by Mark Wandrey
Shadow moved toward him, ensuring his path took him past as many of the cubes as possible. “Because Humans don’t have a strong sense of smell, I didn’t think what a world would look like where it mattered so much.” He shrugged as well and settled near the older Zuul. “Do you think I should have guessed at such things? Or hidden my surprise and curiosity at something new?” Genuinely unsure if that would be true, given what little he knew of his own people, he worked to make the question as neutral as possible.
“A fair point, Earth pup. No, with me, you have no need to dissemble.” He continued to regard Shadow carefully, his eyes a disconcertingly bright brown. “Do you remember nothing, then, of your time before the Humans?”
“We were not even a week old when the Humans saved us. Our mother died the day after giving birth to us, according to what the Zuul commander told our Human father. Do many Zuul remember their births, or have memories from so young?” Again, he ensured he kept his tone properly respectful.
“Not most, no.” A sharpening of his face told Shadow the older Zuul had noticed that he hadn’t answered the question. “I am Isgono, of Cho’Hosh.” He paused, giving Shadow a moment to reconcile the translator’s stumble. Cho’Hosh, it repeated, layering over it Day Song with the faint chime that indicated it wasn’t a perfect translation.
Shadow filed that away, figuring it for a clan name that meant more than its simple word translation, and when he blinked in confirmation, Isgono continued.
“Nor are they always memories, exactly, that some remember from their earliest days. Or their later days. A scent, a moment, understandings that they can replay in dreams.”
Excitement shot through him, tightening his hands on his own legs, cramping his toes in their boots. “Zuul have visions?”
“Humans might call it so. As you must have learned, we sense beyond what they do. In some Zuul, the things they sense are put back together in a different way.”
“Some Zuul?” Shadow had to hold himself still, striving not to communicate his near-overwhelming interest, on the chance that it would stop or distract him from the conversation.
“Earth pup, what do you remember of your time before Humans?”
“I don’t.” He looked away, eyes coming to rest on some middle distance. “I was very sick in my early days, even after arriving on Earth.”
“But.”
“But I dream.”
Isgono’s grunt communicated satisfaction and absolutely no surprise.
“I dream of space, sometimes. Three stars that orbit and fall and grow and wane and rise. Travel and loss. I forget who I am, and I remember, and I howl, or hear others howl, or both. I remember war I’ve never seen. I remember a smell I can’t place when I wake up.” He shook his head, regaining control of his words and studying the older Zuul. “I thought they were dreams, like Humans have, because my siblings don’t have them. I’ve followed Human holy people, trying to have visions and learn more.”
“It feels almost right sometimes, but doesn’t settle,” Isgono stated, and leaned forward. He’d tensed within the first few words Shadow spoke, then relaxed, jaw dropping slightly in a reassuring smile.
Shadow nodded, keeping his ears attentively pricked toward him even as nerves fired throughout his legs in the pressing urge to do something.
“Earth pup, as I said, I am Isgono of Cho’Hosh, and as you will now know, I am called to the Sei of my clan. More properly, you would refer to me as Sei Isgono Hosh.” The translator stuttered over ‘called’, and Sei offered multiple options.
One rose to the top for Shadow: shaman. Isgono was a holy one in his clan. Zuul could be called to things, to spirituality of some sort. Maybe, like Humans, they chose multiple paths. Maybe they weren’t all mercs. Maybe he could fight or, maybe Ripley could be a pilot and. Maybe they weren’t all made for war—he pulled himself up sharply, aware he’d gone rushing down paths of perhaps when there was someone directly in front of him who actually knew.
He wasn’t limited to wondering and poking around the immensity of GalNet.
He could just ask.
It spun him so hard he went right back to being wordless, his ears rotating and focusing on everything and nothing.
“Calm your mind.” Isgono’s voice pitched lower now, and the translator responded by slowing his words slightly. “Did you note the cube I paused at before?” He stared directly into Shadow’s eyes, then flicked his glance away, as though dismissing him.
