Aurora

by Mark W. Tiedemann

  The scream they heard came like a cancerous wind, raw and grating. For nearly five seconds they heard it, then it ended abruptly. They stopped firing.

  Smoke billowed from the molten hole. Coren approached carefully, breathing shallowly, the odor thick and choking. Carefully, he leaned through the opening and looked down. The shaft was unlit and pitch black.

  "Do you have a light?'

  'Tor you, anything!"

  Coren twisted around to look up. Gamelin stood on the rungs of a service ladder, visible only from the waist down in the illumination spilling from the burned doorway, a meter or so above. Coren began to raise his blaster. One foot left the rung, swiftly arcing through the space between them, an impossible stretch to Coren's mind, and caught his wrist with the toe. Coren's hand opened automatically and his blaster clattered down the shaft.

  He tried to pull back, but something small and hard came out of the shadows and impacted his left shoulder. He slammed against the molten edge of the door.

  He was jerked backward then, and staggered to the floor. His shoulder throbbed and his right hand was numb, the wrist already darkening.

  Blaster fire echoed out of the shaft.

  "Damial"

  Hofton spun around and grabbed his pad- He entered commands, then knelt by Coren. 'Are you all right-~`

  "Stupid question," Coren said- "Of course not"

  "Stay here.

  Before Coren could respond, Hofton was gone. Very fast. He sat there, nursing his wristwhich he was certain was broken-and trying to ignore the growing pain in his shoulder.

  "Second time that bastard. . ." he mused

  He heard more blaster fire, distant and muted- Then came a clattering from the melted door. Something was coming back down the shaft.

  Coren managed to get the other blaster from his holster. He aimed it at the door, waiting.

  A shadow dropped past the opening. Coren fired, but he knew he had missed.

  He got to his feet and made his way back to Rega's private office.

  Shola Bran's body was still there, now on its back, the face a pulped and blackening mass, the limbs dislocated.

  He's doubled back ...

  The only open access for Gamelin now if he wanted to avoid the Aurorans was up. Coren hurried for the steps to the landing pad.

  The broad field was only partly open to the sky. Most of it lay beneath a canopy. Coren kept to the canopied area, heading for the machine shop, hoping he was in time to warn Hofton. A row of antique aircars stood in a neat row to his left, at the far end of the field- From between two of them, a pair of Aurorans in sooty-black masked suits sprinted out to meet him. Relieved, Coren raised his free hand in greeting.

  And Gamelin was between them, a hand on each neck, squeezing Coren heard the chilling crack of bone and cartilage, saw the two Spacers writhe for only a few moments before dangling, lifeless, in the cyborgs easy grasp.

  Coren dropped to one knee and brought the blaster up smoothly, unhesitantly, and pressed the trigger. The flash leapt the distance and splashed against Gamelin's chest. He dropped the bodies and staggered back. Coren fired again, knocking Gamelin down. Coren ran toward him, blaster ready.

  Gamelin's torso was a mass of bums. It amazed Coren that he had managed to get this far. But how had he gotten past the two Aurorans he had just killed? And where was Hofton?

  In a serpentine maneuver Coren found difficult to follow, Gamelin twisted around and sprang for the cover of the antiques. Coren fired again and missed- As he passed between the discarded corpses of the Aurorans, he smelled burnt flesh and plastic, heavy in the air. Blood smeared the floor where Gamelin had rolled over.

  The sound of metal being scraped echoed through the bay. Coren stopped at the first aircar, listening through the loud pulse in his ears. He swallowed dryly. A grinding sound came then, and Coren realized that Gamelin was trying to open one of the aircars. He almost laughed none of them worked-but then thought, What if he's prepped one? He's been here for a While . . .

  Tightening his grip on the blaster, he stepped between two cars, crouching low.

  Behind the first row of aircars was a second, shorter one, of even older models in worse condition. He made his way behind these, by the wall, and scurried from vehicle to vehicle.

  "Mr. Lama'" someone called.

  Coren bit back a curse, silently willing the Auroran to be quiet. He moved to the next vehicle.

  A shadow slipped across his field of vision as he peered around the side. Coren scampered to the front of the car, blaster up, and looked left and right. Nothing.

  "Mr. Lanra, we have the area seated!" Not Hofton, he realized, but some other Auroran.

  Another movement to the left. Coren aimed, hesitated.

  And felt himself lifted from the floor, his neckline choking him. He flailed his arms, trying to wheel around in mid-air. He fired the blaster at the ceiling. All at once, he was flying through the air. He saw the domed roof of a car rising, growing, an instant before he slammed against it

  He made himself roll, and fell off the vehicle to the floor. His entire body trembled. He stood shakily, and noticed that the blaster was still in his hand.

  Running feet converged on him. He looked around and saw several Aurorans approaching. He looked the other way-and saw Gamelin striding toward him.

