Evolution (26 page)

Drowning … is this what it feels like? Slipping away from the light. Throat burning, wanting, needing air. The pain goes away, though, the farther you slip under. Like falling asleep. That's all it is.

Maybe it would be nice to never wake up.

The water shifts near me, and a hand closes around my wrist. Someone tugs on my arm. I glimpse a pair of red, lidless eyes. Then I'm surfacing, the roar of the storm filling my ears as I gasp for breath. Inhaling until my lungs are full. I'm light-headed.

But I know without a doubt the creature that rescued me is one of the vul.

The waves crash all around me, thrusting my body this way and that, as if they're trying to coerce me back under the water. But the vul doesn't loosen its grip on my arm. It floats easily in the water, paddling with one arm against the current.

A raider hovers overhead, lowering itself over the pair of us. A red light from its underbelly shines in my eyes, momentarily blinding me. The vul lets go of me and I panic, afraid I'm going to be dragged under the waves again. But something lifts me out of the ocean, some force working against gravity. It pulls me up through an open hatch in the underbelly of the raider.

The hatch closes underneath me, and I'm gently set on the floor. I lie there, blinking to clear my vision, shivering from the cold. My safety suit drips water everywhere.

A loud buzzing noise fills the air, reminding me of a hive of insects. I lift my head as much as I can, trying to see what's around me. The interior of the raider looks much like a cargo space in a Core hovercraft, except for one very different thing: There are yellow, tubelike plants growing on the walls. They move slowly in unison back and forth as if a breeze is pushing them around, but the air is still.

There's a clicking sound behind me, making me jump. Two vul have stepped into the doorway. They stare at me with their lidless red eyes. They're towering figures from this close to me, both of them probably seven feet tall.

I try to push myself to my feet, but the pain in my ribs is too much. “I need your help, and your people need mine,” I say. “I need you to take me to the Qassan of the vul—”

A loud hissing noise cuts me off. White gas seeps into the room through a pipe in the wall. It quickly floods the air.

Poison gas.

It touches my skin, and I tense up, terrified it'll hurt me though I know it shouldn't be unbearable. But I don't feel anything. No needles, no pain. After last time, I've built up complete resistance to the poison, just like the Developers thought I would.

I breathe in normally, trying to stay calm. None of the Mardenite weapons can affect me. “I have a message from the Tessar,” I say, steadier this time, pushing myself off the floor. The gas is so thick, I can hardly see the vul anymore. “We need to form an alliance. The people you've captured aren't the ones you should be fighting.”

The vul make clicking and hissing noises, saying something in their language I can't understand. They must be amazed their poison hasn't knocked me unconscious.

“Please listen to me,” I say, taking a step in their direction. A burst of pain ripples through my body, and I clench my teeth, trying to keep from crying out.

The poison is starting to burn my skin. There's too much of it; gas is still seeping into the room through the tube.

“Please,” I say again, taking another shaky step. It feels like there are needles stabbing me everywhere, and my lungs can hardly get any air in, and my mind is growing hazy. “We”—I gasp for breath—“need—your—help.”

When I try to move again, my legs give out and I fall to the ground, twitching from the pain. I'm vaguely aware of my vul captors stepping into the room and standing over my body, making more noises I can't understand.

My mind seeps into the darkness of the poison.

 

27

I wake to a steady buzzing. My ribs hurt and my head is pounding. I'm lying on something warm and squishy—a bed of moss, it feels like. But a foreign plant, something the vul brought over from Marden.

Panic rushes through me as I remember what happened. The poison gas knocked me out. How long have I been asleep?

I try to sit up, but my wrists are tied down. Not with rope or metal chains but with some kind of electric field. When my skin touches it, a light shock runs through my hands. My ribs hurt more when I move, anyway. So I remain lying still and look around the room.

