CROSS FIRE

by Fonda Lee

  “Yeah.” Jet grimaced. “Gur’s blaming Soldier Werth for this. He says the erze hasn’t conditioned and disciplined us properly. We’re being confined to three human neighborhoods so Gur’s Soldiers can keep tabs on us. The zhree zun are meeting right now, deciding what to do.”

  Nurse Therrid handed Donovan a screen with an inserted data storage stick. “That contains Ghosh’s original research, appended with all the details of the procedure I performed on you. I’ve converted it off my computing disc into formats that can be translated into human text, including instructions that any competent human medical expert should be able to follow.” The Nurse’s opaque eyes were somber. He clasped Donovan’s hand in his pincers tightly. “I’ve sent Sanjay to gather some supplies for you both. Vercingetorix is right—you need to leave the Round right away, and for good. Take refuge with other humans and keep this information safe until all the Soldiers have left.”

  Perhaps the sedatives were lingering in Donovan’s blood, or he simply hadn’t given enough thought as to what would happen after he accomplished his goal, because he felt as if he was struggling to catch up to Jet and Therrid. “Leave the Round? Why?”

  Jet was pacing, but he stopped to stare at Donovan in disbelief. “Did you hear anything I just said? Gur is already furious that humans are defying the homeworld’s agenda and he’s holding Soldier Werth accountable. You just broke the pact that the Mur colonists have had with Kreet for a hundred years. How do you think that’ll go over right now?” A muscle twitched in Jet’s cheek. “What do you think is going to happen if they catch you?”

  Donovan put a hand out to steady himself against a wall. Oath and erze, Jet was right. His actions were going to bring down consequences on many others besides himself. “What about you, zun Therrid?” he asked in alarm. “What will happen to you, once they find out what you’ve done?”

  Therrid was repositioning the scanner and checking the calibrations on the radiosurgery machine. “Don’t worry about me, hatchling,” he said, but his voice sounded forced and his armor thickened heavily over the swirling markings on his hull.

  A sound out in the hallway: the rapid beat of zhree footsteps.

  Therrid’s fins shot up and he froze in mid-motion. “You have to get out of here, now.” He grabbed Jet’s arm with one limb and Donovan with another, pulling them both toward the door and throwing it open. Therrid skidded to a halt and backpedaled with a whistled profanity. From the hall, three Soldiers with Gur’s markings advanced into the room.

  Commander Tate strode up between them, her expression deeply pained. “Reyes, what have you done?”

  The sight of the armed and battle-armored foreign Soldiers woke Donovan’s exocel like a shock. Panotin sprang over his body with almost painful abruptness. Jet too went to full armor, hand twitching for his sidearm.

  “Stay where you are!” Commander Tate barked.

  “Disarm them,” one of the Soldiers said to the others. In seconds, Donovan and Jet were relieved of their duty guns. The Soldiers also took the screen Donovan held in his hand. The lead Soldier had wide fins and one slightly milky eye. He focused his attention on Therrid. “Nurse, explain this,” he demanded. “Are you not aware that humans are no longer permitted outside of designated areas?”

  All six of Therrid’s eyes were fearfully wide, but his fins snapped as he spoke. “These humans needed medical care. Isn’t there an exception for that?”

  The Soldier on the left—the largest of the three—crossed the room, seized Therrid by his fins, and twisted. The Nurse let out a shrill whistle of pain and his limbs buckled. The Soldier’s voice vibrated derisively as he forced the smaller zhree toward the ground. “We didn’t travel erze knows how many light-years to this worthless ball of dirt in the middle of nowhere to be condescended to by a Nurse from the colonies.”

  Donovan and Jet moved in unison before either of them could think properly, grabbing the Soldier by the torso and shoving him back violently. The homeworlder let go of Therrid and stumbled backward with a whistle of surprise.

  The distinctive click-buzz of primed electripulse coils sounded as Gur’s Soldiers swung up their weapons. “NO!” Commander Tate placed herself between the zhree and their targets, arms held wide, her face livid. “You dare fire on soldiers of another erze?”

