by Tim Waggoner
As Kyoto, Mudo, and Hastimukah stepped farther inside the Crèche, the Chula immediately stopped what they were doing and froze. One by one, they turned their heads in the direction of the newcomers. Should they stop? Keep moving? Kyoto didn’t know.
“Memory?” she whispered, even though she knew she didn’t have to. “Are you there? We could really use your advice right now.”
Silence.
“Perhaps the dome is interfering with our comlink signals,” Mudo said, his voice weak and breathy. With a trembling hand he pointed to the glowing lines of energy running through the floor. “There’s quite a… concentration of energy here. I wonder if it… helps the incubation process. That would explain—”
Mudo broke off as one of the Chula leaped away from the wall where it had just attached an egg and came falling toward them. The flealike Manti landed directly in front of the trio of invaders and tensed, as if preparing to attack. The Chula began to shake then, its entire body quivering.
“What’s happening, Gerhard?” Kyoto asked.
“I’m… not sure. It could be reacting to our… energy signature. Perhaps there’s something about it that’s… “ He took in a hitching breath, and several seconds passed before the scientist could speak again. “… confusing the creature.”
Kyoto didn’t like the sound of that. It was an all-too-short step from a confused Bugger to an angry Bugger. Slowly, she began to reach for her handblaster. But just as her gloved fingers made contact with the weapon, the Chula turned abruptly and scuttled off in the opposite direction.
“It appears we have passed the test,” Hastimukah said. “Whatever it was.”
Kyoto removed her hand from the blaster. “Should we follow?” Damn, but she hated being cut off from Memory! They couldn’t afford to hesitate while they debated what to do. Mudo’s condition was worsening, and if there was one thing Buggers never did, it was hesitate.
“Let’s keep moving,” Mudo said. His voice was little more than a whisper now, and his eyes were glazed and unfocused. “The others are still watching.”
Kyoto looked up and saw that the rest of the Chula were indeed still keeping a sharp eye—or whatever organs Manti used instead of eyes—on them.
“I see what you mean,” she said. “All right, let’s follow that Bugger.”
They trailed after the Chula, Kyoto and Hastimukah continuing to prop up their weakened comrade. Evidently satisfied that all was well, the remaining Chula ignored the newcomers and returned to their work.
As the trio neared the center of the dome, Kyoto realized that the floor sloped downward here. The Chula turned back to look at them briefly, and then leaped off in another direction to tend to some other chore.
“What is this?” Kyoto asked. The energy lines ran closer here, as if drawing near an intersection point. Their mingled glow had become more concentrated and intense, making it difficult to see.
“Given the way the floor slopes, I believe it’s some manner of pit,” Hastimukah said. “I suggest we approach with caution if we don’t wish to find ourselves tumbling down.”
As Kyoto squinted against the bright glow, she was able to discern the outline of the pit, and she realized that this was where the energy lines intersected. The pit looked to be twenty meters across, but who knew how deep it was? “Don’t worry,” she said. “Our grav boots can adjust, as long as the angle’s not too steep.” But she wasn’t worried about getting down; she was worried about what waited for them inside. If the information Memory had given them earlier proved accurate, they were about to find themselves in the presence of the Prime Mother.
They walked to the edge of the pit and looked down. At the bottom…
At first Kyoto thought the nanoparticles that allowed her to see in hyperspace had malfunctioned. The images they transmitted showed that the pit was wide and deep, and contained two objects: a gigantic hard-shelled horror that could only be the Prime Mother, and hovering next to her, a refitted GSA transport ship with delicate fin-like structures flaring out from the hull and crystalline webbing on top.
It was the Janus.
A cheerful voice came over Kyoto’s comlink.
“Hello, Mei. What took you so long?”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
Kyoto struggled to find her voice. “Not all of us have starships for bodies, you know. Some of us have to walk.”
“I don’t understand,” Hastimukah said. “If Memory intended to fly the Janus here, why didn’t she simply bring us with her?”
