Asimov's Science Fiction: April/May 2014 (30 page)

A woman answered the door. She was Asian like him, a streak of grey running through her long hair. More importantly, the aroma of fish and rice wafted through the door from a nearby kitchen.

Her name is Mrs. Boey. Tell her you have a message from her daughter. Valerie.

"Mrs. Boey? My name is Kai. I have a message from your daughter Valerie."

The woman's expression transformed. "You heard from my baby?" She opened the door, put a hand on Kai's shoulder and led him inside.

Valerie is outside Richmond, alive. She helped you escape. She asked you to tell her mother she's sorry about the argument they had before she left.

Is Valerie alive, Kai thought.

Probably not.

With a crippling knot of guilt in his stomach, Kai told Mrs. Boey her daughter was alive and well, as a dozen people sitting elbow-to-elbow around a kitchen table looked on. Food was already on the table, and after Kai delivered his news the woman had little choice but to invite him to share their meal. The food was delicious; Kai ate voraciously, every chopstick-full sticking in his throat on the way down as he watched Mrs. Boey across the table, smiling, probably eating more easily than she had at any time since her sixteen-year-old daughter left to battle the Luyten four months earlier.

He should tell them, he thought. He should blurt out that there was a Luyten hiding under the church. Once it was out, there was nothing it could do. It was the enemy. It and its kind wanted to wipe out everyone on Earth, and they were
succeeding
—

If you tell her, you'll go back to being cold and hungry.

Kai didn't want to be hungry again. More than that, he didn't want to be alone in the dark, stumbling through places where there might be dead bodies.

"Do you have family nearby?" an old, bent woman asked Kai.

"No. I have an aunt and uncle in Connecticut, but it's too far."

I'm not a soldier. I haven't killed anyone.

It was not the first time the Luyten had told him this.

It claimed it had been shot out of the sky, part of a small contingent of Luyten on a night reconnaissance mission over D.C. The military knew a Luyten had been shot down in the area and they were hunting for it. For
Scout,
he reminded himself. It had asked Kai to call it Scout. It must have been injured in the crash, but it wouldn't say.

After the meal, Mrs. Boey said, "I'd ask you to stay, but as you can see, there's just no room." She gestured toward her relatives, most of them young or very old.

Kai told her he understood, and followed her to the door carrying the leftover food she had given him.

As he headed toward the back of the church, Kai wondered if Scout had purposely chosen a house where Kai was likely to get food, but not a place to sleep. If someone took Kai in, he would have less incentive to protect Scout's secret.

Yes,
Scout said.
I don't want to die. I'm just as afraid to die as you are.

"Why are you doing this to us?" Kai whispered, although there was no one to hear him—the street was cold and empty, the orange glowlights along the sidewalk his only guide in the darkness. "Can't we share the world? Why do you have to have it all to yourselves?"

We would have done that gladly, but we know your minds. Do you really think your kind would have taken us in as refugees? They won't even take you in.

Kai pulled open the grate leading to the church's basement and dropped the food Mrs. Boey had given him into the darkness.

Wake up.
Scout's message was deafening, like an alarm set too loud.

Kai lifted himself from the cold concrete, looked groggily into the street, where mist crawled close to the pavement. "It's the middle of the night."

Soldiers are coming with spotlights. Hide in the bathroom.

Still half asleep, Kai gathered the towels and blanket he'd pilfered from an apartment using a key hidden by its owner and hurried into the bathroom.

A few minutes later Kai heard the purr of engines. Two all-terrain crawlers rolled past, flashing spotlights as soldiers scanned the buildings with night glasses. Kai pulled the bathroom door closed.

"How do they know where to find you?"

My heat signature. I have a baffle, but I can't run it all the time.

"Why not?"

The crawlers purred away. Kai wondered if Scout was debating whether to trust him. He wondered if it should.

I trust you now. But after I leave, or I'm killed, you'll tell your people what you've learned about me. If I'm gone, probably they won't believe you. But if I'm caught, they will.

Kai immediately thought to lie, to claim he wouldn't tell. Then he caught himself, remembered lying was impossible.

