Animus Intercept

by Lawrence Ambrose

  Patricia drew a quick image of her home planet and handed it to the alien leader.

  "Where is this Earth?" Ashuta asked.

  "Have you measured the distance between your walls?"

  "Yes. Is it further away than that?"

  "Much farther. More than a million times that distance. A million million times."

  "It is hard to imagine such a distance."

  "In terms of space, it is a relatively short distance."

  "You must fly in a fast ship." The alien leader stared at her. "Or you live a long time."

  "Our ships are fast."

  "If this is true, why have you come here?"

  "To destroy your world." Patricia smiled. She knew the Zikkan had only a fuzzy notion of what a smile meant, and their red staring eyes signified deep alarm. "Don't worry. We did not know your sphere held life. Our mission was to destroy it because it is headed close to our world – close enough to cause considerable damage and loss of life. But we were unable to do more than damage the outside of your sphere. Your world was constructed to withstand forces greater than we can create."

  "Constructed?"

  "Yes. Your sphere was built many millions of years ago by your ancestors."

  "Only our great god, Zositor, can create a world."

  "Your world was created by people such as yourselves."

  "How could mere people do such a thing?"

  "If you know enough and have the right tools..." Patricia shrugged. "You can build almost anything."

  She knew it was a lot for them to digest. More than a lot – it would be like trying to swallow an alien universe. But these aliens, despite their leader's protests, appeared more thoughtful than histrionic. Maybe it was because their faces were far less obviously expressive than a human's. Or maybe, as per her reputation, Ashuta was exceptionally rational and deliberative. The Zikkan temperament differed from human psychology in many subtle ways. Observing all the Keeper knew, which was vast, still left gaps in her knowledge about the nature of their reactions. She could predict their behavioral responses, much in the way she could predict human behavior, but she didn't know the thoughts or feelings behind them.

  "Your people no longer wish to harm us?" Ashuta asked.

  "The mission against your world – the sphere which houses your world – has been canceled."

  "Can you speak with your world?"

  "Not from here."

  "You say your ship is here. Why were you traveling on foot?"

  "Our ship is not permitted in your world."

  "Who did not permit it?"

  "The people who built this world, your ancestors, created certain safeguards. One of them, apparently, was to prevent the introduction of large-scale products of advanced technology into your world. We were able to bring in small items, but not our ships."

  "So you are isolated here?"

  "Yes," said Patricia. "All we ask is safe passage back to our ship, and we will leave you in peace."

  No one spoke for a few minutes. One difference between human beings and the Zikkan, she thought, was that the Zikkan seemed more content with silence. Their questions, regardless of the strange circumstances, remained on point. Most human leaders would be posturing and threatening and wasting time denying the obvious.

  "We will discuss this matter in private. Our soldiers will take you to a comfortable place and provide food and water as needed."

  The six yellow jackets escorted Patricia to a room that appeared to be connected to a living quarters that made her think of an army barracks. She was served the usual small square of honeycomb and a bread-like substance composed of a particular plant pollen that she knew provided an impressive complex of amino acids, minerals, and vitamins – one of several Zikkan stock food items that were also nutritious for humans. The Zikkan, particularly the warrior-class "hornets," shared the human love of meat, but they preferred it uncooked and aged to a degree that would make most people gag. They'd learned through observation of the resident humans – the Neanderthals – that their preference was cooked meat that was relatively unspoiled, and so had made that part of the captured humans' diet.

  After consuming her square of honeycomb, they served her a slab of meat worthy of a Texan steakhouse, harvested from one of the domesticated cow herds on the outside of the city. Well-seared on the outside, half-raw on the inside. To Patricia's semi-human lips it was tasty. She had no trouble eating the massive meal. She was eating for herself and several million NDs, after all.

