by Hana Starr
“Please stand up?” she said, uncomfortable. He hesitated. “Look, if we’re going to do this, I need you to…” She paused. What did this man seem to be lacking? After a moment, she found the word. “I need you to be confident. In front of your Queen, and with me. You can’t expect me to lead you through all this when I don’t speak your language or know anything about where you live. So, you have to help me while I help you?”
As her words sank in, Dante started nodding. He stood when she finished, and then touched the back of his neck in a sheepish little motion. “I apologize. It is not how things are done where I’m from, but I will make the effort for you.”
Don’t worry, she silently reassured him. Now that she was committed to this, she was quite committed indeed. Simply being there and working on the problem wouldn’t be enough. None of these people would trust her to help –and might very well kill her- if she offended them or their customs. She would learn their ways, and how their things were done, and she would be as respectful as she could when she had to break those rules to save them.
So strange how she was already thinking so far ahead, but she needed to give her brain something to chew over before they even arrived. Two problems came to mind.
“First,” she said, catching his attention as he turned to glance at the large screen on the front wall, “how are you able to talk to me? The one who brought me here couldn’t.”
“Oh,” he said, sounding a little surprised, and then lightly touched his wrist. She glanced down, noticing for the first time the thin band of metal wrapped around his skin. She couldn’t tell how it could be taken off easily, almost like a bird band. “This device is a novelty amongst my people. Well, it was before we could not afford to keep such novelties for pleasure. It is able to listen to a program and decipher the language, and then communicate the translation to the wearer through the vibrations which are part of our language.”
“And then you talk back to me…How? I’m not wearing one.”
“It’s a bit more complicated for that,” he admitted. “They are very complex and delicate instruments. As I said, they were considered novelties and are no longer used for the play that we can’t afford. Very few of us still keep them around. And I was not high enough in stature for one when they first came out. I made mine myself.”
“You made a ‘very complex and delicate instrument’ and you’re the captain of a spaceship? But you weren’t considered important enough to get an original?” Mariella shook her head, and then dropped the issue. She would remember this for later.
Suddenly, a single alarm bleeped. Dante whipped his head around so hard she heard his neck crack. A small part of her took notice of his miles-wide shoulders, the ripple of muscle beneath his odd clothes, and then she snapped back to herself. “What’s going on?” she asked. “Dante?”
“Do not worry,” he said thickly, but she heard a buzzing deep in his throat and realized how agitated he was. His arms shook with tension. “It is only an anomaly.”
“Doesn’t sound like it,” she said, a little annoyed.
“A small group of Mites. They have found us. Do not be alarmed. Just, get against the wall and I will protect you.”
Mariella protested, “Dante,” but just then the door opened and the men –who must have been waiting just outside- poured back in and headed for their computers. All except for one that was, and she couldn’t tell whether he was the one who led her here or not, but he politely grabbed her by the shoulders after stepping around behind her.
“Let go,” she growled, and tried to step forward. To her amazement, despite their apparent submission and reverence towards her, the man resisted. “Dante!” she snapped, and then stopped as he strode away from her without a second glance, and mounted a short ramp up to his circular array of counter and screens.
His face was a hard mask of anger and concentration, and suddenly she realized that he was going to protect her. At least, that was what he thought.
And she thought about how he said the word “females” before, and a slow bit of an idea blossomed in her mind. She shook her head to clear it, though. There would be time for that later. This was important.
The man holding her still suddenly stiffened. Mariella turned her head to follow his gaze, and caught sight of three flickering blips of light on the largest screen.
The Mites?
Chapter Four
He would protect her. Treasured female, brilliant mind, she was the last hope for his people and he would do anything within his power to ensure she arrived home safely.
He reached out to his screen and wordlessly tapped out commands, the camera zooming in on the small gathering of Mites. Part of him wanted to growl with anger, while the rest of him was relieved, in a way. While the nasty bugs were dangerous in any amount, their small number meant he could dispatch them with ease –hopefully before they got too close. What they traded for in size and defense, they made up for in speed.
Of course, that meant his bulkier vessel would be in for a rough time if they got within range. He set his mouth into a grim line and, though he hated to do it, ramped up the ship’s power. Watching their valuable resources being drained into the energy cannon, he felt a niggling sense of urgency crawl up his spine and spin in agitated circles at the nape of his neck.
Such an inconvenience, he thought, and felt the minds of his brethren stirring angrily in agreement. Though he had planned on returning from this voyage having used up minimal fuel –and thus hopefully lessening his punishment- now it seemed as though they would be returning practically empty –and with a single human to balance out the waste.
He sincerely hoped this was the right thing to do, as there wasn’t going to be a chance after this to try again.