  “You’re not Soldiers.” The third zhree, a youngster judging from the unblemished smoothness of his hull, had his weapon pointed at Tate’s chest.

  “We have Soldier’s markings. Another Soldier’s markings.” Tate’s voice was edged with suppressed fury. The portable translation machine strapped to one of the lead Soldier’s limbs relayed her words in Mur.

  A moment of considered stalemate; then the wide-finned Soldier in charge grudgingly lowered his weapon and spoke to the others. “It’s true; these humans aren’t ours to dispense with.” Matters of discipline and punishment were always handled within an erze. “We’ll bring all of them, including the Nurse, to the zun master. He’ll sort it out with the colonials.”

  “They attacked me,” protested the large one who’d grabbed Therrid. “So much for the colonials insisting that their creatures aren’t dangerous.”

  “You provoked them! They were only defending me.” The stuttering movement of Therrid’s injured fins made his voice seem slurred.

  “Gorm, look at that one.” The youngest Soldier pointed. Only then did Donovan realize that he was the sole human still fully armored. Jet was half-crouched, his hands clenched, but his exocel completely down. Commander Tate’s armor wavered precariously as she continued to face down the Soldiers. But Donovan remained in full battle armor, the bladed ridges along his arms continuing to rise warily even as he stood frozen, one arm held extended in front of Therrid, his heart pounding like a fist against the inside of his rib cage.

  “Donovan,” Nurse Therrid whispered. “It worked.”

  “Reyes.” Tate did not turn her head, but her voice was an icy warning. “Armor down.”

  Forcing a deep, shaky breath, Donovan lowered his armor. As soon as he did, he felt light-headed. With a burst of adrenaline, he’d pushed his weakened and drugged exocel too quickly and too far and now the skin of his back shivered with cold sweat. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was that he’d done it—he’d armored against Soldiers. Despite everything, he shot a look of triumph at Jet. His partner stared back, looking ill with dread.

  Soldier Gorm circled around Donovan, fins held flat in suspicion. Then, slowly, Gorm walked around the operating room, examining the machinery and tapping a set of pincers together thoughtfully, his milky eye remaining fixed on the humans.

  “How did they find us?” Jet hissed.

  “You can thank your partner for that, Mathews,” Tate replied over her shoulder, moving her lips very slightly. “I seem to recall that I ordered you to alert me on a secure line as soon as you found him.”

  “I was prevented from doing so, ma’am.”

  Tate’s eyes followed Gorm around the room as she continued to speak quietly. “Reyes, I’m not even going to begin to guess how you ended up with Kevin Warde and a tray of chemical weapons in a pickup truck, but the ‘present’ you left for me couldn’t hate you more. As soon as we took the tape off his mouth, he was quick to tell us where you were headed. Unfortunately, as you can see, Gur’s Soldiers now monitor all my communications and accompany my every move. They knew the second that I did.”

  Donovan winced. Leave it to Kevin to be the bane of his existence even while bound hand and foot. Soldier Gorm was peering at the screen displaying Donovan’s recent brain scans. He picked up Therrid’s computing disc and examined its contents, his eyes and fins perfectly still. The slightly milky eye continued staring at Donovan with unsettling interest.

  Gorm lowered the computing disc but hung onto it as he strode forward decisively and raised his voice. “Keep your armor down, humans, and move slowly where we tell you. That goes for you as well, Nurse. It’s up to Soldier Gur to decide your fate, but if you offer
any further resistance along the way, we won’t hesitate to harm you.”

  The large Soldier asked, “What is it, Gorm? What did you find?”

  Gorm’s pincers jabbed Donovan in the back. “Treason.”

  The inside of the Comm Hub building was barely recognizable. All the furniture was gone. The translucent flex screens newly mounted on the walls displayed star charts and ship rosters and lists too complicated for Donovan to make any sense of. The lobby echoed with the mingling of musical voices and the sound of many armored feet on the hard floor. Gur’s Soldiers escorted Commander Tate, Donovan, Jet, and Nurse Therrid inside and the noise fell as dozens of nearby yellow eyes paused to watch them. There didn’t seem to be any other humans present. Donovan had been in this building countless times since he’d put on the SecPac uniform, but now he felt like an intruder. He could only imagine what it must be like for Commander Tate, to be led like a prisoner into her own seat of command.