Talking to you was a betrayal of my kind. I feel deeply ashamed. I was alone, in terrible pain. I was afraid to die.

Was Kai betraying his kind, by keeping Scout's secret? He was sure he was, although it wasn't as if Scout was a threat, hiding under a church, cut off.

To answer your question, I'm almost out of power. That's why I can't run the baffle all of the time.

Kai had gotten accustomed to the sensation of Scout speaking in his head. It wasn't as unpleasant as it had been at first. It reminded him of how he'd grown to like hot sauce on his chili. The first time he'd tried hot sauce it had been awful, burning his tongue and lips, making his eyes water. But the stinging had grown pleasant.

When he pictured where the voice was coming from, though, when he pictured that giant starfish crawling around under the church...

That made him dizzy with fear. "I don't understand why you don't just sneak out of the city, if you know where everyone is."

I am large, and a novel sight. I can't evade the eyes of every person who might look out their window.

That made sense. "So how will you ever escape?"

Unless one of my kind enters my range so I can contact it, I won't.

It was morning when Scout woke him again.

They're coming back. More of them. Many more.

Kai peered out at the rectangle of street visible from his sleeping spot, at the passing vehicles, the faded pod-style apartment complex across the street. "Will they find you?"

Yes, probably. You should get away now, before they come. Otherwise they might question you about what you've seen or heard. Their eyegear is equipped with vocal stress-detectors, so they'll know you're lying. I don't want you to get in trouble because you were kind to me. Go now, through the back.

Kai gathered up his bedding and ran out through the back side of the bay, into waist-high milkweeds that choked the space between the garage and the building behind it.

The telltale whisper of an ultralight copter grew louder as Kai pushed onto the sidewalk and turned right, up a hill.

You should feel proud,
Scout said.
We should both feel proud. We were kind to each other, despite everything. I'm not ashamed to call you my friend.

A line of army crawlers appeared at the top of the hill, the crawlers' legs tucked, their big wheels spinning.

Kai watched them pass, his emotions in a tangle. He would miss Scout, would miss its company at night, but he was also relieved to be getting away. He wanted to be free of the terrible guilt that he was betraying his people, although he would probably always feel guilty for consorting with the enemy. What would people think, if they found out?

Kai heard shouted orders. A moment later a squad of soldiers trotted around the corner. Head down, he pressed close to the buildings to let them pass. They were young, but not kids. Soldiers in their prime. There weren't many of them left.

What if a soldier asked him directly if he'd seen or heard anything? Would he lie to protect Scout? Scout probably knew the answer to that better than Kai did.

Maybe that was why Scout told Kai to leave, not out of concern for him, but because Scout was afraid Kai would betray it.

That's not true. I'm trying to protect you.

Down the hill, Kai could see the church, had a partial view beyond the fence, into the garden. Two soldiers were in there, but they didn't seem to know where to look. Scout's baffle must still be working.

I'm using the last of my power reserve to operate it. It won't last much longer, but maybe long enough.

One of the soldiers was a woman. Asian. It could be that woman's daughter. What was her name? Valerie. If those two soldiers went into the basement, would Scout kill them?

I'm not a soldier. I'm not a fighter.

Kai would, if they were Luyten, coming to kill him. In an instant.

He took a step toward the church, then hesitated. What should he do? Both choices seemed wrong.

He closed his eyes, pictured his mom. What would she want him to do? What she would want was what he should do.
You don't throw away friends,
she'd told him once. But wasn't it wrong to be friends with a Luyten in the first place? They'd killed her, and Dad too.

Opening his eyes, he headed down the hill, toward the church.

Kai, please. Don't. I just want to go home. I just want to see my mother. Now that I know you, I could never help them.

As Kai pushed through the gate, the soldiers turned, their weapons pointed at the ground.

"Go back to your home—" the Asian soldier started to say.

"It's in there," Kai said, pointing at the church. "In the cellar." Both soldiers were suddenly wide-eyed alert.

They'll kill me. Please. They'll burn me.