If this Mariella failed, it would mean his death. And no one else would attempt another radical solution such as this. The Mites would win.
Focus, he scowled at himself, and glanced down at the screen. Fantastic.
The enemy had caught sight of them. Their little ships had adjusted slightly, the fronts pointed in his direction and accelerating so rapidly now that he could begin to make out the spines at the front and the finned sides, which seemed to swim through space. Comparing their speed and the progress of the charging cannon, he gritted his teeth and anxiously turned up the power a notch more. It would be so incredibly close…
His men were rattling around anxiously at their own screens, either working at the cannon, or aiming, or simply piloting the ship, while others delivered the commands to continue heating up all the fuel. Though his was the ultimate authority, all actions went through a manned system of checks and balances to ensure there were no problems along the way. It was a simple system, though not the fastest.
Of course, the ship’s system hadn’t been updated in years, either…
At least, this seemed to be an unprepared scouting party. Their charging him seemed to be a good indicator that they had no help to summon.
Only dimly was he aware of Mariella in the background, saying things in her human tongue. The bracelet was still translating but she was one voice lost amidst the murmurs of his men, sharing as they did in that buzzing language which was felt more than heard. Their minds were quite connected, as was proper for their colony life, and he smelled their tension and aggravation, just as he knew they could smell and taste his. And as he readied the shot, and the man who controlled the cannon readied with him, he calmed himself to just this moment and felt them calm, too.
Focused, as one, they sent the shot.
It lit up the screen in a burst of blue, streaking through empty space like a comet blasting by. Mariella cried out wordlessly, her alarm apparent even to those who couldn’t understand. Dante gripped his dashboard with white-knuckled fingers, and watched with dark satisfaction as two of the Mite ships dashed sideways, out of the range of the concussive burst as it tore past. The third was not so lucky however, having been unable to see the trajectory of the cannon’s fire from where it was beh
ind its brothers.
The shot landed perfectly.
There was no explosion, no splintering, no dramatics as he had seen from some Earth broadcasts. Where the cannon’s fire hit, a hole merely burned through the front of the craft. That was all that was necessary, as the hull was breached, and the unforgiving lack of atmosphere poured in.
Every Mite on the ship would suffocate.
Good.
Even after just firing the first shot, Dante slammed his fingers back on the control panel to ready the next. Now that the cannons were warmed up, progress went much faster. In less than a minute, the second Mite ship went down. Unfortunately, they were close enough this time that they got to watch the bodies and debris be pulled out into sight by the vacuum of space.
Mariella gasped, shocked and disturbed as the bodies writhed, pining for breath. Dante would have given anything to spare her the sight, though in the back of his mind he knew that she would truly understand the magnitude of the situation now. He hadn’t doubted her before but now?
Yes.
His concentration slipped. One second too slow to press the final button again. And the enemy ship slammed into them. It was a sight to behold, the whole front of the screen devoured by the sight of it. Grey and insectile, he caught a glimpse of the twisted, clacking faces behind the craft’s front window screen in the instant before impact. They were bitter and determined, knowing now their preemptive attack had turned into failure. Their only option, being such a sick people, was suicide.
It was the easy way out, robbing him of satisfaction, and them of any honor they might have gained by dying in true combat.
Of course, it was not easy for the ship.
The impact shook through the whole vessel, knocking his men from their seats and shoving him hard against the wall of his console. Alarms startled bleeping, and an aggravated hum told him very quickly that somewhere their hull had been breached, probably by one of those gigantic spikes on the front of the Mite ship. Mariella was on the floor, with her guard wrapped around her. He was rubbing his head, obviously having taken the brunt of the fall for her.
Focus, he snarled again at his men, and then dragged himself back upright despite the whole of his legacy trying to shake itself to pieces. A few of them managed to stagger upright, and he slapped as many buttons at once as he could, raising an energy field which would seal over the breach. One alarm dropped out, though another one took its place to remind him of just how low power was now. At their current rate, which he assessed with a practiced eye, they would run out just above the planet.
From there, it would be a crash-landing unless he could adjust quickly enough now to save their skins.
It took a bit of adjusting and some rapid figuring, but eventually it worked. Dante brought up a list of every operation on the ship currently draining power, and shut it down. The lights, he cut by half again. The cannon, he cut off. Looking at the atmosphere, he sliced away at the oxygen and other breathable gasses until all of them would just barely stay within consciousness. Another emergency would require more thought, and more breathing, but until then, het let as much drain away as possible.
He did regret getting Mariella involved in this, and knew she would struggle even more than the rest of them, but it was a risk he could have to take.
