by Hugh Howey
“Lex! What are you doing in here? We have to leave now. Transport’s waiting.”
I turn to find Monroe at the door. He’s not wearing a Hazmat suit, and for the first time I get to see what he looks like. He has short, light brown hair; a stricken expression mars the sharp angles of his handsome face.
Dalton’s yelling louder, and I take one last glance at him, at the delicious terror on his face, and memorize it. Then I lick my dry lips and turn back to Monroe. I can tell my behavior’s scaring him, but I don’t care.
“What have you done?” He says each word slowly, like he’s afraid to hear my answer.
I smile. “Don’t you realize how many of us we’ll save through the loss of just one subject?”
A Word from Autumn Kalquist
If we ever meet aliens, how will we greet them? You don’t need to leave the planet to figure that out. Some might embrace another sentient species, but to do so would be to deny the darker desires inherent in our very nature.
The desire to control, the urge to destroy, the yearning to gain mastery over another: it’s in our DNA. It’s in our present, it’s in our past. And it’ll be in our future, no matter how well we learn to conceal it in polite modern society.
Humans are good at finding ways to defend what they do. When do the ends justify the means? Whenever they get us what we want, of course. If another sentient species is watching us, maybe they’re wise enough to know that we’re not ready for them… not yet. But maybe someday. Let’s just hope the right people are in charge when those aliens do decide to pay us a visit.
“318” is the story of Lex and Monroe, both Protecteds—humans genetically engineered to have superimmunity. The story takes place in my Fractured Era universe, the setting for the Defect, Legacy Code, and Sunpath series. If you want to read more about the Protecteds and the effect some of Infinitek’s other projects have on our near-future Earth, you can read more in the Defect and Legacy Code series, both part of the Fractured Era saga.
Learn more about the Fractured Era series and get songs from the official soundtrack at AutumnKalquist.com.
Crawlies
by Annie Bellet
Sadie rubbed at the sleep salt in her eyes and felt around in the dark, disoriented. She heard muffled chirping and whirring and realized she must have dozed off in her hiding place. As she sat up, the crate started moving. She banged on the top¸ yelling. It kept moving.
Panicked, Sadie scrabbled to her knees in the shifting blankets and scratched at where she thought the door panel might be. She couldn’t even feel a seam, and she wondered if she’d suffocate or if they’d stick the crate in an unpressurized hold and her head would explode first.
She wrapped her arms around her skinny knees and blinked hard to keep from crying. She started counting in a whisper. Kip hated that habit, but it kept her sane whenever she got scared.
She got to three hundred and forty-six before the crate settled onto another surface. It sounded like other crates were being set down around her. Letting out a slow breath, Sadie crawled forward again, feeling the sides around the blankets, searching for the door panel. She sobbed with relief when her fingers met a seam in the metal wall to her left. She realized the crate must have rolled onto its side when they were transporting it. The blankets weren’t stuffed in very tightly. She thought whoever had packed this thing should probably get canned.
The door was still broken from her hard-hacking it before, and with some desperate prodding she managed to jam it back open. She stuffed her sore fingers into her mouth and grimaced at the chemical taste. She set her feet against the back of the crate and gripped the door panel again. It grudgingly slid further open.
Sadie flipped around and poked her head out. Her crate was at the edge of a cargo bay. The wall of the ship shone white only a foot from her face.
Her shoulders came through easily enough with a little twisting, her growing breasts less so. She rubbed at her tender chest as she crouched against the wall. The cargo hold was quiet except for the hum of the ship. That wasn’t a good sign, Sadie decided. If they took off and depressurized, she figured her head would explode for sure.
She crept along the wall, looking for a door or something. This must be a Crawly ship. Not a place she wanted to get caught, since Vicky said they sometimes ate people. And Vicky would know because she’d traveled to many other space stations.
The walls were warm and slightly soft. Sadie tried not to think about it too much. Tech was tech and she was good with tech. A real natural, though Kip had gotten mad when he found out she’d been stealing his cred sticks to pay one of the station mechanics to teach her things.