  The hall where Tate had presided over hundreds of briefings had been turned into Soldier Gur’s chambers. Donovan’s guards prodded the group inside, where they stood waiting at the periphery of the room. The chairs that used to be lined up in rows were gone, as was Tate’s podium, the wall screen, the water dispenser—all the human things. Now a mobile, semicircular standing workstation, not unlike the one Soldier Werth had in his quarters in the barracks, stood in the corner. More flex screens displaying shifting information covered the walls.

  In the center of the room, Soldier Gur was holding a conference. Half a dozen of his top Soldiers surrounded him. Wedged between two large striped bodies was Administrator Seir, the only zhree from Earth still standing in a position of status. In a ring behind the inner circle stood the rest of the zhree zun, including Soldier Werth, who appeared so motionless he might have been carved from stone. In the third, outermost ring, stood the remaining colonial zhree who’d been allowed to attend—two dozen of Werth’s Soldiers, Seir’s Administrators, a few Scientists and Engineers. All in all, there were perhaps fifty zhree present. Donovan wondered where the rest of Werth’s Soldiers were, until he caught the tail end of the conversation Gur was having with one of his subordinates.

  “The majority of the colonial troops have now been transferred to orbital staging areas, zun,” said the Soldier. “We’re ready to initiate light-plus transfers at your command. The sooner we begin, the better. Morale among the colonial Soldiers is worsening by the day. It would be best to reintegrate their erze with the homeworld fleet as soon as possible.”

  “Of course their morale is low,” Soldier Gur said matter-of-factly. “An erze relies on the leadership of the zun. With their erze master still on Earth and apparently unwilling to cooperate, they are understandably adrift.”

  Admistrator Seir and several other colonial zhree shifted their fins uncomfortably. In the outer ring, Werth’s Soldiers bristled, but Werth remained unmoving. Soldier Gur went on as if he hadn’t noticed anything. “How quickly we can begin the transfers will depend on when we can complete the first stage of human evacuations.” Soldier Gur’s gaze slid over the domed bodies around him, over to the entrance where Commander Tate could not help but tower over the room full of zhree. “Perhaps we will find out now whether that will be a smooth process or a difficult one.” Gur raised one limb and motioned.

  Immediately, the rings parted to open a wedge for Donovan’s guards to escort their captives forward. Commander Tate went first. When she stood before Gur, she dropped her armor, but only briefly. A nod, nothing more.

  Gur tilted back slightly so that he could better regard the tall human in front of him. “Have you reconsidered your position, then?”

  “No,” Tate said. “We still refuse any evacuation from Earth.”

  Gur’s fins flattened in severe displeasure as the translation machine relayed Tate’s words. “Then why are you here, disrupting these discussions?”

  Soldier Gorm pulled Nurse Therrid forward. “Zun, we apprehended these three humans along with this Nurse in violation of restrictions at a human medical facility. They appeared to be conspiring in tampering with human exocels. We found this in the room.” Gorm handed over Therrid’s computing disc.

  Soldier Gur held the disc up to one eye and scrolled the display skeptically. When he lowered the device, Gur turned his gaze on Nurse Therrid, whose fins trembled under the Soldier’s weighty attention. “Nurse, what sort of medical procedure were you performing on these humans?”

  Donovan couldn’t bear it. Therrid was going to be punished, maybe even exiled or executed, because of him. “I forced him to do it,” Donovan blurted. “I made him cut the reflex that cripples our exocels against zhree.”

  Jet’s armored fingers dug into Donovan’s left shoulder. “Shut up.”

  “Donovan—” Therrid protested.

  “It’s true.” The large Soldier who’d twisted Therrid’s fins clamped his pincers around the back of Donovan’s neck and dragged him forward roughly. Donovan gritted his teeth as he was forced to his knees before Gur. “This human battle-armored and attacked me. The colonials are lying about these creatures.”

  Shocked and angry musical murmuring broke out in the room. “That’s not true! You—you’re—” Therrid could barely speak from helpless anger.

