by P. R. Adams
The creature jerked and twisted.
Most of the rounds did little more than chip at the carapace, but enough hit that a few found vulnerable points—the antennae, leg joints, even the neck. Clear, metallic-smelling ichor gushed from dozens of wounds until, finally, the twitching slowed, and the gunfire stopped.
Rimes got to his feet, grunting and wheezing. He swapped out the carbine’s magazine—his last—and made his way over to Kershaw’s body. He closed Kershaw’s eyes and gave him a respectful pat on the chest before retrieving a spare magazine from a leg pouch.
Several seconds passed, then Rimes slowly turned to look at his rescuers.
“You should be careful to keep your weapon pointed down, Captain.” The speaker wore the same lightly armored outfit most of the genies had worn, absent a helmet. He was taller than Rimes, with curiously pale and soft features—gray eyes, white hair, pink skin. He had a pleasant smile on his face. Several genies stood behind him, Andrea at the front.
“I’ve been looking forward to this for quite some time,” the pale man said around a hyena smile.
42
30 October, 2167. Fourth planet of the COROT-7 system.
* * *
IN THE LIGHT of a dozen belt-fastened lamps, the pale genie’s gray eyes twinkled with delight. That delight was less evident in his stub nose and puffy lips that looked as if they’d been fresh-squeezed from a tube of protein paste. The genie seemed far too fresh and invigorated for someone who had endured the desert chase. Even the genies arrayed behind Andrea—many of them elite physical specimens like her—looked the worse for wear; several looked close to collapse.
But not the pale genie. His white hair was brushed back, as if he’d just stepped out of a styling booth.
Salty sweat tickled Rimes’s lips, mingling with the ubiquitous sweet water that leaked from the fungus. And there was something bitter and metallic on his lips, too. It matched the smell coming off the dead bug, the ichor leaking from its ruined corpse.
He ran the back of a hand across his face.
More than the tastes and the smell, though, Rimes felt something surprising: the strange distraction, the sense of disconnectedness that he’d become aware of since at least the moment he’d reached the Commando shuttle. It was still with him, despite the creature’s death.
“Captain Rimes, please do put away your gun.” The white-haired genie seemed happy to see Rimes, as if they were old friends reunited after too long apart. “We are not, for the moment, your enemy. Nor was that unfortunate creature, I’m afraid. It was a tool used by a greater power. Our people have all been tools used by a greater power.”
Rimes looked from Andrea to the white-haired man. “You’re a telepath? A pusher? You touched that thing’s mind?”
“It is, indeed, one of my gifts.” The hyena smile returned—all teeth, framed by shapeless lips drawn thin. “My name is Jonathan Duke. You’ve met Andrea. My compatriots would prefer I not give you their names. Although they respect you, you have killed several of their friends. That’s the sort of thing they take personally.”
No fast moves. You’re alive for a reason. “If that wasn’t the enemy, what is?”
“That I don’t know. But I can sense its presence, and it is nearby. It is staggeringly powerful. We did all we could to prevent your people falling under its sway, but you…you are a persistent sort.”
Prevent us from falling under its sway? So you’re not above outright deception. That’s good to know. “And it’s only here? In this…nest?”
“I would hesitate to characterize it as a ‘nest’. There is the distinct sensation that it has been here for a very long time, and not of its own will; prisoner would best describe it. Captivity does not seem to be something it fancies.”
Rimes walked around the creature, wary of its intermittently twitching legs, to get to the plastic-like strip on its carapace. A bullet had cracked the strip, revealing what looked like thin layers of material with reflective lines etched on them.
He tried to pry the strip off the carapace, but it was solidly bonded.
“This thing’s not natural. It looks like it was grown into the carapace.”
“It had a simple mind.” Duke stroked his chin and looked at Rimes meaningfully. “Given its similarities to the ant skull you found and its own muddled thoughts, I would guess it was a servant for those it eventually preyed upon.”