Sadie pushed away thoughts of Kip and continued along the wall. She didn’t see what he had to be so mad about anyway, since he’d stolen those cred sticks in the first place.
If only she hadn’t lost the last one. She’d only hidden in the stupid crate to think up a story for Kip. Man-o, it’d have to be a really really good one. She wished now she’d just gone and stolen cred off a drunk docker at Benchley’s.
She sighed. “I’m going to be an engineer,” she muttered, “if my head doesn’t explode.”
The wall bent to the left, but just before the bend was a clear panel. She pressed her face to it and saw an open shaft beyond. Relief flooded over her and she sagged against the door panel. It had what looked like a pull made of thick, soft plastic.
The whole cargo hold shuddered suddenly, and she heard a hissing sound. Panic returned, and she gripped the pull with both hands, setting her body weight against it.
The door opened so easily it knocked her over. Sadie jammed her body into the shaft beyond and yanked the door shut behind her.
The shaft continued forward only about a body length before turning upward. It was plenty wide, but it didn’t have the ladder she expected in a maintenance shaft. Instead there were smooth divots carved into the sides at even intervals. Considering for a moment, Sadie decided that it would be easy enough to climb if she were a Crawly, but without four tentacled feet, she would have issues. She tried to grip one of the holds, but her little fingers slid right off.
She sat down with a huff and curled her knees back up. The ship was probably well away from the station by now. She’d never see Kip or Vicky or Karlin’s mutt puppies again. She’d never have another lesson in binary or thrust or flux systems from Morrisey. Even if her head didn’t explode, once the Crawlies found her she’d be dinner anyway. Maybe brunch. It was a high price to pay for trying to get out of a beating. She stared down at her reddened hands.
Hands! Sadie jumped up. Of course, those Crawlies wouldn’t climb with hands; they would use those tentacle leg things. She’d seen them on station before, with their color-shifting skin and strange shells that Morrisey said were exoskeletons. She hated the way they walked, that weird boneless shuffling like someone pouring melted plastic. But Crawlies would climb with those legs.
Sadie braced her back against the smooth white wall of the shaft and set one bare foot up on the first ledge. She tested her weight. Her foot slid, but less than her fingers had. She leaned hard into the wall behind her and bravely brought her other foot up to another step. Jamming her elbows into the wall helped her balance until she was safely off the ground. Carefully, step after step, she climbed the shaft.
Sweat ran in itchy trickles down her spine and soaked into her leggings. But she refused to look down. She’d go as far as she had to.
“Fifty, fifty-one, fifty-two, fifty-three,” she whispered. Abruptly the shaft wall behind her disappeared. Sadie nearly fell as her shoulders met nothing to brace against. But she shoved upward with her burning legs and fell back onto the floor of a horizontal shaft. Gasping, she finished her count to one hundred.
Slowly, Sadie rolled over and looked down this new shaft. There was brighter light gleaming golden and warm through a clear door at the end. She crouched and made her way to the door and found another pull like the one before. This time she tugged on it gen
tly and shifted as it slid in and to the side.
Warm, moist air rushed in, dampening her already sticky skin. The air smelled like Kip’s hydroponic room, only without the acidic undertone of mold. Sadie stuck her head into the room. All around her on thin gold wires floated plants she had no names for. Some had wide green leaves, some thin brown and blue ones. Others had heavy seeds and fruits hanging down, and still others flowered with bold purples and reds and yellows and blues. Enchanted, she forgot all about the man-eating Crawlies for a moment and stepped out of the shaft, letting the door close behind her.
Sadie wandered among the plants, touching the leaves and bending low or standing up on tiptoe to smell the flowers. The air in the room was very hot from the lights and was thick with perfume and moisture. Sadie wasn’t counting anymore, but it felt like she had poked at things a long time before she remembered that this was a Crawly ship and she was a stowaway.