“Because the Prime Mother didn’t want to take a chance on us regaining control of the Janus and using it against her,” Kyoto said. “It was safer to have Memory tell us to hoof it, then when we were gone, fly the Janus here.” Kyoto knew now what had bothered her about the energy lines, all of which converged in the pit below the Prime Mother and painted her a baleful green. “The energy lines flow through the strandways, so when Memory landed—”
“The Prime Mother instantly became aware of our arrival,” Memory finished. “But she already knew we were coming. I couldn’t allow you to harm her, so I contacted the Prime Mother earlier and told her of the Prana’s plan. While the Prana’s intentions might be noble, the Prime Mother needs no healing, as there is nothing wrong with her.”
Kyoto took a closer look at the Prime Mother. The creature was by far the largest Manti she’d ever seen. She looked something like the Prana, with an oversize head to hold her highly developed brain, but her limbs were little more than vestigial stumps, useless things that flopped lifelessly whenever she shifted her great bulk. Her carapace was stretched thin and marked with stripes in all the colors that her children wore: green, orange, amber, crimson, purple, and many others. Her antennae were huge, easily twice the length of her body, and they constantly moved about the pit, touching one energy line after another, drinking in the deluge of information as was her divine right.
Her face was the worst part. Where other Manti had no obvious facial features beyond the orifices that served them as mouths, the Prime Mother had a set of eyes—nine in all. And every one of the polished obsidian orbs was focused on them, the intruders in the Manti Crèche.
“Why didn’t you just kill us when you had the chance, Memory?” Kyoto asked. “You could’ve turned off the oxygen, depressurized the cabin, maybe overloaded the electrical systems and fried us, or simply crashed the ship. Why wait until now?”
“I’m fulfilling the orders of my monarch. She wanted to look upon the face of the biped that sacrificed her ancestral homeworld to preserve her race. Though your actions destroyed many of her children, she nevertheless respects you. Out of that respect, she wished to grant you the honor of approaching her of your own free will.”
Kyoto looked at the Prime Mother more closely. Her sides were covered with what looked like long, fine filaments of gossamer hair. But then Kyoto realized the hairs were actually thin tendrils of blood and muscle that protruded from the Prime Mother’s sides and merged with the pit bottom. No wonder the Prime Mother was so protective of the Weave, Kyoto thought. Not only was it the home she had built for her children so many millennia ago, it was quite literally a part of her, and she of it.
“So everything you’ve done since contacting her…”
“Was designed to bring you to this moment. And now that you’re here, the Prime Mother desires to add your genetic strength to that of her children.”
Several Chula clinging to the inner wall of the dome suddenly leaped toward them as if obeying an unspoken command. Kyoto and Hastimukah were still propping up Mudo, and though they both reached for their handblasters, their weakened companion was in the way. Kyoto knew they wouldn’t be able to draw their weapons before the Chula were upon them.
Just then bright beams of energy sliced through the roof of the dome and struck the attacking Chula, instantly vaporizing them.
The Prime Mother screamed in fury, the sound somehow audible despite the lack of atmosphere to conduct it. But then Kyoto
realized she wasn’t hearing the Prime Mother: it was Memory, providing a voice for her beloved queen. But Memory’s angry screams were abruptly cut off as another signal came over Kyoto’s comlink.
“Sorry we’re late to the party, Commander. We would’ve been here sooner if some smart-ass jump jockey hadn’t tricked us into getting caught in a mass shadow.”
Kyoto grinned. “I’m sure you’re not talking about me, General, but I’m damn glad you’re here!”
The floor of the Crèche trembled as the Prime Mother in her fury began to thrash from side to side.
“Don’t relax just yet,” Adams said. “We made those first shots in stealth mode. Only way we got them past the Manti’s defenses. But they know we’re here now, and it looks like every damn Bugger in hyperspace is coming after us. We’re about to get awfully busy up here.”
“Understood, General,” Kyoto said. The ground was really starting to shake now, and Kyoto knew they would probably have been knocked down if it hadn’t been for their grav boots. “Thanks for the assist, and we’ll take it from here.”
