by J. J. Green
As the creature joined the female, the pair did not speak. They had no need, for their minds were one. Only their newly adopted physical forms were separate—a temporary, necessary inconvenience. First, they must bring more humans from the orbiting starship to the structures for absorption. If most of the humans were not consumed and copied, their entity would face dangerous hostilities. They also needed many more copies of humans and other alien species on the physical plain to achieve their final goal.
Outside, the movement of the cold air was brisk and uncomfortable. The creature began to shiver. The other led the way to the vessel that would take them to the starship. The shuttlecraft was small, but it looked well made. An attractive item of technology, and likely to be only one of many more the humans had created. A vista of replication, domination, acquisition, and, ultimately, complete control of this physical expanse opened in the creatures’ shared mind.
It was time for generation to begin.
Chapter Nine
Jas waited, squatting on her heels. When the shuttle had landed, and she’d heard the ramp descend and two sets of footsteps walk down it, then silence. She racked her brains as to what was going on, but none of it made any sense. Two people weren’t enough for an RA team, and the teams weren’t due out until morning anyway. An RA team also wouldn’t go on a trip without equipment. She wondered if Lingiari had taken the shuttle on a whim and flown down with a friend. But he would never have gotten clearance from the flight deck, and even Lingiari wasn’t stupid enough to fly without clearance. He’d be sacked and blacklisted in the industry forever.
Who had the authority to order an unscheduled visit to the planet? Only Loba. But why on Earth would he do it? His was the archetypal hands-off, don’t-bother-me approach.
The circle of light from Jas’ headlamp wobbled on the bare, metallic equipment hold floor as her head shook slightly in perplexity. AX10 remained motionless behind her. With no room to stand up, she crawled toward the door. She swept her headlamp’s rays across the door’s seams. As she expected, there was no way to open it from the inside.
She sat back. She’d come here for a reason. Could she continue as planned, despite the odd circumstances?
“AX10, can you connect to the shuttle’s computer system?”
“Affirmative, C.S.O. Harrington.”
“Tell it to open the hold. You can do that, right?” She didn’t know if the two who had descended the ramp were still around. They’d had enough time to leave the area. If they were still near the shuttle, they might interpret the hold door opening to be a glitch. It was a chance she was prepared to take.
“I can,” said the unit. “Do you want me to do that?”
“Ye—wait.” Jas had worked with defense units long enough to get to know their ways. They were intelligent, but they lacked empathy and theory of mind. It might be necessary for them to kill intelligent, sentient species, and the ability to imagine how another creature was feeling and thinking would make them inefficient. But the units’ mental foibles also meant they struggled to imagine how information available to them might be useful to someone else. Jas had learned that, as a result, they had a kind of fail-safe. They would check an order if they knew something that they suspected might jeopardize the maneuver. “What might I need to know, AX10?”
“We are not traveling in the passenger cabin; therefore, I believe we are hiding. I do not know if the pilot should be aware of our location. If I tell the shuttle’s computer to open the door, it will communicate the action to him.”
“You mean it’ll announce, AX10 is opening the hold door?”
“Affirmative, C.S.O. Harrington.”
Krat. Assuming it was Lingiari who’d flown the shuttle—she didn’t think the main pilot, Grantwise, would agree to such an unorthodox trip—he might still be aboard. She didn’t want to get Lingiari in trouble, but on the other hand, if she couldn’t get out and look around, the safety of the entire crew might be at stake. Also, once Lingiari knew he had a defense unit on board, he might guess she was accompanying it and not come into the hold with weapons blazing.
“Okay, AX10, go for it. Tell the shuttle to open the hold door.”
A moment later, with a clunk and a judder, the door swung up. Gray light filled the hold. An ocean moved outside, waves sweeping the shore. Jas opened her visor to make it easier for Lingiari to recognize her. A tangy odor accompanied the chill breeze from the water. Pale stars winked in the pre-dawn light.
Slow, heavy footsteps came down the ramp. He was taking his time. Jas rolled her eyes. If Lingiari’s hold were filled with murderous aliens, they would have killed him three minutes ago. She would have to upgrade the crew’s combat training. A man’s lanky figure came into view, silhouetted against the sky, his hand gripping a small weapon.
“Lingiari,” Jas whispered, just loud enough to be heard above the ocean, “it’s me.”
“Harrington?” The pilot’s broad, honest features became visible and brightened as he stepped closer. “What the hell?”
She climbed out and jumped down from the hold. “Shhh...is anyone else around?”
“No. Loba and the geo-phys woman left ten minutes ago.”
“So it is Loba. And he’s with Margret?”
“No, Pasha, or Sasha. I can’t remember her name.”
“There’s only one woman with geo-phys, and her name’s Margret Stratton.”
“Oh, in that case, yeah, Margret. They’re tagging up over there somewhere.” He waved toward the dunes, a disappointed look on his face.
“Loba and Margret? BF.”
“Yeah, they are. Why else would Loba make me fly them down?”
“Lingiari, were you born on Balgamon? Loba probably hasn’t raised the flag in years. That’s the first thing to go when you’re running the blood.”