"You
saw
it?" the other soldier, a black man, said.

"I—" Kai struggled to describe how he knew. "I heard it."

We're friends.

The Asian soldier was babbling into her comm, repeating what Kai had just said, then giving their location.

"Promise you won't hurt it. It's just a scout—not a soldier."

The two soldiers gawked at Kai like he was nuts, as a dozen others stormed through the gate.

"The cellar?" a gray-haired soldier called as they ran by.

"That's what the kid says."

They threw open the hatch, and soldiers poured down the steps.

They're coming. I'm scared, Kai. I'm so scared.

Kai bolted toward the church. "
Don't hurt it."

Why?

There were urgent shouts in the cellar, a sudden roar, a hot orange flash.

It burst through the open hatch into the bright sunlight like a monster from a nightmare. It was on fire, the flames growing higher as it fed them with fresh air, a great starfish galloping through the garden.

The soldiers in the garden peppered it with weapon fire until black blood was pouring from a dozen wounds. Kai screamed at them to stop, his shouts drowned out by the roar of the flames, the crackle of the weapons, and Scout, screaming in his mind.

As Scout finally lost his footing and rolled to the grass, Kai noticed that one of its limbs was missing. Ragged sutures ran across the stump. Scout must have lost the limb in the crash, then sewn it up while lying under the church.

Kai sobbed uncontrollably, babbling, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"What the hell is the matter with you?" one of the soldiers asked. They were staring at him, looking confused, disgusted.

"You didn't have to kill it. It was hurt, and it was just a scout, not a soldier."

"Maybe we should have read it its fucking rights," the soldier said.

Kai looked at the thing smoldering on the ground. He swallowed, wondered if he'd done the right thing, wondered if his mother would be proud.

Fran Wilde is an author, programmer, and technology consultant. She's worked as a science and engineering writer, a sailing instructor, a game developer, and a jeweler's assistant. Her first novel is forthcoming from Tor in 2015, with two more to follow. Fran's short stories have appeared in
Nature
and
The Impossible Futures
anthology, while her nonfiction interviews with writers have appeared under the banner "Cooking the Books" at
Strange Horizons,
the SFWA blog, and at
franwilde.wordpress.com.
In her first story for
Asimov's,
life on a penal planet stings...

Diana Rios swore she'd put the next stung brigger who entered her garrison med tent out of their misery with her bare hands.

"What possessed you to put a live wasp in your mouth, Jersey?" she asked, before tearing an antihistamine pen cap off with her teeth.

"Ith wath a beth! Ow!"

"Get over it. I'm not your mother." Rios spat the spent cap with its plastic taste into the trash and handed Jersey a freezpak. Four more briggers waited their turn on the bench by tent's flap, shaved heads bowed, stings and bites on their faces and hands. Another dragged fingernails across angry red welts on his left arm.

"Bet or no, you could have lost big time." She glared at them all, then pointed behind her to where Kuo's body lay. A brigger had carried Kuo to Rios's tent already dead, throat swollen shut. Claimed Kuo had swallowed a sentinel wasp by accident. Then two more briggers showed up, stung. Then Jersey. All still living. For now.

"Ith wathnt mah fault," Jersey said.

"Who, then?" Someone had removed a batch of the garrison's wasps from the vespidary. Someone had dulled them with smudges, then handed them out to waiting briggers.

Jersey shrugged. Wouldn't say. The others kept their eyes on the floor. In the silence, a high-pitched buzz ended in a yelp, then a stamp and a crackle. On the bench, Deece, the brigger with the welts, lifted his boot to look at the broken yellow and black body, the pulped wings.

"Captain Bilt offered extra rations for tips on who's starting these bets," Rios said.

No one moved. Jersey curled up on a cot with his back to Rios. He was Lefevre's man, and Lefevre lived to gamble. Called herself the garrison badass.

Two weeks left on the exoplanet, the final crew after hundreds of two-year deployments, and these briggers seemed determined to screw things up. Rios hoped someone would break if the reward was sweet enough. "If not rations, then extra R-and-R when we leave E-17," she said.