It's barely bigger than a closet, and the plant bed takes up most of the space. This must be some sort of sleeping compartment or hold for a prisoner. There's a round porthole to my left, between the stringy tubelike plants on the wall. Through the glass, I can see we're soaring through the sky high above the Surface. We're approaching the shimmering pink acid shield at the edge of the atmosphere. One of the battle stations is visible from here, a massive hunk of metal floating in space. It looks just like it did when I glimpsed it in the
mayraan
with the Tessar.

Thank goodness
. I don't know how much time I lost while I was unconscious, but at least the vul are taking me to the right place.

One by one, the other battle stations come into view. There are twelve in the fleet. They vary in size, some as big as the Surface city, some half that size. The black shapes of raiders soar between some of the stations.

We aim for the biggest station. A gaping hole in the side appears as we get closer, an entrance into the port.

The door to my sleeping compartment slides open, startling me. The vul who rescued me in the ocean steps into the room, but stops when he sees me looking at him. His gelatinous skin is bluer than the Tessar's, and he's wearing a thin layer of silver armor. Where the Tessar had gills, he has small pockets that look more similar to human ears. My guess is they expand when he submerges in water.

His forehead creases a little as he watches me. The veins running in thin strands beneath his skin seem to be popping.

“I need to speak with the Qassan,” I say swiftly. “The Tessar sent me.”

Silently, the vul moves to the side of my bed. It's strange seeing him—or any vul—move outside of the water. There's an unnatural sliminess to the way he walks.

He opens his mouth, and words emerge through the same hissing, clicking noises his kind make when speaking vulyn. But these words, I can understand: “Do not fight once you are free.”

“I won't,” I say. “I didn't come here to fight you.”

The vul presses a button on the wall, and the electric current holding my arms down shuts off. I rub my sore wrists. “Stand,” the vul instructs.

I sit up, wincing from the pain in my ribs. Carefully, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand up. The vul takes my arms behind my back. I can't see what he's doing, but I feel a pinch in my wrists. When I try to move them, an electric shock runs through my hands. He's cuffed my wrists again.

“I said I wouldn't fight you,” I say.

“It is necessary,” the vul says.

There's a soft bump in the floor. A glance at the porthole tells me we've landed in the station port.

“Now walk,” the vul says.

He pushes me out of the compartment.

*   *   *

We've landed in the strangest flight port I've ever seen. If not for the other transports parked here and there, the room could be a greenhouse. The same yellow, tubelike plant that lived aboard the raider covers the walls in sheets. Maybe it's an organism they're growing for food?

My captor leads me toward a doorway on the right side of the port. Every time he prods me forward another step, I feel a flash of pain in my ribs. But I try not to let it show; I don't want him to know I'm wounded. I'm already weaponless and my wrists are stuck behind my back. I don't need to seem any weaker.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask.

“You will see,” the vul says.

I notice two vul carrying a limp body down the boarding ramp of another raider. It's not a vul—it's a human girl, and she's wearing a safety suit. Skylar. She must've been found aboard the hovercraft after the poison gas knocked her out. The immunity she was supposed to have thanks to the antidote serum didn't save her either.

“That girl came here with me,” I say quickly. “Please don't harm her.”

“She will be put in with the others,” the vul says. “You will join her soon. Do not worry.”

“But you have to let me speak with the Qassan. It's urgent.”

“Patience,” is all the vul says.

I gnash my teeth together. I don't have time to be patient, and neither does he. Once he learns about the bomb Charlie is building, he'll regret moving so slowly.

I wish I hadn't left my comm-band in the Core. I have no way of telling how long it's been since I left, or how many of the fifteen hours have been used up. Here I am aboard a battle station run by the creatures that made Kiel's moon poisonous, who've captured thousands of people from my planet. I'm trusting the Tessar's word, but what if he was wrong? What if those images he showed me weren't even real memories? An itch of fear crawls down my spine. What if the Tessar lied to me, so I'd give his people the information they need to capture the Core?

