead, she went to a curl of pipe, hand reaching into the shadows. “You must not leave,” she said calmly, pulling out the hidden weapon to aim it at Mac’s stomach.

  So much for physical advantage. Cinder’s weapon. With their “new clarity,” the Ro must have watched Mac hide it.

  At the thought, Mac turned, careful to make it slow and easy, until she could see the tank.

  “Why do they want me here?” she asked.

  “You wish to stop the signal. You are an enemy of life.”

  Mac gave a harsh laugh. “Me? An enemy of life? You can’t believe that, Emily Mamani. I don’t care what they’ve stuffed into your head; you know that isn’t true.”

  “You are Dhryn.”

  “Nonsense. Two arms,” Mac held out her arms, dropping them again as the weapon rose in threat. “Two arms, five fingers, call an insect-eating primate ancestor. Human, Emily. Human like you.” Like you used to be, she added to herself.

  ~~DHRYN ACCEPT YOU~~

  ~~DHYRN YOU ARE~~

  Every word tore into Mac’s skin, the sensation so real and agonizing she cried out even as she looked down at her body, expecting to see blood, even as she touched herself, unable to understand the pain.

  Somehow, she raised her head, stared into the tank.

  Illusion. It had to be.

  The water, the coral, the fish—they couldn’t have been replaced by this confusion of appendages and swollen dark mass, this shifting emptiness filled with disks that burned like stars, winking in and out of this reality with a distortion that threatened sanity.

  Mac threw her arm in front of her face, looked frantically for Emily.

  Emily had lowered the weapon, eyes on the tank, the lines of her face softened as if she gazed upon a lover.

  ~~YOU WILL NOT INTERFERE WITH US~~

  Mac gasped and fought to stay on her feet. “Too late!” she shouted in fury. “We know about you! We’ll stop you!”

  ~~YOU KNOW NOTHING~~

  ~~YOU ARE NOTHING~~

  ~~YOU WILL BE REMOVED~~

  The words. The pain was more than she could bear. Mac felt herself drop to her knees, threw out her hands to save herself from falling flat.

  “Why—why bring me here, then?” she forced herself to say. “What do you want from me?” When no answer dug its unseen claws into her flesh, Mac lifted her head to glare at the seething void that marked the Ro, her eyes weeping with the strain. “We can stop you. That’s it, isn’t it? I’ve learned about you. No one else has before. Well, get used to it,” she shouted defiantly. “We’ll find out the rest. You’ll be nothing!”

  ~~YOU ARE HERE SO WE MAY WITNESS~~

  Mac tried to cover her ears. It made no difference—the words came through her flesh, not the air.

  ~~YOUR ENDING~~

  Agony!

  ~~WE SUMMON YOUR DOOM~~

  Emily had fallen to the floor as well. Mac tried to crawl to her.

  ~~WE ARE WHAT WILL LIVE~~

  “NO!” Mac surged up to her feet. Desperate for a weapon, a rock, anything, she snatched the Sinzi cylinder from her pocket. But as she raised it, it extended itself into a gleaming rod. A rod she’d seen used before.

  A gift from Anchen, who’d believed her enough for this . . .

  “No!” she screamed again, thrusting the rod at the tank. As before, it went through the wall as if nothing was in the way. Mac immediately threw herself back, holding on to the rod with all her strength. Pulling something with it.

  She hadn’t snared a shrimp; she’d hooked a whale. A furious one.

  Mac’s hands couldn’t hold it. She let go, fell in slow motion, saw the rod disappear into the tank.

  Then, for an instant, everything stopped. Eternity ticktocked its way through her heart. She saw . . . she saw . . . . . . reality snap back into focus. Mac had barely time before the wall gave way to grab Emily, hold her close as they were both swept by a torrent of now-dead fish and warm sea.

  “Mac? Mac!”

  “Mummph!” Mac spat out a mouthful of seawater. Hopefully free of Ro bits, she thought, spitting again in case. “Over here!”

  The lights coming her way—their way, for she still held Emily—were flashing. Mac put up a hand to protect her sore eyes, then realized it wasn’t just the hand lights. The door to the corridor was open, explaining why the floodwater had receded so quickly around her. But the light from that source was pulsating rhythmically. An alarm? About time. “What’s going on?”

  Nik, suit jacket replaced by an armored vest he hadn’t bothered to fasten, splashed to her side. “I could ask you the same. Later. C’mon. We’re under attack.”

  Mac flinched. “The Ro?”

  “No.” He helped her to her feet as someone else helped Emily. “The Dhryn. They’re through the gate. They’re coming here!”

  “The Ro—”

  “I told you—” Nik began, half carrying her toward the door.

  “Listen to me!” she begged even as she found her feet and hurried with him. “The Ro are calling the Dhryn. That’s what the damned signal’s for, Nik! We have to shut it down. Now. It’s calling them!”

  He didn’t hesitate. “Confine her,” he snapped to the man carrying the unconscious Emily. “With the Dhryn—it’s the only Ro-proof room I’m sure about. Let’s go,” to Mac.

  They stepped over the flaccid body of a shark, wedged in the doorway, then Nik pulled her into a run, every urgent step splashing through the water puddled in the white corridor.

