by R H Nolan
Herk pointed at the controls. “That lever makes it go, the wheel steeers it, that’s for altitude, and the pedal on the floor stops it. Why?”
“Because we need to ditch these things far away from here. Me and Ayla can go ditch them, then I’ll carry her back on my skates. No tracks fort hem to follow.”
“Why don’t we just let them fly off into the desert by themselves, with no one onboard?” Lyra asked.
Max paused. “…we can do that?”
“Yes!”
“But then we’re getting rid of our only means of transportation,” Ayla pointed out.
“Like I said before,” Herk pointed out, “I don’t think we’re going back home, not after what we found. And I doubt there’s anything out there.”
The big guy pointed out into the desert.
“Yeah, there’s nothing for hundreds and hundreds of miles,” Max confirmed.
“Then it’s settled. Get down, Max.”
Max jumped down, and Herk set the skiff in motion as he stood next to it on the ground. Ayla did the same, then jumped off.
Both skiffs sped off riderless into the endless desert.
The kids all watched them disappear amongst the dunes.
Herk shook his head. “I hope your Bug is okay with unexpected guests.”
So did Max.
He jumped into the open pod and waited for the others. They followed warily, crowding together and waiting tensely for the door to close. Then they were moving, down towards the starship. Max thought the ride had never taken so long.
“I can’t believe that actually happened,” Ayla whispered.
Max knew she wasn’t talking about sending the skiffs off into the desert.
“You have to believe it,” Herk said. “You’re not still gonna try to defend him, are you?”
Herk was talking about her uncle, the governor. And the horrors they had seen in the lab.
And the man setting those horrors loose on them and the scientists.
Ayla slowly looked up to meet his gaze, and the rising color in her cheeks was startling after her she’d been so pale for so long.
“No. There’s nothing left to defend.”
Then she looked at Max, who surprised himself by reaching out to put a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he said. The words felt so inadequate, they stuck in his throat.
“For what?” Ayla stared at him, her eyes wide with something that looked like complete trust.
That was new for him, and he fought not to look away from her.
“For getting you caught up in this.” Max glanced at each of the others. “All of you. I shouldn’t have asked for your help. I just… I had no idea how dangerous it was going to be.”
“Yeah, but we did,” Herk said. “I mean, we didn’t know about the Sandwalkers and the Sca—”
Herk paused, like he was afraid to give offense.
“…your people that Saris abducted. But we’ve known for a long time that there was something seriously wrong. Now we know exactly what it was.”
“We wouldn’t have come with you if we didn’t want to help,” Lyra added. “And I’m pretty sure none of us would still be here if you hadn’t helped us. Who knows? Maybe we would have found out anyway. Maybe Saris would have let something slip to Ayla, or Trox’s—”
She stopped speaking, and her flickered over to Trox, who stood facing the wall of the pod with his hands thrust deep into his pockets.
They all stared at the kid, though Max imagined the others tried just as hard as he did not to stare. They’d seen so many awful things in the last few hours, but Trox had watched his own dad die right in front of him on the lab floor. It was like he’d retreated into his own silent world of shock and grief.
As if he’d just suddenly woken up, Trox’s head jerked to the side, then up toward the pod’s ceiling. Slowly, he turned away from the wall and took in the small space, which felt even smaller now with all five of them inside it.
“What is this?” he asked.
Trox didn’t sound confused or worried; he sounded like he was waking from a dream.
“It’s a pod,” Max said.
“A Bug pod?”
“Well… yeah.”
Trox shrugged. “Okay.”
Then he went back to starting at the wall.
Max caught the small frown on the others’ faces, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. At least Trox was talking again—for now.
The pod came to a gentle stop, and the door slid open into the Qirinian ship. Max stepped out first, and the others followed him warily, staring at their odd surroundings.
When everyone stood with him in the ribbed, organic corridor, he started walking.
“How many times have you been here, exactly?” Ayla asked, her voice sounding even quieter now in the empty corridor.
“A couple times,” Max said.
“Did you build that tunnel?” Herk’s prosthetic foot clinked against the floor with every step.
“No, the pod did it.” Max realized it sounded pretty ridiculous unless they’d actually seen it, but they’d all seen things today that had seemed wildly impossible before. “Qirinian technology can do some crazy things.”
“Your… friend knows we’re coming…right?” Lyra asked, then swallowed nervously.
Max hadn’t heard anything from Zryk since he’d met the rest of Ayla’s friends. He might have thought the Bug had lost communication, but he already knew Zryk could speak to him inside Neo Angeles. Plus, the pod wouldn’t have been there waiting for them—all of them—if Zryk didn’t want anyone but Max down here.
“I’m pretty sure he does.”
It worried him a little that Zryk hadn’t made contact yet, though.
Had something happened to him?
Or was this the Bug’s way of showing disapproval that Max had altered the plan?
When he reached the entrance to the stasis chamber, Max stepped into it slowly. There wasn’t really anything to say that could prepare his friends for what they were about to see, but a gentle introduction might help.