The Mardenites could turn against me at any minute, and I'd have no way to stop them. All I have is my voice, and they could choose not to listen.

The vul leads me out of the port, down several corridors. These look similar to the hallways in the Core, only the ceiling is more square shaped than rounded. And there's a strange scent in the air; saltiness like ocean water.

We walk for so long, I start wondering if the vul is leading me in some sort of maze, so I won't have any idea how to get back to the flight port. But finally we come to a door where a guard is stationed. My captor says something to him in vulyn, and the guard replies in harsh tones. Their conversation carries on for a full minute. Then the guard steps aside to let us pass.

I'm in awe as soon as we step through the hatch combing. A wave of cool air rushes over my body. The room we've entered is a vast space filled with an enormous tree—the tree the Tessar showed me in the
mayraan
. I only glimpsed it before, and it's much more beautiful realized. Its branches are golden and spindly, and its roots stretch across the floor, which is covered in a thin layer of soil. Leaves that look like silver dust float in the air.

A group of vul stands beneath the lower branches, deep in conversation. The clicks and hisses of their speech echo through the room.

“Hashima,” my captor says as we approach them, and one of the vul turns around. She's the only vul not wearing armor. Her limbs are long and sinuous, a yellowish color that reminds me of mucous, not clear like the Tessar's skin. Her lidless eyes are lilac instead of red, and thinner. Silver robes flow about her figure.

This is the Qassan of the vul, the commander of the army.

My captor bows his head to her, and then words in vulyn pass between the two of them. The only word I make out is
Tessar
. My captor must be telling Hashima that the Tessar is the one who sent me.

Hashima regards me with no emotion. She steps carefully over the roots of the tree, her silver robes rustling about her bare feet. “Who are you?” She spits the words in Kielan. “Why have you come?”

I swallow hard. I doubt she'll give me long to explain myself. I need to claim her attention. “My name is Clementine.” I bow my head, the way my captor did. “I've come here to warn you.”

“Warn us?” Hashima repeats, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“Your fleet is in danger,” I say. “The rulers of Kiel are plotting a way to destroy all of your ships and everyone on board.”

There's a murmur of clicks and hisses from the group of vul standing behind Hashima. She spits something at them in vulyn, and they fall silent. Turning back to me, she says, “Explain.”

I hesitate. Part of me wonders if I should demand to see all the prisoners first, to make sure they're still alive. To confirm the Tessar told me the truth about what the vul army wants with us. But Hashima could easily decide to throw me in with them and not listen to me anymore. And then I'd have no way of stopping the Developers from setting off their bomb and blowing up this station, with me on board.

“I watched you invade us from the sky,” I say. “I know you've captured thousands of Kielans. But there are thousands more still free out there, in cities underground. Including our rulers.”

Hashima doesn't show even the slightest hint of surprise. Either she's exceptional at masking her emotions, or she'd already figured out there were more of us belowground.

“Our rulers are building a weapon that will destroy your fleet,” I say. “It will kill you and all your people. But I have a plan that will put an end to the war and allow you to emerge victorious. I can get your army underground to where our rulers are hiding.”

Hashima is silent, but the hushed noises made by the vul standing behind her tell me this is something they've been looking for, a way to the cities underground. They haven't found either of the Pipeline entrances on their own, not yet.

“Why would you want this?” Hashima asks.

“Because I want to save all the Kielans you captured. That's what I need in return, if you want my help. I need you to ensure they'll be freed.”

Hashima's lip twitches in amusement. “What makes you so certain they're still alive?”

“I know they are,” I say as forcefully as I can. “I know that slaughtering all of my people wasn't the only reason you came back to Kiel.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. You came because your home is dying, and you need our help to save it. You need to restore the balance that was lost. But here's our secret: You don't have to enslave us. We will come with you gladly.”

Hashima studies my face, searching for the lie in my words. She won't find any. “Your lords say this?”