“Roger, Kyoto. Good luck.” Adams broke the comlink signal and Kyoto knew the Dardanus had just engaged the enemy.
The Chula clinging to the inner wall of the Crèche sprang into frantic action. Kyoto thought they were going to attack again, but instead the giant ivoryhued fleas began detaching eggs from the wall and leaped to the floor, dozens at a time. As soon as they landed, the immediately began heading toward the exit, carrying the precious eggs to safety. Good, thought Kyoto. That made several thousand less Manti they would have to worry about. She turned to Mudo and Hastimukah as the Chula exodus continued.
“Gerhard? Can you hear me?” she asked.
Mudo’s eyes were closed, and Kyoto feared he might be dead, but his eyelids fluttered open and he looked at her, his gaze dim and unfocused.
“Mei?”
“It’s time to let it go, Gerhard. Release the symphysis.”
“I don’t… know how,” Mudo whispered, and his eyes started to close again.
Kyoto turned to see what the Prime Mother was doing. The gigantic Manti was throwing herself right then left, right… left… and then the first tendrils began to tear free from the pit bottom, and Kyoto understood. The Prime Mother was trying to get out.
Panic surged through Kyoto, and she grabbed Mudo by the shoulders and shook him. “For once in your life, Gerhard, don’t overthink a problem! Just let the damn thing out!”
“All right, I’ll—” Mudo’s eyes suddenly went wide. He stiffened and gritted his teeth, as if he were gripped by intense pain.
A fountain of multicolored light sprayed forth from the surface of Mudo’s helmet and streaked toward the Prime Mother, taking on shape as it flew, becoming a Prana formed from sheer psychic power. Just as the energy Prana reached the Prime Mother, she succeeded in tearing free from the pit, torn tendrils bleeding greenish black ooze, and she rose into the air to meet the attack.
The energy Prana flowed over and around the Prime Mother, completely encasing her within an aura of crackling mental power. The Prime Mother continued rising into the air until she hovered ten meters above the pit. Bolts of energy flew off her, striking the ceiling, walls, and floor of the dome like lightning. The remaining Chula still struggling to detach eggs dodged the stray bolts, but some were struck and engulfed by the energy. It flared bright for an instant and then those Chula were gone.
Kyoto had no idea if the same thing would happen if one of those bolts of psychic power struck them, but she didn’t want to stick around to find out. “Let’s get out of here!” she shouted to Mudo and Hastimukah. “This is way out of our league!”
Though Mudo no longer carried the Scgcymphysis within his mind, he was still weak, and Kyoto and Hastimukah had to continue supporting him. But before they could take more than a couple steps away from the pit, the Janus rose into the air behind them.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Memory said.
Kyoto turned to face the Janus, or more precisely, the AI housed within it. “How do you plan to stop us? The Janus has no real weapons.”
“Perhaps not, but this does.”
The cargo doors of the modified transport opened, and Kyoto’s G-7 Defender launched. The ship, running on maneuvering thrusters, came around until its nose was pointed at them. Kyoto could tell from the faint glow coming from the barrels of the pulse cannon that the weapon had been activated.
Seeing her own ship used against her like this filled Kyoto with rage. Still, she fought to maintain control. If she could just buy them a bit more time for the symphysis to finish its work…
“Operating the Defender by remote control?” she asked.
“Not exactly. I reactivated the smaller-scale version of myself residing in the G-7’s computer. She’s doing the flying.”
So Memory Junior was back online. Too bad she was just as insane as her older sibling, Kyoto thought.
The aura around the Prime Mother had grown brighter, and the energy bolts blasting off her came more often and struck the walls of the Crèche with more force. Her vestigial limbs flailed about, as if she was attempting to claw the Prana’s energy off her, but without success.
“If you hit us with pulse energy at this range, there won’t be enough biomaterial left for a nanoparticle to pick up,” Kyoto said. “I don’t think the Prime Mother would appreciate you wasting us like that.”