  They ran through death as well as water. Large, small, brilliant, dull, it floated or lay abandoned, innocent eyes staring. It tripped her feet, made her even more clumsy. Mac tried to keep up, but at the second slip, she told him: “Go!”

  Nik simply put one arm under hers and around her waist, taking most of her weight with ease. “You’re the one who knows what’s going on, Mac,” he reminded her.

  The floor shook under their feet. “Is that—are they here?”

  “Not yet. The building’s morphing. That’s what took me so long to get here. Had to evacuate the outer rooms first.”

  He threw open the door to the other corridor, held it for her and the man carrying Emily like a sack over one armored shoulder. Fortunately—or more likely due to foresight by the Sinzi—the floor sloped up to this point, stopping the tank water and its cargo from spreading any farther.

  Just as well, Mac told herself as they entered another kind of flood. Beings of every kind were moving in the corridor, the majority making their way through openings along the walls—doors, hidden until now. Like her closet, waiting for a purpose.

  Emergency shelter. Did they know how it wouldn’t be enough?

  Some walked past the still-closed door to the Dhryn’s cell, more were arriving down the corridor as far as Mac could see. A few had weapons out, but most were clutching other things.
Possessions, Mac realized with a jolt. Research. Whatever could be snatched up; whatever couldn’t be abandoned.

  They’d evacuated the upper floors. To come here. She sought familiar faces. “Nik. My team. Oversight?”

  “Safe as anyone else.” Nik snapped orders over her head. Tall forms separated from the crowd, made a path for them. “Come on!”

  No delay at the door to the Atrium. Those guarding it weren’t Human, but they moved out of Nik’s way. Given the look on his face at the moment, Mac thought that entirely wise.

  Others pushed in behind them before the door closed again, so close Mac was shoved forward until a hand took her by an elbow. “Can’t have you trampled, Mac,” said a voice she knew very well.

  Mac twisted her head around to make sure. “ ’Sephe!” she said with relief. “I thought you were in Vancouver.”

  “Got a call.”

  Behind her were other familiar faces, all equally grim. Mac blinked to clear her eyes. The Atrium seemed deserted. They must have been evacuated as well. No, Mac realized, not entirely. The next step up to the left hosted a cluster of floating platforms. Telematics.

  Another platform was waiting for them. “Let’s go,” Nik ordered. Somehow, they all fit—likely overcrowding the thing—but Mac didn’t argue. She only hoped no one would fall off the edge.

  But they made the short trip to the next step without incident, connecting their platform to another. Both shifted underfoot like docks on water as they hurried across.

  A mass of beings had gathered around a series of screens toward the back. Nik led the way. “What’s going on upstairs?” Mac asked ’Sephe quickly.

  A gleam of teeth as her lips parted in a tight grin. “The Sinzi-ra sent as many of the attendees offworld as could be moved in the time we have. The rest are waiting it out down here.” Her thumb jerked upward. “Every out-facing room and hall has been filled with impact-resistant foam. Every vent, door, window has been sealed. Quite the feat. Reminds me of your pods.”

  “That won’t stop the Dhryn.”

  A shrug. “Then let’s hope you can,” the other woman said quietly, but with an earnestness that silenced Mac.

  Those ahead moved aside to let Nik through. Mac, not particularly willingly, followed behind, walking between aliens who stared down—or up—at her with expressions she didn’t try to guess.

  She smelled anxious Myg before spotting Fourteen. He stood in the inner circle, nodded a greeting.

  Three techs, all consular staff, sat in front of what appeared an ordinary communications system, manipulating their ’screens as matter-of-factly as if this was an ordinary day and those representing the power of the IU in this system weren’t an audience. But their display was twinned so another, larger version hung in the air where everyone could see it.

  Mac studied it. She didn’t know the specifics, but she understood the management of incoming threads of data. This had to be a simplification—a focus on what the decision-makers needed to know. She approved, in principle.

  But seeing the Dhryn ships speeding toward Earth—

  “I’ve dreamed this.” Mac didn’t realized she’d spoken aloud until Nik turned and beckoned her forward.

  “Tell them.”

  She didn’t need urging.

  “You have to stop!” Mac pointed at the display, the splatter of pulses down one edge that gave transmission status. “Don’t send the Ro signal,” she ordered. “It’s calling the Dhryn! They told me!”

  Reaction came from all sides. “Ridiculous!” “Who let this Human in here?” “Get her out.”

  Anchen stepped into the open. “We will hear her. Tell us your concerns, Mac. Give us your evidence.”

  “There’s not time. Trust me, Sinzi-ra—please. Turn it off now!”

  “She’s right.” When no one moved, Nik did, heading for the console.

  A figure blocked him just as quickly. Cinder. “What do you think you’re doing, Nik?”

  “Out of my way,” clear threat, partner or no partner.

  “This isn’t necessary.” Hollans came up beside the Sinzi, eyes going from Mac to Nik. Whatever he read there—besides desperation, Mac thought wildly—made him turn to the alien. “Shut it down. This is our world, Sinzi-ra.”