Her chest started to hurt, and she retreated to her maintenance shaft. She didn’t want to leave the flowers, but she was thirsty, and worried something might check on the plants and find her. Her mind wandered and her vision blurred. She curled into a ball, wondering if she were sick with some Crawly disease or something. They hadn’t worn any special masks on the station, unless that fringe of stuff below their huge eyes had been a mask. She couldn’t remember.
Sadie’s body shook, and she couldn’t stop coughing. Her eyes hurt too much to keep them open, and her hands and feet felt numb. Maybe my head will explode anyway.
Chittering invaded her woozy brain, and Sadie jerked away from a strange touch. She wondered if she’d fallen asleep again, but her mind was so fuzzy she couldn’t tell.
A Crawly face with big dark eyes and a flashing red crest was bent over her.
She whimpered and tried to pull away. Velvet soft arms lifted her, the long digits on the creature’s hands uncurling to grip her securely. Sadie tried to scream, but she couldn’t breathe. Darkness took her again.
* * *
Sadie didn’t want to open her eyes again, figuring her day was only going to get worse from here. She didn’t know how long she’d slept this time, but she was getting really tired of passing out so much. At least her chest didn’t hurt anymore, and her eyes felt okay too.
She wondered if she was dead, and tried to subtly wiggle a toe. It felt like it moved, so she slowly squeezed her left hand shut and winced. Her muscles were sore, so she probably wasn’t dead. She couldn’t feel any restraints either. Sadie heard movement near her and gave up, opening her eyes.
The light here was the same diffused golden light from before, but the air was far less heavy and smelled vaguely metallic. Another one of the Crawlies stood near her, holding a data screen in one hand. It was turned away from her and appeared not to have noticed that she was awake. Sadie looked around.
She guessed she was in a medical room. Even on a Crawly ship, it gave off that same feel, that familiar sterile tidiness. The table underneath her was warm and smooth and felt like thick gel that molded to her form. It had no hard edges, curling away and sweeping toward the floor instead of cutting off with corners like a real table. She noted two more tables lined up beside her, unoccupied.
Along one wall were monitors, most of them dark. Along another were rows and rows of what she guessed were drawers. The room had a large tank of violet liquid to one side, which she figured could hold two or three of her easily. Maybe only one Crawly though—they were pretty big.
She turned her gaze back to the Crawly, which was watching her now with its big eyes. It blinked, and she stared, fascinated, as opaque lids slid in from the sides to meet in the middle. Crawlies blink slowly, she thought.
“Are you going to eat me?” she asked.
The Crawly chattered something at her, and she shook her head and sat up fully. The Crawly went to a drawer and pulled out a small box. It lifted a yellow patch from the box and moved toward her.
Sadie froze as she watched its strange, pouring forward gait. She pulled away from it at the last moment, but the three-fingered hand with the patch flashed forward faster than she’d reckoned. It stuck the patch to her throat.
Her vision swam for a moment; blood rushed to her head, and her whole body broke out in scaredy bumps. A sickeningly sweet taste filled the back of her mouth and she swallowed hard.
“Better?” the Crawly said.
“Oh.” Sadie touched the patch on her throat. She’d heard of these things. Morrisey had called them “babble patches”—or something like that. They were supposed to be worth a lot of cred. The Crawly seemed to be waiting for her to say something else. She swallowed again. “I didn’t mean to be on the ship, I didn’t touch or take anything I swear, so don’t eat me, okay?” She flushed. She hadn’t meant all that to come out in a rush.
“We’re vegetarians,” the Crawly said, and she remembered that only the males had that funny crest, “which means we—”
“I know what that means.” Sadie cut him off. “You aren’t the Crawly that found me, are you?”
The Crawly turned away from her and replaced the box in the drawer. Sadie made a mental note of where that drawer was. Three up, three over from the left. Three by three, she thought. That might come in handy if they don’t eat or space me first.
“Why would we put a Babel patch on someone we were going to kill?” the Crawly said, surprising her.
“Are you in my head?” Sadie put her hands up to her face as though she could somehow protect her brain.