  Unlike her human compatriots, Patricia didn't take a break from crunching all the data she had on the Zikkan and mulling over the logical possibilities of Ashuta's decision. Her best guess was that the Zikkan leader would initially reject her request for safe passage. From her point of view, they would have everything to lose and nothing to gain by releasing them. Now that they knew something about them, they'd want time for further study to assess the dangers the human race posed. The humans posed no threat to them here, but it was unknown what they might do once they were back in the ship. Perhaps they'd call their people and try again to destroy Animus? Too many unknowns to release them now.

  So when the yellow jackets ushered Patricia back into the presence of Ashuta and her advisors, she wasn't surprised when Ashuta informed her that they were not prepared to release her and her crew yet.

  "You have offered an extraordinary account for your presence here," the leader stated. "How much of it is true, I cannot say. Possibly all of it. Possibly very little. We need to know more about you and your people to reach a full assessment of the various possibilities. Also, resolving the blood debt you and your people incurred is not a simple matter. The bond-mates of those killed by your weapons demand justice and recompense. I cannot simply discharge this debt without consulting with all the affected individuals."

  "I understand," said Patricia. "We all regret the loss of life on both sides. But please remember that your people attacked and attempted to imprison us first without provocation. Therefore, the responsibility for the deaths of your people logically resides with you and others whose policies led to this morally unjustified aggression."

  She spoke calmly, without rancor, as though stating the unquestionably obvious. The leader and her advisors' only response was to sit even straighter than they already were.

  "But you should also remember that you are a trespasser in our world," said Ashuta. "A trespasser that came here, if your own words are true, to destroy us. Would you deny us the right to defend our world?"

  "No. But we were not attacking you in your world. We trespassed, true, but only to find some of our people who were brought here by force. I consider using force against us instead of attempting communication to be unjustified."

  "I am not surprised that you would consider it unjustified. But your ethical views are not my primary concern. My primary concern is the welfare of my people, and I must act in their interests."

  "It is the same with me," said Patricia.

  "I understand. And I am willing to listen to your concerns and weigh them against those of my people in the days to come."

  "Unfortunately, Wise One, that is unacceptable to us."

  "Unless I am mistaken, you are not in a position to dictate terms."

  "You are mistaken."

  The leader and her advisors stared at her for a full minute before Ashuta spoke.

  "What is the nature of my error?"

  "You underestimate our power."

  "How? Your people are in a prison, without weapons. You have said your ship cannot enter our world. What power do you have?"

  "How would you assess the power of the explosions at your Fraternity Building and the aerial conflict with your soldiers?"

  After several seconds, Ashuta replied, "They were large - as large as our greatest gas explosions."

  "Can you imagine a thousand of them?"

  The leader regarded her with red-rimmed eyes but didn't reply.

  "They're called Super High Explosives or SHE," Patri
cia continued. "Our ship has fifteen of them, each one equal to more than a thousand times the explosion you witnessed on your Fraternity Building."

  "Your ship is not in our world. How could it use its weapons on us?"

  "The doorway between worlds is open," said Patricia. "We can fire on you from there. We can not only wipe out this city – we can erase the whole of your society from existence."

  Patricia smiled sweetly. Now the advisors moved, half-standing. Ashuta raised her hand and they settled back down.

  "We could erase your existence right now." Ashuta's usual mellifluous hum had acquired a ratcheting cicada edge. The yellow jackets air rifles rose in their hands.

  "No. You could kill this body, but I exist elsewhere. I can take many forms."

  "What manner of creature are you, if this is true?"

  "I'm a machine," she said. "A machine that thinks."

  "But the others are not machines," said Ashuta. "I know this because threatening their lives caused your surrender."

  "True."

  "Perhaps we could make that same threat now?"

  "You could. But I will also make a threat: harm my crew, and I will annihilate you. Not only your society, but the union you call the Four Flames. Nothing will remain of your people but smoking ashes. The Zahena Alliance will rule this world uncontested."

  "Your mask of goodwill falls away," Ashuta said.