A test?
Shadow did remember, and if this was to be his test to prove his worthiness to learn, or just a distraction for the wild tension Isgono sensed in him, he had it. He pushed away from the bench, further away from the door, aiming surprisingly well, for all his inexperience in zero G. In a single leap, he met his target, and didn’t remember steadying himself on anything along the way.
Then he smelled what the cube held and remembered nothing at all.
Did minutes pass? Had they somehow gone through the stargate already? He blinked, his eyes gummy and dry, and registered how deeply he breathed. The cube’s scent filled his lungs, his thoughts, his everything.
“This…” he managed, words crystallizing only with enormous effort. “This is…this is home.” It carried the commonality he’d only begun to notice in his siblings and himself. It brought the image of Dana, and the feeling of late evenings in their family quarters, without any identifiable reason to connect those memories to this cube. Something of the outback and the sea and the feeling of falling through stars…
“Yes.” Isgono sounded…Shadow couldn’t quite determine the emotion, not when words were still so difficult to come by in his own head. Sad. Triumphant. Worried. Proud. “Shadow, go and settle in your bunk. Rest. Bring your siblings to me once we are through the gate.”
Perhaps because Isgono had said his name, or perhaps because his entire world had narrowed to and exploded from the reality of that one new and yet utterly known scent, Shadow obeyed without asking anything at all.
* * *
“How are the kids?” Dana asked. “Are they scared, excited? Do they miss home?”
“They’re fine,” Alan replied. It would take several minutes for the reply to reach his wife. They were only minutes from the stargate. Paku was set for an immediate transition; she wouldn’t have time to reply. “They’re either excited or nervous.” He laughed a little. “Maybe some of both? They all send their love. We’ll be home in a few months, safe and sound. I hope it’ll be aboard Starbright, too. Love you and see you shortly.”
He keyed the transmission as completed, so she wouldn’t reply when he wouldn’t be there to receive it, and shut down the interface. On a monitor in the little cabin he’d been provided, Earth was a little blue spot no bigger than a marble. Soon, it would be infinitely further. He’d been careful not to show his wife how nervous he was.
Hundreds of men and women under his command were out there, somewhere, maybe wondering where their commander had disappeared to, and why he hadn’t returned. Their kids only gave the mission a higher cost. Not only did he not want to risk them on a combat mission, he didn’t want to have to face his wife if any of them got hurt.
“All hands, prepare for transition to hyperspace.” The alien computer voice reminded him of his kids, though it was in Zuul, and not English. The way the pups formed words was always a little different. Their lips were longer; their mouths shaped differently. They hadn’t evolved to form Human words. He was sure they were going to learn Zuul, and they should.
He hoped his wife could ultimately forgive him, because even if they all made it back alive, the kids would never be the same after this trip. A second later, he was unmade into hyperspace.
* * *
Sonya stood in front of the view screen, hands clasped behind her. Earth was falling behind them, now over 140 million kilometers away, and growing further by a couple thousand kilometers per second. This, officially, was the furthest she’d ever been from home. Something ached in the back o
f her throat, but she swallowed to force it back down.
“We’ve been further from Earth before.” Shadow appeared next her, and she narrowly kept herself from leaping away. He’d become quieter, and she’d been too distracted to even smell his approach.
“Listening in on my thoughts now, brother?”
“I’d almost forgotten, until I saw the gate. We came in this way once before, eyes closed, still carrying the scent of our mother, learning what the smells of Humans meant.”
The ache returned, and she flicked her ears in annoyance. “I don’t remember anything but Earth.”
“I know.” He leaned against her for a long moment before stepping away. “Aren’t you glad to be back in space, closer than ever to where we came from?”
Sonya had no answer to that, except to muffle the whimper that tried to climb out of her throat.