  “Enough.” Soldier Gur banged one foot on the floor. “Am I to understand,” he said with incredulity, staring at Donovan, “that this human has been altered to enable it to commit acts of violence against zhree?”

  Silence fell hard. Then Gur’s fins slashed through the air as he erupted in a string of musical fury. “I believed I’d seen the height of colonial conceit and lunacy, but I was wrong. Administrator Seir! How do you explain this?”

  “I don’t have an explanation, zun Gur.” Administrator Seir stepped forward uncertainly. “It appears as if humans have unraveled one of the aspects of their exocellular technology and some have taken it upon themselves to act on that knowledge.”

  “Do you expect me to believe that?” Gur whistled in scorn. “You’re suggesting that humans took the initiative of disabling a feature of their exocels, all on their own? That they didn’t have help from colonials intent on undermining the authority of the Homeworld Council?” Gur’s fins vibrated with blustering indignation. “The evidence is here: This Nurse performed the procedure. These humans answer to an erze master. Werth!”

  Soldier Werth stepped forward from the second ring back. The other zhree shifted away, opening a column of space between him and Gur.

  “Do you know why the Homeworld Council rejected your plan to further support the colony with more Hardened humans? Why they sent me here to oversee the withdrawal from this planet?” Gur’s short, thick fins snapped and his voice rose in heated accusation, but Werth stood silently, his expression betraying nothing as the other Soldier raged. “The High Speaker was deeply concerned that the Earth-born erze zun had become too separated from Kreet, that your armor had grown soft, your perspective warped. If we granted you permission to create millions more Hardened humans, exos under your control who would answer to you and no other authority, what was to prevent you from one day removing your lauded fail-safe and turning these humans into an army?” Gur straightened to his full height and his Soldiers flanked him. “Now I see that the Council was right to be suspicious all along.”

  Soldier Werth spoke at last. “I can assure you of one thing, Soldier Gur. The humans in my erze are hardly acting with my interests in mind right now.”

  An odd guilt gripped Donovan’s insides. “I didn’t act for or against anyone in this room,” he insisted. “This was for us. For humans.” For the exos who were too old or young or injured or who simply didn’t make the cutoff, the marked people with nowhere to turn, the billions of squishies like Anya who didn’t even figure as a shadow of a thought in Gur’s calculations.

  “Listen to him!” Jet exclaimed. “Don’t you understand? This isn’t a conspiracy; all we want is the chance to defend ourselves against the Rii and you won’t giv
e it to us. You’re the ones forcing us out of erze.”

  Their words seemed to go unnoticed. All of the zhree in the room were now muttering in a tense, undulating hum. Werth’s Soldiers and Gur’s Soldiers were shifting, eyeing each other, fins stiff and armor thick on their hulls. The other zhree around them were shuffling nervously. Donovan had never seen a perfectly orderly zhree speaking circle come apart in such a way.

  “I will have to report to the High Speaker that matters on this planet are even more fundamentally out of erze than I’d feared,” Gur intoned.

  “Soldier Gur.” Administrator Seir’s tone was forcefully reasonable, but an edge of anger made his melodic voice tinny. “We have cooperated fully with all of the Homeworld Council’s decisions. Out of the supposed best interests of the Commonwealth, we are abandoning this colony we so laboriously developed, a planet where many of us were hatched. For you to now accuse us of gross treachery based on the isolated actions of a few humans—”

  Gur cut him off. “This was not done by humans. Nurse Thet!”

  Therrid’s erze master came forward reluctantly. Gur declared, “A member of your erze has broken the long-standing agreement between Earth and Kreet regarding the use of exocellular biotechnology on other species.”

  Nurse Thet said, “That particular Nurse has always been a little strange, zun. Socially awkward and overly interested in humans ever since he was a hatchling.” Nurse Therrid’s fins drooped in humiliation at his erze master’s words, and Donovan very much wanted to punch Nurse Thet in all six eyes.

  “Such criminally out-of-erze behavior indicates a deviant personality that cannot be rehabilitated,” Gur said. “I expect you to act as a proper zun and remove him from your erze.”

  Therrid let out a barely audible humming moan.