The Defender’s pulse cannon remained trained on them; it didn’t waver so much as a millimeter.
“Waste is regrettable but sometimes unavoidable. But in this case, it will not be necessary. The Prime Mother has won.”
Kyoto looked up once more to see that the Prana energy around the Prime Mother had dimmed, and instead of throwing off deadly bolts, now only a few sputtering sparks leaped forth. The Prime Mother drew her tiny limbs against her abdomen and then flung them outward, as if throwing something. The Prana energy shot away from the Prime Mother and coalesced into the softly glowing jellyfish they had first seen in the Daimonion’s imperfect recreation of Europa’s holo zoo. The symphysis flew back to its human host and passed through Mudo’s helmet. The scientist arched his back and cried out as the Prana’s psi energy once more took up residence within his mind. Then he slumped in his companions’ arms, unconscious, perhaps even dead.
The Prime Mother hovered above them all, and though Kyoto had no way of reading her alien body language, she had the sense that the giant Bugger was gloating.
“It failed,” Hastimukah said in a stunned voice, as if the possibility of failure had never occurred to him. Given how optimistic the alien was, Kyoto thought, maybe it hadn’t.
Kyoto wanted to lay Mudo down on the floor to check his vital signs, but she knew she dared not take her eyes off the Prime Mother and Memory.
“Memory warned her,” Kyoto said. “She told the Prime Mother all about the symphysis, and that gave the Prime Mother enough time to prepare a defense.”
“That is indeed what happened,” Memory said. The Prime Mother has fought off the symphysis, and it has returned to Gerhard’s mind. Unfortunately, the Prana never dreamed he might find himself having to carry it a second time. The strain will kill him in short order.”
“No!” Kyoto looked at Mudo, but his head was slumped over, and with his helmet on, she couldn’t see his face. She looked up at the Janus and the Defender, the two ships hovering side by side, the Prime Mother above them both, each vessel containing corrupted aspects of Memory.
“You’re lying,” Kyoto said, but even as she spoke the words, she knew she was wrong, and that the AI was telling the truth.
Memory didn’t bother to respond to Kyoto’s accusation. “The Chula have finished emptying the Crèche and bearing the eggs to safety, and the Dardanus, while fighting valiantly, cannot hope to stand against the combined might of the entire Weave. It’s over, Mei. Accept this fact and give yourself to the Prime Mother willingly. If you do, she shall absorb your biomaterial herself, and yo
u shall forevermore be a part of her. Think of it, Mei! You will in essence become the Prime Mother! You will be all powerful… immortal. You shall become a god!”
“Tell her thanks for the offer, but I have a hard enough time as it is being human. I don’t think I’m cut out for godhood.” Kyoto was stalling as she desperately tried to think of a way out of this mess.
The Dardanus was too busy battling Manti to help, and her handblasters would be useless against the Prime Mother or either version of Memory, encased as they both were inside starships. If only there was some way that she could reach Memory, the real Memory, the AI she had been before Hastimukah’s nanoparticles had joined her to the Manti biomaterial in the Janus. If there was some way to separate… And then it came to her. The symphysis.
“Very well, Mei. If you reject the Prime Mother’s offer, she’ll have no choice but to slay the three of you and then see to the destruction of the Dardanus.”
The Prime Mother began to descend toward them, her glossy black eyes seeming to shine with a sinister dark light. Kyoto could feel pressure beginning to build within her head, and for an instant she feared her vacc suit had been breached and she was about to die from explosive decompression. But then she realized what was happening. Like the Prana who were her children, the Prime Mother possessed powerful mental abilities. In other words, she was the biggest and smartest Brain Bug of them all. She wouldn’t have to lay a single one of her stubby limbs on them or release a lethal energy blast. All she’d have to do was think about it hard enough and give a push with her psi power, and they would die, simple as that, without a mark on them. Neat, clean, and deadly. All that would remain was their intact biomaterial to be used in whatever way the Prime Mother saw fit.
The pressure in Kyoto’s head increased to the point of pain, but she did her best to ignore it.