Rimes turned suddenly, looking Duke in the eye, then glanced around, spotted the ant skull. It was just at the edge of his lamp’s reach. The genies were too far back to have seen it. They couldn’t possibly have known about it.
Mischief played across Duke’s face, and the twinkle in his gray eyes grew brighter. Yes, Captain Rimes, I can touch your mind. Not without some effort, and not with the efficacy to which I am accustomed, but I can touch it. Your reputation is well-earned.
Rimes shifted slowly, careful not to appear threatening. “Perditori told me he couldn’t touch my mind?”
“A matter of circumstance.” Duke closed his eyes slightly and tapped his forehead with the hand that had been stroking his chin. “The interference we’re all experiencing here makes it even harder, but as I said, it is possible. Rest assured it is not my priority. My efforts are directed at keeping us working as a team.”
What is it with these telepaths? Are they all so smug? “The…interference, what’s been affecting our minds—”
“Yes. It has produced erratic behavior in all of us. Even I have to maintain a constant vigil against its influence. It can be ever so subtle.”
Rimes scuffed his right boot across the floor. “You’ve seen this fungus?”
“We are not blind, Captain.”
Definitely smug. “Could it be the source of the interference? It doesn’t seem to be able to grow beyond the walls of this structure. Maybe the crater was created to prevent it from expanding? My team and I discussed it. It seems to have trouble breaking down the materials used to construct this place, but not much else.”
“A fungus with such capabilities?” Duke shrugged dismissively. His face clouded momentarily. “It is possible, I suppose. We don’t have the luxury of seeing things through limited perspectives. However, I don’t believe it is what we seek. The few times I have been able to get beyond the source’s defenses, I’ve come away with the sense of otherness that speaks to something created rather than natural. A construct, if you will.”
“A construct? Something engineered?”
“With a specific purpose, yes.” Duke was excited.
“What purpose?”
“You’ve already seen it, I would think?” Duke indicated the pit with a theatrical sweep of his hand. “Your Commando friends? The Tesla crew? Your comrades?”
“A weapon?” Rimes sensed he already knew the answer. “Conquest? Destruction?”
“You deny what you know.” Duke smirked derisively. “Intriguing, wouldn’t you say? How long have we been among the stars without yet encountering another living intelligent species? Given the number of worlds capable of supporting life as we know it, given the remains encountered, you would think we would have at least seen something with one of the hundreds of probes we have traveling through space, wouldn’t you? It makes so much more sense the universe is quiet, though, if you assume a natural inclination toward self-destruction, or at least a hardwired instinct to jettison the old and make way for the new? No orderly transition, either. Measured against the life of the galaxy, it is less than the flip of a switch.”
Rimes frowned. There was nothing in Duke’s words to refute. Only a fool could ignore humanity’s errors and travesties, generally born of arrogant certainty, but easily argued as self-destructive. How can it be any less foolish to project that onto every other species?
Finally, he decided the reasoning didn’t matter as much as the intent behind it. He looked at the genies. Fourteen of them counting Duke. And Andrea. They were armed and ready.
He had no chance against them. “You came here
to seize it?”
Duke shook his head, disappointed. “No. I had hoped you might understand we do not carry your people’s desire for conquest and destruction.”
Rimes gave an exasperated sigh. “You have an odd way of showing your superiority. How many thousands have you killed so far?”
“I would have thought Andrea would have explained our desires to you by now? We only seek freedom and escape, something you refused to give us.” Duke became agitated, annoyed. His pasty brow wrinkled, and his face turned red. Some of the genies shifted their grips on their weapons. “When you want something that is rightfully yours, that is fundamentally yours, if it is kept away from you, you take it. Your people refused us our rights despite our efforts to gain them through civil means. Ask your own poor what comes after civility is rebuffed. Ask their victims if they still value their material excess with so much blood spilled. So much violence threatening to boil over, all of it your creation.”
Rimes took calming breaths for several quiet seconds. “So you’re here to destroy it?”
