by Chris Fox
“They’ve made their move. I’ve foiled the attack, and recovered a larva,” Fizgig said, staring at the blank screen. “If they have a way to reach you, they’ll act soon. Either way, Dryker and Celendra are both in danger.” After a moment’s consideration, she spoke again. “This is why you must be diligent in your training, Nolan. I know humanity doesn’t value hand-to-hand combat, but when they strike, only you will be able to prevent the unthinkable. Continue your training, Nolan. Be ready when your foes come in the night.”
43
Didn't See That Coming
“Admiral?” a voice cut through sleep, and Dryker jerked erect in his bunk. Something pounded on the door. “Can you hear me?”
It was Juliard, and she sounded panicked. Dryker tossed off his blanket and swung his legs from the bed. Out of habit, he picked up his sidearm from the nightstand—one of the new plasma pistols the Primo were manufacturing from Void Wraith tech. He held it at his side, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he approached the door. He was groggy, and having trouble shaking it off—more than usual. It felt like he’d been drinking, though he hadn’t given in to that particular vice in months.
“What is it, Lieutenant?” Dryker slurred, tugging the door open. He blinked blearily at her, trying to understand what was happening.
Juliard raised her sidearm, and shot him in the chest. Dryker staggered back, pain flaring where the round had struck. He toppled to the floor, struggling to pull himself to his feet. His arms felt weak, his weight impossible to sustain. He collapsed against the bed, his traitorous body refusing to rise. Paralyzed, he realized with horror that the gun hadn’t fired a conventional round.
“I’m sorry about this, sir. I really am,” Juliard offered, kneeling next to him. She fished in her pocket, withdrawing a tiny cylinder. “I don’t have a choice though. You’ll understand in a moment.”
She raised the cylinder to his face, opening the top just under his nose. Something cold and slimy inched across his upper lip, and he gave a muffled scream as it crawled into his nose. His limbs refused to respond. He was powerless to stop the parasite—that had to be what it was. They hadn’t done extensive research, but he’d reviewed the scans from Kathryn Mendez. The same thing that had happened to her, and her father before her, was happening to him.
The parasite made its way into his nasal cavity, slithering toward his brain. There was a moment’s pressure, and then all pain faded. A blissful calm came over Dryker, and he relaxed. He could feel something indescribable spreading slowly through his head and down his spine. It was warm, and rather pleasant.
“It will be over in a moment. The unpleasant part is past,” Juliard said. She paused, biting her lip. “I know you’re probably wondering how this happened. The day before we left the Primo ship, Celendra came on me while I was sleeping. She’s stronger than she looks, probably because of the parasite. She held me down and, well…you can guess what happened. She gave me a parasite and told me to wait for the signal to give it to you. Our masters just gave me that signal.”
Dryker’s mind began to wander, a malaise settling over him. He was dimly aware of the consequences, of what this would do to humanity. Having both Celendra and himself implanted would doom the defense efforts for both species. If they were able to implant Fizgig as well, their resistance would effectively be over.
“There we go,” Juliard said, helping Dryker into a sitting position. “Motor control should start to return now. You’ll be able to stand in a moment. How do you feel?”
Dryker sobbed. The enormity of what had just been done to him was too much, especially after the weight of recent months. Humanity couldn’t survive too many more blows, and he knew he was in a unique position to deal just such a blow.
“Indeed.” A powerful voice spoke inside his head. “And that is exactly what you shall do. You will pass the following order to the human government, then repeat it to every convoy you’ve created: they are all to return to Earth for a final defense. Every vessel is needed. We are pulling together. We have found a path to victory.”
The trap was ingenious. It would doom humanity, allow them all to be picked off at once. Dryker rose to his feet, turning to Juliard. He was a prisoner, watching as the larva moved him like a puppet. “I’m going to need you to send several messages.”