The pilot’s eyes widened. “Glad I never tried it.” He looked at her intently. “No myth’s affected my ability. Everything’s working fine down there.”
Jas frowned. Why was he telling her that? He had a weird look on his face.
Lingiari continued, “So Loba let you out your cabin?”
“Not exactly. I snuck out and stowed away so I could check out the planet some more. There’s something not right here. I have to find out what it is.”
Lingiari rubbed his head. “You mean you’re still confined to quarters?”
“Yeah. You won’t say anything, will you?”
The pilot hesitated, then said, “No, ’course not. I won’t dob on you. I’ve always liked you, Harrington.”
There was that weird look again.
“Err...thanks, Lingiari. You said they went over there?”
“Yeah. They didn’t say when they’d be back, but I hope it’s soon. I need to get back to the ship and pick up the RA team. It’ll be daylight in a couple of hours.”
“I’m going to see what I can find. Don’t take off without me, okay? Can you scan the hold for life forms?” The copilot nodded. “Good. Check we’re on board before you take off. I’ll try to get back before Loba and Margret.”
Telling AX10 to follow, Jas set off at a lope toward the dunes. Following the direction Lingiari had indicated, Jas scrambled upward, slipping on the stones and sand. As her head crowned the rise she was greeted by the sight she’d feared. About a kilometer away was one of the hexagonal structures. It was no surprise. They were dotted across all the planet’s landmasses. The ship’s scanners had even detected a few on the ocean floor. She was sure it was in the structures that the danger lay, whatever it was.
Loba and Margret were nowhere to be seen, which meant they must have gone inside. She couldn’t follow them into the building. If Loba saw her, it would all be over.
She debated returning to the shuttle and waiting for Loba and Margret to return, but there was no rush. She would have plenty of time to get back as soon as she spotted them. She decided to observe the landscape while she was there. After pulling down her visor, she activated its zoom and checked her surr
oundings in detail.
Lingiari was walking up and down the shoreline, his hands in his pockets, kicking the sand. Beyond him, a group of small creatures briefly lifted out of the ocean waves. Nearby, slime molds inched along among the rough dune plants. AX10 was squatting, still and silent, awaiting his next order.
After more than an hour’s observation, Jas concluded there seemed nothing threatening outside the artificial structure. Her bored gaze returned to it. Why had Margret taken Loba there? Had she discovered the threat and wanted to show him personally?
The approaching sun gilded the horizon. Movement at an opening in the building made her freeze. The swiftly rising sun’s beams illuminated two figures emerging. Loba and Margret. They’d done whatever they’d come to do and were returning to the shuttle.
Jas watched them approach. Lingiari’s theory that the two were tagging up was ridiculous. And they certainly didn’t behave like a couple in love, or lust. They were walking a short distance apart and not even looking at each other. They also didn’t appear to be talking.
Something was weird about their gait. It was familiar, but it didn’t look right. For a moment, Jas couldn’t figure out what it was, then it came to her. They were walking like defense units. Their steps were almost mechanical, and they were facing consistently forward with no interest in what was around them. She watched them as they covered nearly the whole distance to the dunes, but their behavior didn’t change.
Frowning, Jas took one last look before slipping back to the shuttle.
Chapter Ten
Navigator Sayen Lee straightened her pillow and smoothed the covers on her bunk until they were free of folds and creases. She felt a little queasy. Was she coming down with a stomach virus? Or was it food poisoning? She’d had the Asiatic option for breakfast: congee, pickled vegetables, steamed bun and soy milk. The pickled cabbage had tasted a little strange. She wouldn’t be surprised if the chief steward cut corners when it came to food hygiene, under pressure from the master to save money.
Sitting down at her desk, Sayen said, “Open interface,” and the entire desk surface became a screen filled with numbers and mathematical characters. Sayen was about halfway through the calculations for the next starjump on the Galathea’s schedule. She didn’t actually need to do the calculation herself. The ship’s computer would do it, but she figured it out herself every time anyway, for relaxation. Her result always matched the computer’s.
Her math professor at college had seen her doing a starjump calculation one day, and after looking over her shoulder for a few minutes had asked her what it was. When Sayen explained, the woman laughed and told her not to be ridiculous; that the computation was beyond the ability of a single human being and it would take years to work it out.
Sayen had shrugged and said she’d figured out a few short cuts. The professor had smiled condescendingly and replied, “Yes, of course you have,” before walking away, shaking her head and laughing.
It hadn’t mattered to Sayen then that her professor didn’t believe her, and it didn’t matter now. On the rare occasions she’d been the center of attention, she’d felt uncomfortable. She had no incentive in broadcasting her abilities; she was content to use them as necessary to secure a high-paying job, but no more.
Sayen studied the calculation and worked on it for some time before she realized that she was due on the flight deck soon. Closing the screen, she stood and faced a wall of her cabin. “Mirror.” The wall became reflective and displayed an image of a petite woman with short, blonde, razor-cut hair, wearing an immaculate Polestar uniform. She checked her clothes for spots and lint, turning and looking over her shoulder to see the reflection of her back.