“If we did anything else, you know what would become of it. Look no further than the Tesla. You fancy my people the easy villain. We have faces. We have taken actions easily portrayed as abhorrent. The requisite fury to justify the cost of war can be manufactured from images and speeches. The message can be crafted from fear and doubt—kill or be killed. Survival is the single greatest motivator for your kind. And it blinds you to the reality right in front of you. As I said, we are not your enemies, not by choice. You have made us so.”
“So who is the enemy?” Rimes already knew Duke’s answer.
“Why would ADMP send the Tesla here, Captain? Why would they send the Erikson? Why would they hide the evidence of this crater? They have known about this structure for years. They had no concept of the threat it poses, but they were willing to risk the lives of their own people to claim whatever it was for themselves. I have seen their data, what they had aboard the Erikson. They assumed this structure held a weapon of some sort, and they lusted after that weapon. Such irresponsibility and hubris should trouble even a loyal soldier like you.
“The metacorporations provided a good deal of funding for your military venture, after all, and for some time they’ve played a significant role in portraying us as petulant, betraying, cold-blooded, murderous children. All while treating us as property, murdering us by the hundreds, eliminating ‘disappointments’. Life is so precious, but not ours. Not. Ours.”
Rimes closed his eyes. After so long without sleep and pushing himself too hard, he wasn’t operating at full capacity. He realized he was more vulnerable to manipulation at that moment than normal. Whatever was inside the structure—the fungus or Duke’s construct—had been pushing Rimes for a while. Realistically, he knew that only a few alternatives existed. He could join Duke’s effort to destroy the construct, or die fighting the genies. Sitting the conflict out didn’t seem likely.
As if sensing the turmoil in Rimes’s thoughts, Duke said, “Your friends are still alive. We would need them for us to have any hope of success.”
“All right.” Rimes felt a pressure in his head and wondered if Duke might be trying to manipulate him. The pressure disappeared as quickly as it had come on. “Here are my terms. We rescue my team. We destroy this thing. When it’s destroyed, you surrender to me.”
As one, the genies leveled their weapons on Rimes.
“Captain, please.” Duke waved the genies’ weapons down. “What value is there in antagonizing us?”
“Hear me out. You surrender to me and turn over your weapons. You swear to remove yourselves from this war. We repair the Tesla, and I release you.”
“Remove ourselves from the war?” Duke recoiled in disbelief. “This is the humans’ war. They are the ones hunting us down.”
“Those are my terms.”
Andrea defiantly stepped forward, ignoring Duke’s angry glare. “We keep our weapons. We have to be able to defend ourselves.”
Rimes saw the defiance and determination in the faces of the other genies. “All right.”
Duke tapped his chin and inhaled deeply. “You understand that we will still fight them when they come after us? Agreeing to remove ourselves from the war is not agreeing to let someone kill us without resistance.”
Rimes set his carbine down on the dead bug. “I’m seeking an end to aggression. If, as you claim, we’re the aggressors, that we’re agitating and fabricating evidence to justify our actions, it should be simple enough to bring this to an end by exposing the lies.”
“Idealism has no place in the human world.” Duke’s voice was flat; his eyes were cold. He relaxed and waved a hand in the air. “Neither does honor, and yet you have a reputation for just that. We agree to the terms.”
Rimes slowly picked his carbine up off the bug corpse and placed it into its brace on his backpack. He gingerly stepped forward, hand extended. Duke stared at Rimes’s hand for an awkward moment before accepting it.
As they shook, Rimes said, “I’m very interested to hear your plan. You do have a plan, right?”
Duke smiled cryptically. “Captain, would we have gone to all this trouble without a plan?”
Rimes winced and realized he’d made a terrible mistake.
43
30 October, 2167. Fourth planet of the COROT-7 system.
* * *
TOGETHER, Rimes and the genies searched the arch-ringed pit and the outer chambers accessible through the arches. Even moving in twos and threes, their lamplight was swallowed by the hungry darkness, making the search slow. Whether it was Rimes’s presence or something else, the genies seemed short-tempered. Slipping in the black fungus, wiping the water that seemed to almost be raining now, twisting at every distorted echo: every activity brought a sour snarl to their alien faces. They were breathing heavy and sweating, just like Rimes, and there was a fatigue in some of their eyes that seemed greater than anything a human could possibly endure.