  "I bear you no ill-will. I have observed that you negotiate with threats of violence and support your beliefs with violent aggression. I'm merely negotiating with you in a way you apparently understand and respect."

  "You are wrong. We are not a violent people."

  "And yet you assaulted my crew, imprisoned them, and would kill them if they tried to escape."

  Ashuta was silent for several moments.

  "Your reasoning is not devoid of merit," she said. "How do you know so much about our world?"

  "I have spoken with another machine – one left behind by the builders of this world – that has recorded and continues to record all that occurs within these walls. I know everything about you – your history, your beliefs, your weaknesses and strengths, Ashuta. I know more than you know about this world."

  "It is a demon!" one of the advisors cried. "It attempts to compel us with lies!"

  "I only ask that we be allowed to leave."

  "How do we know you won't 'annihilate' us once you are back in your ship?" Ashuta asked.

  "You can't be certain we won't. But if you refuse to release us, your destruction is certain."

  "We have no proof that this creature possesses such power," said one of the advisors.

  "True," said Ashuta. "Perhaps a demonstration away from our city that we can safely observe?"

  "I agree to a demonstration. We will strike the shrine on your Mountain of Remembrance. It is a safe distance from your city. You could observe it from the north windows of this building."

  Now Ashuta was rising from her chair, slowing herself in mid-motion to a more dignified pace. She took a moment to adjust her bright gold tunic while her advisors hummed in a pitch nearly too low for Patricia's human ears to catch.

  "That shrine is sacred," Ashuta. "It is said to have been built as a sign of fidelity with the Creator Herself."

  "My captain and my crew are sacred to me."

  "Would you consider another location to demonstrate your power?"

  "The agricultural fields west of the city would be acceptable."

  "Your demonstration must exact a price, then."

  "Using our weapons exacts a price. Therefore, you must bear part of the cost."

  A few seconds passed before the Zikkan leader replied, "I see. In that case" – she turned to her "Circle of Five" – "I choose to release the prisoners and have them escorted from our world as Patricia requests."

  "Without proof?" one of the advisors asked.

  "Without proof, yes, but how can we deny the strength of the evidence? We have no reason to doubt her claims."

  "Then you recommend we capitulate to its demands?"

  "I see no other reasonable choice."

  "THEY'VE AGREED to release us, Captain."

  Patricia stood before Zane and Zzull in the underground "holodeck," a big smile on her face.

  "You got them to listen to reason?"

  "I got them to fear the wrath of the gods." She gave him a quick summary of their negotiations. Zane's initial frown slowly surrendered to a wary smile.

  "Could we even fire SHE rounds into this world?"

  "Knowing the Builders' parameters for what's technologically permissible, I believe a SHE round would be allowed."

  "You believe?"

  "From what I know, I consider it highly probable."

  "Not that I would've authorized that kind of strike," said Zane, his smile thinning. "A demonstration, yes, but not a punitive genocide."

  "I didn't think you would approve that."

  "Would you?"

  "If they harmed you I would've destroyed them all."

  Zane stared into the blue-green eyes that had once belonged to his best friend, but these were not his friend's eyes. In that moment, it was like witnessing the birth of someone else – the dawning of a fiercer spirit loyal to him in a way that even Keira hadn't matched. Keira had compassion and kindness for all. Patricia clearly operated on different principles. He wasn't sure whether to be appalled or glad.

  "I'm not sure how I'm going to join you," said Zane. "When I dropped the mile or two down here, I wasn't thinking of how to get back up."

  "Ten Zikkzu will be flying down to pick you up. They'll have a harness."

  "Let's hope they don't hold any grudges."

  "I'm sure their leaders informed them of the consequences of violating the agreement, Captain Cameron."

  "I can only hope."

  "They're coming for us now. I'll check back with you soon."

  "Good luck."

  She stepped toward him, her eyes shining with emotion, as if she planned to hug him – but then she was gone. Zane breathed out.