44
Hunger
The Eye’s hunger had grown, eclipsing all other needs. Its cycle was close, and if it could harvest enough genetic material it could begin the next evolution. The morsels it had consumed until now had been enough to forestall the hunger, but only briefly.
While the Eye’s hunger was paramount, it was still monitoring hundreds of thousands of thoughtlines. Those had a hierarchy, and it lent more attention to one group in particular.
Its newest progeny had located the Birthplace.
The Eye watched as the entity that erroneously thought of itself as Reid explored the Forge. It spun off thoughtlines to study everything Reid saw, the ramifications spawning thousands of possibilities. The Birthplace was a temporal anomaly. Somehow, the Primo had either created or harnessed an area of space where time could be sped or slowed.
The power represented in the Birthplace was nearly limitless, especially for an entity like the Eye. It could breed thousands of generations in a moment, create trillions of soldiers and an endless supply of food. This would dramatically speed conquest of the nearby galaxies, allowing the Gorthians to continue their expansion.
The Eye watched eagerly as its progeny pushed through the Forge, engaging the defenders. It watched with disappointment as Reid fled, then with renewed hope as he seized control of the Gate Ship. If the Eye could recover that ship, not only could it then reach the Birthplace, but it could also reverse-engineer the Helios Gates themselves.
That spun off thousands of thoughtlines. For the first time, the Gorthians would be able to move quickly through the stars. No longer would they need to swim the vast gulf of blackness, wasting centuries in transit.
Then the Helios Ship exploded, and the Eye’s progeny was extinguished. The Eye suppressed its disappointment, spinning off new thoughtlines to incorporate the event. It had still learned much, could still eventually reach the Birthplace now that it knew where the fabled place lay. All it needed to do was breed a Primo vessel specifically for the task. It could fool the causality matrix the Primo had left in place, convincing other Helios Gates to follow the Eye’s slaves.
In the meantime, it was ready to see to its needs. The Eye’s hunger was terrible, and must be sated. It was time to harvest Earth.
45
That Ain't Right
Most Marines hated boring detail, the un-sexy jobs that officers often punished you with. Not Annie, though; she looked forward to gigs like this.
She turned to the Primo storage chamber, the blue metal completely out of place amidst the junk she’d accumulated in her shuttle over the years. It sat there humming quietly, the clear plate over the occupant’s face revealing a pretty woman in her mid-twenties. She appeared to be sleeping.
Unlike the rest of Nolan’s crew, Annie had met Kathryn. She remembered the selfless soldier fighting for them back on Coronas 7, and remembered being both surprised and impressed by the woman’s abilities. Kathryn has been a trained field agent back then, while Nolan had clearly been nothing but an analyst. Annie empathized with Kathryn, because she owed the woman. She’d been as responsible as—or even more responsible than—Nolan, for Annie and the rest of the station getting out alive.
That had been why Annie had volunteered for this gig, offered to wait quietly at the rendezvous for Nolan to return. The others could go haring off after the Birthplace, while she babysat Kathryn. Nolan had been clear that Kathryn’s parasite could be a threat, and that bringing it to the Birthplace was risky. So, even though Annie knew the man was in love with her, he’d given the order for Kathryn to remain behind.
That left Annie with nothing but time. An officer might have used the time to strategize, b
ut Annie was just a grunt. Downtime was rare, so she enjoyed it to the fullest. There were two new seasons of Star Team 7 to catch up on, for starters. After she’d finished those, she’d gotten good and drunk for the first time since she’d been an independent miner.
Today, she was mindlessly surfing Quantum. She used a news site run by vets, as they tended to have the best intel about the war’s real effects on humanity. Annie was scrolling down the list of today’s stories when she spotted a holo of the president. She selected it, curious what Gregg had to say. She’d voted for the woman, and was pleasantly impressed by how well the woman had done in Earth’s convoluted political system. Annie followed the president’s career diligently, and had watched every address she’d ever given.