She watched the viewscreen until the engine’s thrust increased and the alerts sounded, then returned to the bunk she shared with Ripley. They were performing their final braking maneuver in preparation to rendezvous with the stargate.
“Ready to feel all your atoms?” Ripley asked cheerfully, not looking up from whatever project she had on her slate.
“Shadow reminded me we did this when we were babies. How hard can it be?”
Ripley wrinkled her lips in a half-hearted snarl, then shook her head. “We probably should have asked Uufek if hyperspace feels any different to Zuul. All we have are Human reports.”
“From what I understand, it sucks your first time no matter what, so at least we have that in common with the rest of the cadre.” That almost cheered Sonya back to her normal mood, picturing Hewers heaving big globs of barf in zero gravity.
“Except we already did this once when we were tiny,” Ripley answered, doing a semi-solid Shadow impression.
“Except that.” She barked a small laugh and strapped in with an abundance of caution. Unable to find anything else to distract herself with as they approached the gate, she stretched and looked back at her sister. “Ripley.”
“Yeah, Sun?” Ripley flicked an ear back toward her but didn’t look up from her slate.
“Have you? Talked to Uufek?”
Ripley’s ears flattened slightly, then swiveled. “No. She asked if we wanted to join her for a meal after we’re in hyperspace.”
“Do you want to go?”
Blonde ears flickered again, aiming in different directions. “Do you?”
“She knows something about us,” Sonya said after a long stretch of silence. “What do you think we can find out in one hundred and seventy hours?” She meant it to be teasing, but it came out with utter seriousness.
“You know what, Sunny?” Ripley turned fully to look at her, jaw dropping in something like a smile. “Everything.”
Sonya closed her eyes as the transition alarm sounded. “All hands, prepare for transition to hyperspace.” The Zuul voice was mechanical after being rendered into English.
Her thoughts crowded so messily in her head, even reality splitting around her was only so much noise in the universe.
* * * * *
Chapter 9
ZMS Paku, Hyperspace
“Shadow, Dad said we could unload the CASPers and train,” Drake said with a great deal of patience, for the third time. He’d been outvoted by his siblings, but the walk took longer than they’d expected, and he hoped to change any of their minds by being entirely reasonable.
He could go by himself, and usually would be fine to just break off from his siblings, but Shadow was so intent. If someone else would agree with him, Drake could convince himself whatever Shadow wanted them to do could wait.
It all made sense to Drake, but neither his brother nor his sisters seemed inclined to help. Which meant somewhere, half the ship away, their CASPers stood idle in their racks so Shadow could show them something.
It wasn’t the most annoying thing in the galaxy, but it felt top five right about now.
“The CASPers will be there when we’re done,” Shadow replied, also for the third time.
Drake moved that statement and tone into his top three of annoying things.
“Why are the halls over here so empty?” Sonya asked, walking more closely to Ripley than usual. “The ship’s carrying a full complement.”
“Smells like this corridor gets traffic,” Rex answered, ears flattening.
“We went through the gate half an hour ago. They probably have drills or routines, or maybe get to rest once we’re in hyperspace.” Ripley’s posture remained loose, though her words clipped a little. “Since nothing will happen for one hundred and sixty-nine hours.”
“Not nothing,” both Shadow and Drake offered at once, though Drake knew he and his brother absolutely didn’t mean the same thing.
Drake pictured his shiny new CASPer with the sort of longing that could strengthen a man’s tail, and Shadow kept them floating through suspiciously abandoned corridors on the far side of the ship from where Silent Night bedded down.
“Here.” Shadow grabbed a handhold where the wall remained solid.
Drake could see a door further down the way, so he assumed that’s where Shadow wanted to bring them. Though it would be much more interesting if the handhold covered a secret passageway into something more interesting than yet another door in yet another empty corridor.