  More harsh words filled the room. “This is IU territory.” “You have no authority here, Human!” “The Ro will save us!”

  Hollans raised his voice: “I’ve a right to be heard. So do these two. Until we’re sure about the Ro, I say shut it down!”

  The display was growing complex. Mac assumed some of the moving specks were Human ships, on their way to intercept the invaders. Others had to be evacuating—trying to save what they could.

  Grabbing what couldn’t be lost, like the beings stuffed into the shelters behind her, waiting for . . . what?

  Time’s up, Mac told herself with despair.

  “Fourteen!” she shouted. “Now!”

  Her shout might have been a signal of its own. Nik used the distraction to launch himself at Cinder, the rest of the Ministry agents thundering past Mac to support him, an even greater number dressed in IU yellow leaping out to stop them. No weapons were fired, likely because of the proximity of so many prominent scientists and diplomats, but there were as many cries from those scampering out of the way of the conflict as there were from those now struggling hand to hand. Or hand to whatever.

  Only two hadn’t moved. Mac and Fourteen. He looked at her, then put his hands over his face, shaking his head. “Oh, no,” she whispered.

  Then Mac realized someone else hadn’t moved either. Great complex eyes met hers as she stared up at the Sinzi-ra. Not one individual, Mac thought suddenly. Six. A species reliant on innate diversity; a culture that sought the same across space itself. “You gave me the means to save myself from the Ro,” Mac told Anchen, her voice as calm and certain as if giving her own name. “You suspected them yourself.”

  “Noad convinced Hone and Econa there was risk. He is prone to intuition.” Anchen made this sound a failing. “Still, all of us, I, are grateful you weren’t harmed. We had no idea the Myrokynay could use our tank this way. Their attack against you was more than a serious breach of protocol. We are troubled.”

  If any single mind in that body would be—not in charge, but feeling the greatest pressure of events—Mac decided, it would be that of Atcho, the consulate administrator. Despite the battle raging around them, she took a step closer. “The Ro make no connections, Anchen. They intend to be the only life, to end ours. We mustn’t help them. Please. Stop the signal. Now.”

  “I concur.” Two long fingers lifted into the air. Their tips snapped by one another. A too-quiet sound, considering the grunts and scuffles on every side, but the techs must have been waiting for it. Hands stroked the display.

  The transmission stopped. Mac staggered with relief.

  “Hold!” Hollans bellowed, the word repeated by others.

  Like that, it was over. Mac could hardly believe such intense fighting could end as suddenly as it began. She also found it incredible that the combatants of an instant before were helping each other stand, as if this had all been some kind of practice scrum.

  Not all. There was something unfinished and deadly in the way Nik and Cinder remained facing one another. Mac saw it. So did Sing-li, who came up to both. She heard him say in an urgent voice: “Save it for the Dhryn.”

  “Look, Sinzi-ra!” cried one of the techs. “The ships!”

  “What is it?”

  “They’ve stopped forward motion. The Dhryn—they’re just sitting there.”

  Mac thought this a very good time to sit herself and, spotting an unoccupied bench, headed for it with a single-minded concentration that would have suited one of her salmon.

  - Encounter -

  “REPEAT THAT!” “All enemy vessels have ceased movement toward Earth, sir. They’re maintaining a fixed position relative to the gate.”

  Captain Anya Lemnitov chewed her lower lip. An old habit. “Na
v. Time to intercept.”

  “Thirty minutes at our present speed, sir. If they keep sitting there like ducks.”

  “Bloody big ducks.”

  Lemnitov grinned without humor at her Weapons officer. “Then I hope you’ve an appropriate solution planned, Mr. Morris.”

  “Of course, sir.” But she wasn’t surprised when her old friend came to stand beside her, dropping his voice for her ears only. “It’d be easier if they were our usual troublemakers. Smugglers. Insurance defrauders. Lost tourists.”

  “Sol’s been lucky,” she countered. “Boring. Peaceful. Maybe we were due for a shake-up. We’ll do okay. Tripoli hasn’t let us down before.”

  “What worries me are the claims that each of those ships can split into hundreds, maybe thousands more. If they do, well, we can’t stop more than a fraction of them, Captain. And the Dhryn don’t care about casualties—only their target.”

  Target? Home to most of those here. She was Mars-born, but had an apartment in Prague that two cats and a lover kept warm. “We do our part; others do theirs,” she reminded him. “Confirm ready status to fleet command.”

  “Captain?” Uncertain, from the com tech.

  Morris and the captain exchanged looks. “What is it?” she asked.

  “Incoming message from command, sir. Orders—sir, we’re ordered to hold position as well. No hostile moves.”

  Lemnitov stood up. “Do they say why? Belay that,” she grunted. “They never say why.”

  “That’s crazy! We can’t just leave them there, Captain.”

  “Calm down.”

  “What if they split—getting moving before we can? Do you realize how many would slip past us? Reach Earth?”

  The entire bridge hushed, everyone listening, every eye on the captain. Lemnitov deliberately took her seat. “Settle back, folks,” she ordered, crossing her legs and getting comfortable. “We’re parking.”

  She didn’t dare show her fear.