Sayen’s stomach churned a little, and she put a hand to it. She would have to pay Dr. Sparks a short visit before her shift started. She still had time if she hurried. She had one last thing to do before leaving her cabin, however: the final stage of her morning routine.
She went into her shower room to wash her hands, but as she passed through the door, she remembered she’d run out of hand sanitizer. Her face fell. What was she going to do? She always washed her hands before going to work. Always. But the last time she’d asked the chief steward for an extra bottle of sanitizer he’d told her that was the last one she was allowed.
There was nothing else she could do, she would just have to skip visiting the doctor and go see the chief steward instead. He had to give her some more sanitizer. He had to.
She stepped out of her cabin in a hurry and walked straight into Lingiari, the copilot. The two collided. Lingiari was barely affected by the impact, but Sayen bounced off the rangy man and nearly fell down. At the same time, Lingiari gave a great sneeze, showering Sayen in a spittle spray.
“Oughh,” she exclaimed, wrinkling her nose. “That’s disgusting.” She wiped her face with her hands and looked down at her uniform.
“Sorry,” said the copilot. “I wasn’t expecting you to pop out like that.”
Sayen backed away, wiping her hair and each hand in turn. “Do you have a cold? Don’t tell me you have a cold.”
“I don’t think so, I just...got a bit...” He gestured behind him in the direction of the shuttle bay. He appeared to be about to say something, then changed his mind. “I don’t think I’ve got a cold.”
“Oughh.” Sayen gave a slight shudder and went around Lingiari, giving him a very wide berth.
The chief steward’s office was on the other side of the ship. She would have to hurry if she wasn’t going to be late for her shift. She quickly turned a corner, but stopped. Harrington was coming toward her. C.S.O. Harrington, who was supposed to be confined to her cabin. The security officer was racing down the corridor.
“What are you—” asked Sayen.
“Shhh,” hissed Harrington as she passed by, “don’t tell anyone. Please don’t, and I promise if you ever need protecting from aliens, I’ll be right there.”
“Oh, I...okay,” she said to the security officer’s retreating figure.
Today was turning out to be odd. But she didn’t have time to figure out what was going on. She had to get to the chief steward. Fifteen minutes later, panting, she pressed his door chime.
“Who is it?” came the man’s voice over the intercom.
“Sayen Lee.”
There was a sigh of exasperation. “What is it this time? Disinfectant? Polish? Sanitizer?”
“That’s it. I need some more sanitizer. I know you—”
“No. I’ve already told you. No more. Use the UV box like everyone else. Sanitizer is redundant and outdated. That’s why we—”
“But I really need it. If no one else—”
“No.”
“But—”
“No.”
The light on the intercom went out. The chief steward had turned it off.
Panic rose in Sayen’s throat. She had to wash her hands. A disaster would happen if she didn’t. What kind of disaster, she didn’t know, but it would be something really bad.
Sayen went back the way she’d come. Where could she get some hand sanitizer? The communal restrooms didn’t have any. They only had UV boxes. And what good were they? On one level she knew they were the most efficient way of killing germs, but she didn’t feel right using them; she didn’t feel hygienic. She needed that reassurance of spreading sanitizer all over her hands and the tingle of it evaporating.
The corridors were filling with crew members on their way to their workstations. Maybe one of them could help? There had to be someone else on board who still liked to use hand sanitizer. She stopped and scanned the faces as they passed. At last, she saw someone who might be able to help—Sayen had introduced herself only the day before as the woman had seemed lonely—though now she didn’t seem to have noticed her.
“Hi. It’s Margret, right?” asked Sayen as the geo-phys scientist had almost passed by. When she didn’t stop, Sayen grabbed her arm. Margret turned slowly, as if she were in a trance or deep in thought.
“Hand sanitizer,” echoed Margret.
“Yes, do you have any?”
“No, I don’t have hand sanitizer.”
Sayen peered into Margret’s face. Her expression was blank. “Are you feeling okay?”
Margret didn’t reply, but began to walk away. Sayen followed her. “Are you sure you don’t have any? Could you check? Hey, I think your cabin’s this way,” she said as Margret took a wrong turn into the storage section. Something was definitely wrong with her. She would have to tell Dr. Sparks. After grabbing the woman’s hand, she led her the right way.
They arrived at Margret’s cabin. As soon as they were through the door, Sayen went into the shower room. Her heart leapt. There it was, on the side of the basin: a nearly full bottle.
Chapter Eleven
Jas’ cabin walls seemed to close around her after she returned from stowing away on the shuttle. The few hours’ freedom had been a welcome break from confinement, despite the deeply worrying revelation that the master of the Galathea was now compromised.
Both Loba and Margret had been acting as if they were in a kind of trance. There was no doubt in Jas’ mind that something was within the artificial structures on K. 67092d, something neither she nor the defense units had spotted in all the LIVs they’d conducted. What they’d missed was still a mystery, but as far as she was concerned, her initial suspicions had been vindicated. The problem was, she was the only person aboard who understood that at least two crew members had been infected by an alien organism, and that the rest of them were in danger. Though Lingiari had acknowledged something wasn’t right, he hadn’t been convinced the threat was serious enough to raise an alarm.