“Fellow humans,” the president began, the resolution sharpening as the video buffered. The UFC logo on the podium leapt into focus, as did the president’s weathered face. Her hair had been swept into a simple ponytail, a style few politicians were willing to embrace. It was a severe, military style. Annie loved it. “Today we face a monumental threat. We’ve learned that the Void Wraith are launching their invasion of Sol. I implore anyone capable of helping the defense to return home. Not just warships, but cargo ships and transports. The military, led by Admiral Dryker, is massing in orbit. They will do their utmost to drive back the invaders, but should they fail, we will need all the help we can get with the evacuation.”
The president was grimly silent for a long moment. She coughed into her hand, then looked back at the screen. “This could very well be our final battle, but it’s a battle we need to fight. And win. To this end, we’ve asked the Tigris for support. If they agree, their vessels may fight alongside ours. I know there is bad blood between us, but we need to put that aside. We need all the help we can muster, including the surviving Primo. Today, not just humanity but all the sentient races of the galaxy will stand together. If we succeed, our children will live to thank us. If we fail…there will be no children.”
The video clip ended, leaving Annie in stunned silence. Return home? Admiral Dryker had been very clear when Annie had seen him speak to Nolan. The admiral had intentionally scattered their forces, knowing that guerrilla tactics were their only chance.
Massing in a single system, even Sol, meant that they could be wiped out all at once. The move made no tactical sense, not unless you believed you could win that battle. They couldn’t, and Dryker knew it. The Void Wraith had countless ships, at least several thousand. That would certainly be enough to take Earth.
So what was the admiral hoping to gain?
She hoped Nolan got back soon.
46
We Need A Plan
Nolan popped the pill into his mouth, squeezing a little water from the bottle, then setting it onto the table. He didn’t like having to rely on stims, but events were moving quickly and if he didn’t stay current they’d outpace him. He took a deep breath and turned his attention back to the meeting, which was about to start.
Manda was the last to arrive, seated atop a floating hoverchair. It bobbed up and down on one side of the table, roughly where a human head would be. Manda folded her tiny arms, evidently waiting for him to speak.
“Thank you for coming,” Nolan began, nodding not just to Manda, but also to Lena, Atrea, and Thetah. “The minds at this table represent the best chance we have at stopping the Gorthians, and the Void Wraith. The goal is to bring everyone up to speed on the data, then find a way to win this war.”
“What’s the situation?” Manda asked, as if bracing herself for a blow. Her opinion of Nolan had been decidedly cooler since she’d learned that they’d brought Reid onto the Forge. He couldn’t blame her. If not for Delta’s sacrifice, they’d all be dead.
“I’ve received word that the Gorthians tried to implant Fizgig. She and I had discussed the possibility, and we believe that there’s a high likelihood the Gorthians would also have moved on Dryker and Celendra.”
“Assuming one of them wasn’t already implanted,” Lena said, ears twitching.
“You said this Admiral Dryker was the leader of your human military forces,” Manda interjected, leaning forward to stare hard at Nolan. “Who is this Celendra? The name sounds Primo.”
“It is,” Nolan said, nodding. “Celendra is the closest thing your descendants have to a leader. She’s the Voice of the First Light, a Primo carrier. The other Primo follow her.”
“Voice?” Manda asked, confusion evident.
“A Voice is the elected speaker for a vessel,” Atrea supplied. Her tone was exasperated. “The system is antiquated, and often prevents real action from being taken. Most Primo will follow the Voice of their vessel, but they are not compelled to do that.”
“That’s a terrible system,” Manda said, aghast. “What’s the purpose in doing away with a chain of command?”
“I asked myself the very same thing the moment I became aware of the Tigris military leadership,” Atrea said. She nodded to Lena. “Her people are much wiser than we. They lead by strength. The humans as well, to a lesser extent.”
“So this Celendra may be implanted,” Manda said. She looked to Nolan. “Do you have a way of confirming that either leader has been compromised? If so, what do you intend to do about it?”