It was impossible not to see Zryk standing in the center of the huge room, working over the main computer beside the broken stasis tubes. As soon as Max stepped inside, the Bug spun around and widely spread both pairs of arms in greeting.
“I am pleased to see you return, Max.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“You too, what?” Herk asked, frowning at Max.
Max gestured toward Zryk, and only then did the tall kid seem to notice the Qirinian standing before them.
“What the—!” Herk staggered backward and gripped Ayla’s upper arm—maybe to caution her, maybe to reassure himself that all this was real.
Ayla drew in a long, awed breath. “Is that…?”
“Yeah, this is Zryk,” Max said. They seemed to be taking it fairly well, so far.
“Greetings, friends of Max.”
Apparently the alien had tapped into their implants, too, because all four kids acted like they were freaking out.
Ayla raised her hands to her ears, Lyra froze mid-step and stared around in terror, Trox dropped into a crouch, and Herk reeled with a shout of surprise, his metal foot clomping heavily on the floor.
Max winced, thinking that definitely hadn’t been the best way for Zryk to introduce himself.
Ayla turned to look at Max with wide eyes, and he shrugged. “You get used to it.”
“I don’t want to get used to it!” Herk replied vehemently. “No way am I getting used to it! I do NOT want anybody’s voice in my head but mine!”
Max couldn’t blame the guy for freaking out a little. Max had been almost as surprised when Zryk started doing it, and that was after he’d gotten used to the alien speaking to him through the—
That was it!
“Zryk—” he started.
“Have I offended?” Zryk asked, letting out a series of low, slow clicks.
“What’s it doing?” Lyra asked, f
rightened.
Max realized Zryk must have spoken only to him this time. He lifted a hand to reassure the others, hoping they wouldn’t bolt.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I promise.”
Then he walked across the chamber toward Zryk.
“Max…?” Ayla called out, sounding completely terrified now.
“It’s okay, it’s fine,” he reassured her, then turned back to Zryk and spoke aloud. “You tapped into their implants, right?”
“Correct.”
“WHAT did he do to our implants?!” Lyra cried out.
“It’s FINE,” Max said, then turned back to Zryk. “It’s just a little too much for them right now. Does that voice box you made still work?”
“Yes, but would it not be more efficient to simply speak to them through their—”
“Just trust me on this one.”
Zryk let out a few more clicks, and one of his rear arms bent forward toward his shoulder to activate the small black device he’d created just so he didn’t have to type every sentence through the computer.
“As you wish.” The voice was plainly audible, and there was no longer a voice inside Max’s head. He was hoping it was the same for his friends.
“Oh my God,” Ayla whispered, and backed away. The others took a few steps along with her, all of them terrified—even Trox, which was maybe a slight improvement over his previous shell-shock.
Zryk spread all four arms and bowed as low as his carapace would allow. “I apologize, friends of Max, if I caused you any fear or pain. I merely wished to welcome you here.”
Max finally reached the main computer beside Zryk and slipped off his pack. He briefly noted the large assortment of fruit resting on another tray at the far end of the computer. When it was safe for him to go home, he’d take those with him too.
The stasis chamber fell uncomfortably quiet, so he turned around to look at the others. None of them had moved an inch, and they all stared at Zryk in frozen disbelief.
“Come on, guys,” Max said, trying to smile as he waved them forward. “I promise he doesn’t bite.”
“I do not possess teeth,” Zryk added. “Merely pincers.”
Glancing up at the alien, Max slowly shook his head. “I don’t think that’s helping.”
Zryk hissed in Buglike laughter. “Also, I do not eat humans.”
A nervous laugh escaped Max as he scanned the startled, uncomprehending faces of the other kids.
“If you trust me,” he said, “you can trust Zryk too. We’re helping each other.”
Trox surprised everybody by walking across the chamber first.
“I guess everybody needs help sometimes,” he said. “Even Bugs.”
“I am not a bug. I am Qirinian.”
“Oh.” Trox stopped and studied the alien’s ten-foot-tall, insectile body. “Right.”
Max didn’t want to pressure the others. They would eventually warm up to Zryk… he hoped.
He reached into his pack and pulled out the intricately carved—or Qirinian-crafted—emergent. Max held out the rod. “Here you go.”
Zryk tipped forward in something like a bow and reached out his hands to take the emergent. “I cannot fully express my gratitude for this. You have witnessed for yourself the dangers of such technology falling into the wrong hands. This is something my people have always feared.”
“Yeah, it… it wasn’t pretty.”
That was an incredible understatement, Max knew, but he didn’t need to explain anything about what they’d seen in the labs. He knew Zryk had seen the whole thing through his connection with Max’s implant.
“Why didn’t you talk to me when I was in the city?” Max said.
Zryk looked at him with something like surprise. “The last time you spoke to me directly, you said, ‘Not a good time, Zryk.’ Then when I spoke to you again directly several minutes later, you did not answer. I thought that you did not wish my input further while you were in the city.”
Max thought back to his last interaction with Zryk and frowned. “I don’t remember what you’re talking about.”
The Bug hit a button on its computer console, and suddenly the room was filled with a holographic image of Ayla’s confused face looking directly at him.