  "I want to come with you," said Zzull, her hums translated instantly into the Keeper's imitation of Patricia's voice. "There's no place left for me here. I will be marked for death."

  "You're absolutely welcome to come with us." A frown crept into Zane's face as he contemplated Zzull's likely reception. "I can't guarantee the quality of your life on Earth. I'm not saying my leaders or anyone else would harm you, but in all honesty, they will want to study you and control your movements. You would not be permitted to interact with the general public."

  "They would see me as a threat? Beings with such great power?"

  "Not a threat in the way you think." Zane sighed. "It's complicated."

  "But I would be allowed to live? The opportunity to learn from you?"

  "I would say so, yes."

  "I accept these terms. And thank you for your honest sharing."

  "Then you'll be coming with me – with us?"

  "No. The Zikkzu would kill me on sight. I will leave now and watch for their arrival. When they take you, I will follow, unseen." She paused. "Or that is my hope."

  "Okay. See you at the ship, then."

  "May your wings always carry you." Zzull's eyes glowed green – a sign of approval or humor, Zane suspected from previous encounters with the aliens. "Our way of saying good fortune."

  "I thought it might be. Good luck to you, too."

  Zzull ordered the Keeper to keep on the lights until the Zikkzu arrived, and then launched herself upward, soon disappearing through the crack in the ceiling above.

  Zane didn't have much time alone with his thoughts before his yellow jacket escort showed up with his "ride" – a leather cradle that could've been an enlarged slingshot pouch. Zane cinched his DAH rifle more tightly around his shoulder as they landed. One of them made a peremptory motion for him to climb in. Others converged on all sides, seeking to tear his rifle from his shoulders. He slapped their hands aside, hard enough to hear th
eir carapaces crackle. Others grabbed his arms and shoulders, thrusting him roughly toward the cradle. No love lost here. Zane shook them off just as roughly.

  "Stop!" one of the yellow jackets buzzed, the Keeper's translation shouting in English a second later. They all looked around, startled, in search of the source of the foreign sounds. The speaker lowered his voice: "Our command is to bring him safely to the air ship."

  "Our command does not prevent us from using force if he resists!" another yellow jacket ratcheted.

  "He is not resisting."

  "He killed eleven of our brothers!"

  "I never wanted to harm you," said Zane, his words instantly translated into hummed phrases.

  The yellow jackets froze, their eyes shining red. Slowly, their heads turned, seeking the origins of the words.

  "I have lost my brothers, too," said Zane, and their gazes settled on him. "If we could've talked before, this tragedy might've been averted. We bear you no ill will."

  "It speaks," a yellow jacket noted wonderingly.

  The yellow jacket who had spoken in his defense approached him. His or her features seemed somehow familiar to Zane.

  "Are you the one who prevented the blue traitor from killing me above?"

  "Yes. I'm glad to see you survived."

  "This is the one you spoke of, Jahitz?" another asked. "The one with the healing touch?"

  "It would seem so."

  They backed off as Zane and the yellow jacket he'd saved headed toward the cradle. His benefactor, Jahitz, unhooked two straps and motioned for him to step inside. It was like slipping into a child safety seat as he was strapped in.

  "You will soon be reunited with your people," he said.

  Five yellow jackets grasped tethers attached to the top and hoisted him into the air with a lawn mower buzzing of wings. They'd obviously transported people or things this way before.

  The lights switched off below as they rose through the ceiling crack, and a dim speck of light above – visible only because of his PA suit's light-amplifying goggles – was the sole indication of a surface. The light expanded faster than Zane expected, the pull of acceleration continuing all the way up. He wondered how much energy that cost the yellow jackets.

  He'd been expecting a tunnel somewhere near his and Zzull's exit, but his SHE round had done most of their work for them, leaving a cavernous hole they had cleaned out and shored up with wooden girders and metal plates. They carried him through and out of the cave into the daylight. Except for the gouge in the nearby cliff there was no sign of the battle from only several hours before.