  He raised the blaster and touched the stud

  Gamelin roared in pain as the energy burst across his chest. In the brilliance, he seemed to be fighting with some invisible Other, his massive arms swinging wildly, as though he were delivering blows. But then just as suddenly, he was gone. Coren staggered toward the spot where he had been standing, arm straight out, blaster in hand

  -and his shoulder erupted in agony. He spun through the air, careening above parked vehicles, and crashed against the wall.

  He slid to the floor and pushed himself around- The sound of blaster fire filled the air. Coren licked his lips and waited, eyes closed, while a wave of nausea rolled through him. Then he stepped away from the wall.

  Gamelin appeared in front of him, tall and pale and damaged. Coren's insides seemed to heave in sudden fear. He could not move his right arm. He snatched the blaster with his left hand as Gamelin reached for him.

  He felt the cyborg's hand on his right shoulder, pressing him back to the wall, forcing a scream from him. He felt the wall against his back, unyielding. He saw Gamelin's right fist cocked back, and Coren pressed the blaster against the cyborgs sternum. As the fist drove into Coren's chest, he touched the stud and held it.

  Heat boiled between them. Gamelin ignored what must have been searing pain, hitting him three, four times. Both of them stood, mouths agape, shouting wordlessly. Coren closed his eyes against the glare of light and heat that continued until Gamelin's hand suddenly dropped away and the blows ceased. Dimly, he heard a meaty, metallic sound as something hit the ground at his feet, and lie realized the cyborg had collapsed

  Coren's mouth remained open, but no sound emerged. He opened his eyes and all he saw were Aurorans rushing toward him, Hofton in the lead- Nothing made sense. He felt himself slowly slide to the floor.

  Then he saw the body, burned in half, smoke and ash drifting upward ...

  The only thing he knew then was how difficult it was to breathe, and how loud each gasp sounded rasping and tortured

  "Just standing there. he managed to whisper. The effort of speaking made him cough~ and the cough seared his esophagus. He tasted blood

  A face appeared above him, blurry and indistinct. The mouth moved- Coren shook his head- I dont-2'

  More coughing. He tried to sit up, feeling that sitting up would be easier on him, but he could not quite organize the movements necessary. Hands grasped his shoulders, but it seemed like they were keeping him down instead of helping him. He glared at the face he still could not quite recognize.

  check it thoroughly, I dont want any mistakes-2'

  "--how many shots it took? I've never---2'

  '~--police the house
, get all trace of our presence wiped-2'

  if-cant move him yet---2'

  the medical team-'

  If-dead, downstairs, including his subordinate-~'

  Coren closed his eyes and tried to both ignore the voices and to hear better what they said- He wanted sleep. The pain was becoming much sharper, all through his torso. His breathing worsened, and he gasped- He understood that he was in serious trouble. He tried to talk, but now only a thick gurgle came out

  "Mr. Lanra ... Coren ... listen to me. We have a medical drone coming ... can you hear me?'

  Coren blinked in the chill air and managed to focus on one face. Hofton. The Auroran frowned thoughtfully, then looked away.

  "How bad?'

  "Both lungs are partially collapsed," someone else said- "One is punctured by two broken ribs at least, his sternum has been crushed, and the bronchial sac is filling with blood- A lot of ruptured blood vessels, internal bleeding, pulmonary distress-"

  "I understand," Hofton said, cutting the voice off. "Coren. We're bringing a unit-we can keep you alive once it's here, but you have to keep still."

  Coren tried to swallow, but his mouth and throat felt filled with mud- He spit. Again.

  "is it---~' he managed, and coughed- "Is it! De a. .

  "Gamelin is dead, Coren. Yes. We have the body. Were prepping it for removal now."

  Coren tried to pat Hofton's hand in thanks, but missed, and the movement caused pain across his chest. He worked at keeping his eyes open. They were Aurorans, Spacers. They could do anything, even beat death. After all, they were themselves two, three centuries old, sometimes four. They did not die, as far as Terrans were concerned, no one who lived that long died, so saving his life should be an easy thing, patching up a few broken bones, stopping a little bleeding, stabilizing-stabilizing

  Coren heaved insi&-or his insides turned within his body, he could not quite tell which-and abruptly he felt cold all over-hands and legs, shoulders, his ears. Sound came from a distance.

  Shit, he thought very clearly.

  "Coren. Coren."

  He tried to apologize, but something filled his mouth. He choked, coughed, and closed his eyes.

  Sen Setaris stared down at her hands for a tong time after Hofton finished his report. Hofton waited through the silence, grateful for the chance to do nothing for a few moments.

  Finally, Ambassador Setaris sighed and looked up at him. Her eyes looked sunken; Hofton wondered when she had last slept

  "We've already been informed," she said, "that our actions in this matter are in violation of several articles in the treaty governing the Spacer legation presence on Earth." She shook her head- "I don't suppose there was any way to save him?'