Shadow hesitated so long, Drake pushed off the wall toward the door, and before his youngest brother could respond, the door slid open. Drake managed to snag it and kick his body around to slide into the room, not pausing to consider if someone might just be leaving quarters. He flexed to check his momentum, and dropped his feet back below his body, angling to hold steady and take in the large, predominantly empty room.
The three walls in front and to the side of him seemed to be large view screens, given each had a remarkably clear image. Each seemed to be a landscape of some sort, but none were nearly as interesting as the fact that a large Zuul—one nearly as tall as Rex—crouched in the direct center of the room, holding perfectly still despite the zero G. If he made micro corrections to hold his place, even Drake couldn’t see them.
“The pack arrives.” The Zuul straightened and barely shifted his direction. Drake studied his boots, but even magnetic locks couldn’t explain the easy grace and unusual stillness of the male’s body.
His siblings crowded in behind him, and Drake floated free of the doorway, catching himself on one of the few long, low benches in the room. It angled perfectly for his knees, and he thought it would be comfortable even in gravity.
“Listen to my words, and not just your translator. The time has come for you to learn your language, Earth pups.” The Zuul studied each of them as they moved through zero G, finding their way to one or another of the benches. “Kobo Ask’sha.”
The translator gave nothing in response to that, making it easier to listen only to the sounds from his muzzle, though Sonya cocked her head as though hearing something familiar.
“That is our greeting, Zuul to Zuul. I am Sei Isgono Hosh, Isgono of Cho’Hosh, Sei in my clan.”
The translator tried for most of the words, though the clan name and ‘Sei’ gave it some trouble. Drake tuned out the translator with the skill of one who’d long mastered selective hearing when it served him, missing the meaning of the older Zuul’s next words, but following the pitch of it.
“Sei Isgono Hosh,” Shadow said, “I would like to introduce—”
The sound Isgono made was so clearly a negative, Drake’s jaw dropped into a smile. He’d assumed Shadow had brought them to yet another old crazy person—this one having the unique distinction of being Zuul instead of odd-smelling Human—and old crazy Humans tended to love Shadow. They said he was cute. All eyes and sweet-faced.
This Isgono, though he might be old and could still certainly be crazy, had no such overwhelming fondness for his brother. Though he’d still rather be in his CASPer, making the Humans look slow and weak even in their own armor, this diversion be
came more tolerable.
“Rex. Ripley. Sonya. Drake. Shadow.” The Zuul gestured to the correct sibling with each sound, his expression flat, his accent changing each of the names slightly, making them sound…off. Not Zuul, exactly, but not as mundanely Human as they were.
“Ja,” Isgono continued, pointing to each wall. Drake tore his eyes from the Zuul, taking in the images properly.
The wall opposite was a cityscape, he realized belatedly, then realized they all were. If the translator had offered anything, he’d missed it, and from Isgono’s tone and the images, Drake figured these were of a city called Ja, or multiple cities on a place called Ja. The latter, he thought, for each was slightly different. One seemed to be a city made of hills, or hills made of city. In another, buildings spun around the bases of enormous tree-like growths—not as high as humans might have gone, but in a sprawl that didn’t seem to have damaged the almost-plants. The third showed towering waves frozen mid-fall toward a coast, with buildings sweeping away from the beach into what looked like a field of over-tall, thin plants.
Drake missed the next few points Isgono might have made, considering how tall that grass-analogue must be, and how fun it would be to hunt through it. What creatures had Zuul chased, evolutions ago? What did they hunt now, at home? Or did they, with the broad stretch of the galaxy giving them alien, intelligent prey?
“You know our clan,” Shadow said, and Drake pulled his attention back to his siblings and their new acquaintance.
“Knew.” Isgono lifted his face in what they were currently treating as up, closing his eyes for a breath. “Your clan has been considered dead for many years.”
“How do you know who our clan is?” Sonya asked, sitting forward so fast she floated off the bench before Ripley snagged her.
“We have a scent,” Shadow said, when Isgono didn’t look inclined to answer. “Family shares a smell.”