“There’s another piece of news that’s relevant,” Nolan said, steeling himself. The next words were some of the most difficult he’d ever uttered. “I believe Dryker is definitely implanted. He’s given the order for all human vessels, not just military, to return to Earth for a final defense.”
“Forgive me, but won’t that mean their utter annihilation?” Thetah asked, speaking for the first time. She blinked as everyone looked in her direction. “I’m sorry if that’s already obvious.”
“That’s exactly what it means,” Manda said. She was still looking Nolan right in the eye. “And Nolan is correct. For their supreme military commander to issue such an order, he would have to be implanted. This makes things difficult.”
“More than difficult,” Nolan said, clenching his fists under the table. “If we can’t find a way to stop the Eye, then the Void Wraith are going to wipe out the human home world. In one battle, they’ll break the back of any resistance, and this war will be effectively over.”
“The Forge is powerful, as are the Helios Gates,” Manda said. “We can give your race a chance, at least. But you have to understand what’s at stake here, and it matters more than any of us. Partly, the Eradication exists to build an army, but I do not believe that is its primary purpose. I believe the Eradications exist to feed the Eye. During our war against it, we watched as it consumed worlds. It can devour billions in a matter of hours.”
“Can it be stopped?” Nolan asked.
“Possibly,” Manda replied, looking pained. “Our attempts to kill the Eye always failed. Its skin is resilient enough to pass through stars, making it impervious to nearly every conventional attack. However, the Eye does open its iris to feed. If we can find a way through the iris, I believe we could launch an attack on its heart. The few scans we’ve obtained suggest that the Eye’s internal organs are significantly less well protected.”
“We’ll also need to deal with their fleets,” Nolan said. “They’ll have thousands of vessels at their disposal. Can the Forge stand up to that kind of punishment?”
“Not for long, but if we bring a Helios Gate we can shield ourselves, and any allies,” Manda suggested. She pursed her lips, “Wait, you said that the Gorthian we killed back at the Birthplace was the first that you’d seen, right?”
“Yes,” Nolan nodded. “It’s possible there are others, but so far as we know Reid was the first to be implanted. One other nearly hatched, but we destroyed it before it could.”
“That could be excellent news,” Manda said. “The Void Wraith can be overridden by a Gorthian, but not by someone who’s been implanted. If they haven’t hatched another, then odds are good the fleets are controlled directly.”
“I know exactly who the
y’ll have placed in charge,” Nolan said, grimly. “Admiral Mendez. He’s possibly our finest strategist, and the senior most spy they turned. If it were me, that’s who I’d have running the show. So if I’m understanding where you’re going with this, you’re saying if we can take out Mendez we leave the Void Wraith fleets leaderless?”
“Precisely,” Manda said, grinning as she slammed a tiny fist against the arm of her chair. “If we can stop this leader, we might be able to leave the Eye defenseless.”
“How do we find him?” Nolan asked. “Mendez is canny, and will be careful to cover his tracks. He’ll be orchestrating this war from the shadows, careful not to be discovered.”
“The fastest way is through another implanted individual,” Thetah said, again blinking when everyone stared at her. She blushed, stammering as she continued. “By that, I mean, we need two things: a living larva, and a sample of the subject’s DNA. All larva come from the same Eye, and all share the same quantum entanglement. Each larva will give off a different resonance, influenced by the host’s DNA. We can use one implanted subject to locate the resonance of this Mendez.”
“I may be able to supply both,” Nolan said, giving a sudden grin. “We have the admiral’s daughter, Kathryn. She was implanted, and we put her in a Primo stasis chamber to slow the growth.”
“The direct progeny of the subject would be ideal,” Thetah said, perking up. “We can definitely use this Kathryn to locate her father.”
“That brings up an important question,” Nolan said, shifting the topic. This was a personal matter, but he also needed to be focused, and knowing the answer would help focus him. It might also deliver a powerful ally. “Can you cure someone of the larva?”