  "No, Ambassador."

  'And you couldn't just have left him."

  Hofton looked at her oddly. It was not really a question so much as a concession. "It was my understanding that Mr. Lanra had informed certain people in advance of our action. His presence there would undoubtedly have led to us regardless. I thought being open about it, given his death, might alleviate the worst consequences."

  Setaris almost smiled. "I suppose being accused of murder would be worse."

  'That was my assessment, yes."

  "Of course it was." Setaris seemed to look through him for a time. "It's over. We've been officially recalled- The mission is closing down. I've been alerting all Spacers in residence that our embassies will be closing up and all Spacer representation on Earth will be gone. I'm advising them to pack up and leave."

  "Isn't that extreme?'

  "Not to Terran authorities. We conducted a covert police action without their knowledge or consent. Two of their citizens are dead as a result. Senator Taprin is screaming over the hyperwave that we ought to be summarily thrown off the planet, as if he could somehow engineer such an event in exactly that manner. The elections for the Eurosector seats look to be shaping up solidly anti-Spacer. Home has decided to cut our losses and retreat as gracefully as possible." She looked up. "We have the cyborg'

  "Yes."

  'And the Nova Levis records?'

  "Mr. Looms did have a copy in his Kenya residence. They are no longer there."

  "Well, that's something, at least."

  "May I ask what you intend to say to Ariel?'

  Setaris frowned- "Hmm? About what?'

  "She and . . . Coren Lanra . . . were lovers. She should be informed"

  "No. By now it would probably be one more piece of too much bad news."

  "But---!'

  "No, Hofton. Leave it alone. You're going to be too busy over the next several days to worry about it" She stood. "We need a manifest of all our data, and a roster of personnel. Would you get started on that, please?'

  "Yes, Ambassador." He hesitated- "May I ask a question?'

  "Of course."

  "What is so important about the Nova Levis data that it was worth all this?'

  "I'm not sure it was," Setaris said thoughtfully. "But ... it's a question of preservation. The work being done there bore directly on our long-term survival. They never finished it, not here, and we have no way of knowing what's been done at the sister facility on the planet Nova Levis." She leaned on her desk. 'We're about to find out, though, and the more information we have going in, the better it will be for everyone."

  "I see. Thank you. I'll get started on your requests."

  The viewing pool filled with complex shapes that moved in constant tarantellas around each other, linking together to form configurations that, after several turns through the dance, split apart to join up with other asymmetrical collections. Bogard watched, rapt.

  '-This is life," he said.

  'After a fashion," Thales said. 'What you are seeing is the restructuring of a DNA strand by means of dendrimers. Those spiky particles that never completely join with the new configurations."

  Bogard saw them, like exotic aquatic animals, collections of writhing tendrils. "Dendrimers are nanotech delivery systems."

  "Correct," Thales said. "They are the basic unit of modification within biological systems. They carry proteins, pseudoviruses, enzyme packets, and prions into cells, and begin the basic work of overhauling an existing genome."

  'And this example? What is the host organism?'

  'This is from an Auroran embryo."

  (Modification in utero?'

  "In vitro. No Auroran has actually given live birth since the species was established."

  "Species?'

  "If you compare an Auroran sequence with a Ten-an., you will see fundamental differences."

  The image in the pool shifted, replaced by charts comprised of millions of hairline dashes. Bogard read them.

  I see," he said- "But cross-breeding is not prohibited by this."

  "That is why Aurorans are still regarded as basically human, even though the designation homo sapiens sapien is erroneous."

  "Do they know?'

  'That they are different? Yes. How different? Some suspect, but I doubt most of them know. Or care. Solarians have diverged even further, and apparently are continuing to do so intentionally."

  "How? Why?'

  "In reference to Spacers in general, or Solarians specifically?'

  "Spacers in general,

  "Survival. Adaptation to environment. Some of it was intentional, but the process has continued on as a consequence of environmental pressure. This same modification process was applied to the biospheres of all Spacer colonies to suppress native ecologies and allow human-adaptive ecologies to flourish."

  "We were told that these worlds were found devoid of significant complex organisms."

  "Morphologically naive, yes. A few were. But the very presence of oxygen in the atmospheres suggests that something more complex had been in place to begin with. Most were younger than Earth, the rest had simply not experienced a catastrophic trigger to begin the kind of rampant evolution characteristic on Earth. But even the younger ones contained a well-developed biosphere which proved unsuitable
in some cases inimical-to human life."

  "They lied about it"

  "Not at first. But later, they felt a degree of shame. For whatever reason, they adopted the popular version and have subsequently stuck to it. However, the process they initiated did not conveniently end once the biospheres were remade. Mutation has continued- One of the results has been the forced adaptation of the human genome to an environment that is actively mutating. This has occasioned unusual illnesses, most of them resurgences of the illnesses that drove many of the early colonists from Earth in the first place."