Max heard his own voice from the recording, along with a chuckle. “Whoa, slow down a second. He didn’t try to eat me, and I didn’t even—”
The holographic Ayla’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Wait—‘him’?”
Max’s eyes grew wide.
He was looking at his own memory.
Ayla realized it, too.
“Wait!” she said, astounded. “That’s—!”
The recording continued before she could finish.
“Yeah. His name’s Zryk. He’s really friendly.”
Another voice spoke up in the audio feed: Zryk’s.
“That is nice of you to say, Max.”
Suddenly the hologram disappeared, and the real-life Zryk turned to look at Max. “When you did not respond, I surmised that you did not wish further communication.”
Max felt a slight flush of embarrassment. Zryk had been kind and complimentary, and Max had just cold-shouldered him.
“Sorry, it just… it wasn’t a good time for me to talk back to you,” Max muttered.
“I understand,” the Bug said gently. “However, that is why I did not speak to you again.”
“…oh. Okay. I’ll, uh… I’ll speak to you first if I need you in the future.”
Chastened, Max watched as the Qirinian turned toward the main computer and typed a few commands in the beams of light shining from the console.
The computer’s surface morphed, growing like the walls had when they opened into the escape pod, building itself up into what looked like a Bug version of an Earth ship’s energy-core cylinder.
Max heard Trox approach behind him. Max looked over to see Trox staring in wonder at the shifting, moving, biomechanical surface.
At least he was coming out of his shock. That was good.
Max waited for the computer to reabsorb the cradle and the emergent before asking his next question.
“Zryk, the Sandwalkers… I got way more Soul Points from the ones in the lab than any other mutant or human. You saw that, right?”
“Indeed.”
“Do you know why?”
“Those particular Sandwalkers received a distorted and incomplete application of the emergent’s energy. This was merely an errant attempt to recreate the same evolutionary advantages you received within this ship’s energy chamber. The attempt was crude, but the creatures evolved nonetheless. Any evolved lifeform, and I use this term loosely, provides a greater number of Soul Points. Many of the Sandwalkers you saw today had also reached a higher level of evolutionary powers, much like yourself, Max.”
“But… that means…”
Max was starting to feel sick now, mostly because he thought he already knew what the Qirinian was going to say.
“It means that killing a higher-level lifeform will gain you even more Soul Points and bring you that much closer to the next stage of your powers.”
“Like Level Five now,” he whispered.
“Yes.”
“Okay,” Trox said, and Max jumped; he’d forgotten the kid was standing right there with them. “So Max got more powers by killing the Sandwalkers?”
Max was a little astounded. It was the first anybody in the group had directly addressed Zryk.
The Bug didn’t seem in the least bit surprised as he answered Trox. “Technically, he harvests energy that fuels cellular evolution, which leads to his gaining new powers at specific intervals.”
“Oh… okay,” Trox said.
Max noticed that the others seemed to have been emboldened by Trox. They were slowly creeping across the room, warily watching Zryk as they approached.
The Qirinian addressed them all. “I must thank you all as well for guiding Max into the laboratory and facing what you did. Especially you, Trox, wit
h what happened to your father.”
The boy’s eyes misted up, and he looked like he was on the verge of crying.
Zryk reached out one hand towards Trox, then drew it back as though he was not sure what the correct action was he should take. “I am very sorry, I did not mean to cause offense.”
Trox sniffled and wiped his face with the back of his hand. “You didn’t. I’m… it’s okay.”
Zryk looked around the group. “Again, I am sorry. I imagine none of it was easy for any of you.”
“Easier now that we know the truth,” Herk said.
Max saw the regretful glance the much larger kid shared with Ayla.
Ayla looked away from Herk, then stared up at Zryk.
“That thing you asked Max to get for you,” she said and narrowed her eyes, as if she couldn’t believe she was talking to an alien nobody thought still existed. “What does it do?”
“It powers the ship,” Max replied, then glanced at Zryk. “Doesn’t it?”
“Yes. It also generates the same energy that activates genetic evolution in your species.”
“Like Max’s powers,” Ayla added.
“Wait.” Herk squeezed his eyes shut and frowned, like he was trying to solve some complicated equation in his head. “You’re saying the thing that gave Max those powers is the same thing that turned the Sandwalkers into what we saw in the lab?”
“In essence.” Zryk spread his front arms in what Max thought looked like a gesture of apology. “The humans trying to access this technology, however, did not understand the process or the implications behind it. My people’s energy source was never meant to be harnessed and used the way it was on those creatures.”
“But you know how it works, right?” Trox asked. All eyes settled on him now, but he ignored everyone else and only stared up at Zryk. “You used it the right way with Max, here in your ship—right?”
“Indeed.”
“So you can use it on us. Make us evolve, too.”
“Trox…” Ayla said, raising her eyebrows in warning.
Herk nodded vigorously. “Yes. Please.”
“That would be the coolest thing ever,” Lyra whispered.
Max grinned at their enthusiasm—well, everyone except Ayla’s.
And then Zryk broke the spell.