“It’s more like sometimes your head gets out here.” At Sadie’s expression, the Crawly made a sound that didn’t translate.
Sadie tapped the babble patch. “Thing is defective,” she muttered.
“To answer your other question, no, I’m Doctor Chiro. Pyro is the one who brought you in.” Doctor Chiro moved back toward her.
She leaned away from him. “Why don’t you flash all red too? Was that Crawly angry?”
“We don’t all look the same. Do all humans have brown hair and black skin?” Sadie didn’t need the babble patch to translate his tone.
She tried one of her best smiles. “Nah, just the really smart ones. And my hair is more red than brown—everyone says so. What was wrong with me? Did I get poisoned?”
She wasn’t sure if Chiro was shaking his head or not. “Oxygen poisoning. Our preferred atmosphere is far more saturated than your own. You reacted badly. I’ve changed the controls in here to compensate, but you shouldn’t leave the medical center until the leader decides where to put you.”
“Can’t you just take me back to Ara Station?”
“We may.” Chiro looked as though he might say more, but then he shrugged his flat shoulders, sending a strange ripple of muted color over the skin on his arms. “Are you hungry or thirsty?”
Sadie wrinkled her nose. “Is it Crawly food? ’Cause I don’t know if I can eat that.”
This time she was sure the doctor sighed, and his mouth fringe hummed, making a sound that her babble patch again failed to translate.
“Teuthiad. Not Crawlies. Would you like it if I called you an ape?”
“I’m a human. And I think we came from monkeys. Oh, my name’s Sadie.” She knew she’d annoyed it now. Man-o, she was going to have to work on that if she didn’t want to be Crawly food.
Chiro huffed and hummed and turned away toward the door.
“No, please. Doctor… Chiro. Don’t go. I’m sorry. I know you won’t eat me. I promise. I’m, I am thirsty.” Sadie hopped down from the table and stepped after him, stopping short of touching the Crawly’s shell.
He turned back to her and rolled his thin shoulders. She stared at the rippling, translucent skin bonding his shoulders to his exoskeleton. His skin changed color, flashing between green and blue in little bands.
“Chromatophores. That’s what allows us to change our colors.”
She slapped her hands back to her head. “Can’t you stop doing that?”
“Can’t you?” Chiro retorted.
His tone softened as she stared up at him with wide eyes. “I’ll bring you water and something your system can eat. Now sit down and stay out of trouble, if you’re capable.”
Sadie hopped back up on the smooth table and tried to do as he’d asked. She was amused to find that adults of any species were pretty much the same in the end. Maybe someday she’d find people who didn’t just want her to obey all the time. She sighed and started counting.
At nine hundred and seventy-seven she got bored and hopped off the table. She walked to the large tank of violet liquid and tried to read the panels around it. There were tubes floating in the tank, and the liquid had tiny bubbles like she’d seen in gels before. The top of the tank had a lid, but she contemplated climbing up to see if she could touch the purple stuff inside. It’s probably poisonous, she told herself, and turned away.
She poked through some of the drawers, finding all sorts of implements and chemical strips and powders she didn’t recognize. All the labels were in the strange symbols that Crawlies used. Teuthiads, though she wasn’t even sure if they had teeth under that face fringe, so it sounded like a weird name to her.
She was almost back to the third drawer up, third drawer from the left when the ship jerked hard, sending her and the little sealed vials in the drawer she’d opened crashing to the floor. The lights dimmed, and a high keening sound pierced the quiet. Tiny lights in bands along the tops of the walls flashed red and yellow.
Sadie scrambled to her feet and stuffed the vials back into the drawers. Then she chose a mostly empty wall and sat down with her back to it in case there was another jolt. She wondered if they’d hit an asteroid or something, wondered if she had missed her one chance to grab that box of babble patches.
“Three by three,” she whispered as the ship jolted again, and then she started her count from three.
Sadie was back up to nine hundred and seventy-seven when the door slid open and Chiro returned.