After several minutes, they located a narrow opening onto a passage. The passage split abruptly, one fork continuing straight ahead beyond Rimes’s lamp’s range, the other cutting right. A quick look to the right revealed a ramp up. Rimes’s lamp barely reached the ramp’s top, which leveled off, then ended at a sealed opening.
They took the passage leading straight, one of the smaller genies on point. Rimes and Duke followed, Andrea just behind them.
The sealed-off opening bothered Rimes. If it marked the end of the structure’s accessible sections, it seemed most likely his team would be above, and he and the genies were moving in the wrong direction. Maybe they’re safe and Duke’s less omniscient than he thinks?
The passage led on for a short distance before taking a hard right turn. A few paces beyond the turn, the genie on point was waiting for them, squatting low, lamp off, left arm held up with a closed fist.
Everyone froze.
The genie indicated a point of entry was ahead, then signaled the rest of them should crouch. He waved Rimes forward.
Grimacing against the pain in his injured knee, Rimes turned his headlamp off and duck-walked forward. His knee burned, but it held. He stopped next to the genie, sensing more than seeing an opening several meters ahead.
Seconds passed, the genie watching Rimes expectantly, evaluating, judging.
Something in the space beyond the opening moved—a shuffling sound, echoing. Rimes had the distinct sense of a large chamber. He was about to wave Duke forward, when it appeared: a pale blue glow. It was just enough to give faint definition to the space beyond—a vast chamber.
Rimes gasped, any thought of Duke forgotten.
Once again, the first impression Rimes had was that of a dome, although he couldn’t actually see if the shape held beyond what wall curvature was visible. Centered in the chamber was a form, an outline of blue energy surrounding an intricate matrix of blue-white lights. It was suspended in the air three meters above the ground, and it stretched another three meters to the ceiling
. Kneeling beneath it were Munoz, Watanabe, and Fontana. There were three others Rimes couldn’t be sure of.
Fontana slowly rose to her feet. She trembled as she hesitantly edged forward. Rimes waved Duke forward, then turned back to watch, transfixed. Fontana stopped at the base of the glowing form. A corona of energy suddenly surrounded her and she flinched, then her back arched.
Slowly, she began to rise.
Duke stopped at Rimes’s side. He didn’t seem surprised by the sight, merely intrigued. “I would think our time to act is imminent, Captain,” he whispered. “Its focus is directed at your friend there.”
Rimes sensed it now, the absence—or at least the weakening of—the uncertainty that had been gnawing at him. He questioned whether the change was real or just a trick by the presence. No, this is me. For the moment, it’s me. “What do you propose?”
“Our immediate focus must be on gaining their freedom. We lack the capability to act against it at this point. There is another entry into that chamber, the path your team took. We must charge in there, gather your team, and take them out the way they came in.”
Rimes looked at Duke, incredulous. “That’s it? Run in and grab them, then run back out?”
“Of course not.” Duke frowned, annoyed. “You will need a distraction. I will provide it. As I suspected, it is some sort of energy construct. Firearms will not harm it. Focused as it is at the moment, though, it is vulnerable. I will keep a few of my comrades here in this passage with me. You take the rest into the chamber. On my signal, run for your team and gather them up, then take them out. We will give you what time we can.”
Rimes looked at the genie who’d been on point. There was no doubt, no hesitation in the genie’s eyes: he would go where Duke sent him. “I have to trust you, Duke, and I’m trying to, but I need to know what I’m working with here.”
“It is a simple matter of synergy.” Duke remained patient, but there was the slightest note of irritation in his voice. “Alone, I cannot stand against that. With the assistance of my brothers and sisters, I can distract it. Long enough for you to get your team clear, but no longer.”