When it was all over, he slumped back in his chair and heaved a great sigh. Eventually, one of his men wandered over. “What shall we do now?” he voiced worriedly, gesturing.
Dante glanced at his team of twenty-four, the brave souls who unanimously agreed to join him. They had put all their faith in him, and suddenly he was determined not to let them down. He looked up at the man, at his disheveled hair and too-weary face, and gave as much of a smile as he could spare. “Figure it out for yourselves. I will need two of you to stay behind, to continue to pilot the ship, but I want everyone else to shut off their screens. We will rotate positions, save some energy. Everyone else must sleep.”
“Are you sure?” the man asked worriedly.
They were all of them tactical and loyal, but they didn’t know as much as he. Even if they were in leisure, eating or talking quietly, it was still too much waste. If they slept, they would use up less air.
But, he did not say that out loud. He did not say that Mariella breathed very quickly, like all humans, and would tax their systems. He did not say that even her insignificant weight had shifted the balance irreparably. And Dante most certainly did not say that he was afraid they would now never make it home. Furthermore, he kept these thoughts hidden from his men and just kept smiling. “I’m sure.”
They filed out of the room, all of them, even Mariella’s guard. Two stayed to watch their screens, shoulders tense and eyes hazy.
Mariella was doing no better, and he hated to see the glossiness over her sharp mind. “Are you okay?” he asked, leaning over a little to look her in the face.
She frowned at him, and when she spoke her voice was slurred. “I just have one question.”
“Ask anything of me, and I will answer,” he assured her, as was their way.
She squinted a little. “Venus has a day cycle that lasts longer than its year. How is solar energy supposed to help you?”
He knew exactly what she meant, that they could not rely on an energy source which would disappear for nearly as long as it was present. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “And I never said we would use solar power, as you have. I asked for power. That is all. In any form at all.”
Mariella opened her mouth as if to argue, but then her eyes rolled back in her head and she passed out.
Chapter Five
In time, she came to know these people. And she named them, because their words for themselves wouldn’t translate into English. And she came to call their colony the Hive, and she named them Drones, after the male worker bees.
Even at the pace of the ship, it took a few days to reach Venus. That astonished her. Even as sluggish as she felt, with the oxygen just barely enough to satisfy her starving lungs, she sometimes spent hours pestering Dante over questions of technology. Ever the willing host, he sat there and explained things over and over until she understood.
Her frustration at being so miserably inadequate was tempered by a lack of energy to keep up with that feeling, and most of the time she was just miserable. Still, she enjoyed those conversations with the man as he described his reactor engine and the various fuels it ran off, most of which were nuclear reactions of some kind.
And when she wasn’t talking, she was either sleeping back in that private room where she woke up, or staring dully at the screen on the front of the ship. Seeing as how the ship itself had no windows, these screens were the only way to see outside. Most of the time, it was black and shapeless. Dante piloted the ship during those times using some sort of complicated grid system, almost like a GPS which came standard in Earth cars now, but at other times she saw things. Sometimes it was a trick of her bored eyes struggling for something unique to pinpoint, for necessary exercise, but on occasion it was a glimpse of star, a speck of dust.
Mostly though, it was just dark. She should have expected that, seeing as how space was infinitely vast and there were thousands of miles between even the closest of objects, but it was still disappointing.
And she went back and forth over her own convictions, arguing with herself just for the sake of doing something. It was during one of these internal arguments, the day before they were to land –Venus was a mere tannish speck on the screen and absolutely unremarkable as of yet- that Dante actually sought her out for himself for the first time.
Normally, that was the other way around.
It took her a long time to realize that someone sat near her. She was in the command room, currently empty but for Dante at the wheel, and sitting in front of one of the darkened computer screens.
A niggling sensation hit her ears, like an embarrassed blushing, and she looked up to see Dante sat before her, leaning in close.
He hummed a little as h
e spoke. “What are you thinking of right now?”
That humming reminded her of part of the reason she’d named them after bees. It wasn’t just what she’d pieced together of their female-driven society, or the colony as he described it. Surprisingly, it also wasn’t because she sometimes saw the men act in sync with each other and quickly realized that they all seemed to have a connection of sorts. Perhaps it wasn’t telepathy, but they certainly thought the name ways.
In any case, it was comforting to hear him hum so softly and steadily. It meant he wasn’t aggravated about anything and, as a result, neither were any of the others.
“I was just thinking about how you guys can last in a place like this,” she admitted finally. It wasn’t quite a lie, in the way that she certainly sometimes thought about things, but everything else was pure fabrication on the spur of the moment.
Dante’s mouth quirked a bit with amusement. She licked her lips absently, watching him. “What part do you refer to?”