Playing God (43 page)

Calm down, Lynn. Calm down. There's nothing you can do until you get back to Base.

Over the sudden thunder of her heart, she said, “Have you heard from Keale's people yet?”

“Yes,” said Neys. “They will be here in about an hour.”

Lynn nodded. She realized she didn't want to be near the t'Therians right now. “I'll go tell the boys.”

She climbed down the ladders, gritting her teeth against the pain in her leg, and her ribs and her hands, and navigated the metal hallways that were grimmer than anything she'd ever seen, even aboard a cheap, short-range shuttle to the sick bay.

Like all Dedelphi workplaces, the sick bay was one big, open chamber. The wounded lay in pairs on hard beds, groaning softly, sleeping or whispering back and forth. The cases of plague or suspected plague were separated in side alcoves that had been closed off by metal-framed windows and primitive filter doors.

The iso-ward at the farthest end of the bay had been set aside for the unexpected Human guests. She could see Arron perched on the ward's one chair. Cabal sat at the head of the wide, high bed, where Lynn had spent the last six or eight hours recovering from the worst of the shock and exhaustion. He had his knees bent and his back leaning against the wall. Cabal had taken off his helmet and gloves, but Arron was still completely suited.

Well, after ten years, it probably feels strange to be out of it.

Both of them waved at her as she worked the wheel on the outer door. She stepped into the narrow sterile area, closed the outer door, and slid open the inner door.

“Are they all right?” Arron asked immediately.

“They will be.” Lynn sat at the foot of the bed and took off her helmet. “I figured if I could make Praeis scream, Theia would come running to see what was wrong, and they'd both know they were still family. It worked.” She folded her arms and held on to her own elbows. Ideas flooded her head as soon as Theia burst into the cabin to embrace her mother. Lynn saw the future, clear and strong and full of possibilities, and she hadn't liked any of them.
There's got to be time to come up with something better. There's got to be.

“You sound distracted,” said Arron.

I feel distracted. I'm getting ideas I'm not sure I want.
She didn't say that. She said, “Well, we've got what might be a full-blown war starting out there. It's distracting.”

“Your people seem to think it's definitely a full-blown war.” Cabal scratched his scalp vigorously. “We're probably the last Humans on the planet. Have you heard anything about when our rescue's due?”

No. That can't be true. There's still got to be time. There's still got to be something I can do to stop this.
Lynn rested her elbows on her knees and hoped neither of the men noticed her hands shaking. “Keale's people will be here within the hour.”
At the most. That's at the very most.

“Then what?” Arron lifted his eyes to her.

“Then, I imagine they'll take us all to Base.”
Where I'll have to stop them from pulling us all out of here.
“Then, we can see about getting you two home, or wherever you need to go.” Arron's gaze dropped until he was staring at the tips of her boots. “What is it?”

Arron blinked and rubbed his hands together. “Do you think you could talk your people into letting me thread through to the
Ur?”

Surprise straightened Lynn's spine. “Why would you want to do that?”

Arron looked up at the ceiling, as if he could see through it up to the city-ships. “Because my sisters are up there making a hideous mistake.”

Cabal snorted. “Your sisters? I don't think so.”

Arron turned toward him, anger flashing in his eyes. “You don't know, so leave it.”

“
I
don't know?” Cabal barked out a loud laugh. “Get the walking Buddha to wake you up, Hagopian. You're the one who doesn't know.”

Lynn didn't move. She just watched Arron stand up slowly. “What are you talking about?” he demanded.

Cabal waved his hand. “Arron, your ‘sisters’ have been planning their little coup since the Sisters-Chosen-to-Lead agreed to the Confederation. They've been using you to find out how Humans do things and applying that information to make this work. Rchilthen Byvant and Ishth have known all about it. I've been running information between the two sides for the past year.”

Lynn's jaw dropped. “You helped them do this! You little …” Lynn lurched to her feet. “Do you know what you've done! You've ruined everything! How could you!” Her voice was high, thin, and strident.
You gave them David!
She wanted to hit him, she realized, she wanted to kill him, but she couldn't do anything but stand there and shake.

“How could I?” Cabal raised his eyebrows. “I'm an info-runner. It's what I do. I get information to people who don't have it. The work here was steady and pretty safe for a Human, ’til they all started shooting at each other and left me sitting in the damn middle of it.” He snorted. “It's kind of funny, you know, all of us had our best-laid plans, and they've ad been shot to hell by the pogos’ pathetic temper tantrums.”

Throughout their exchange, Arron just stayed where he was, frozen, except for his chest, which heaved like a bellows.

“Why are you telling me now?” Arron asked softly.

“Because now it doesn't make any difference. The pogos are going to kill each other, and we're going to go home.” Cabal stood up. “They even invited you to go along, didn't they, Arron?” Cabal cocked his head. “A friendly Human would be very useful when they actually got the ship, as a helping hand, or a hostage.

“You've been used, Arron.” Cabal picked up his helmet and gloves. “And you've been disappointed, Lynn, and I'll bet neither of you wants me around anymore. I'm going for a walk on deck.”

Lynn watched Arron as he watched Cabal fasten his helmet on and shove his hands into his gloves. She knew what he was thinking. He wanted Cabal to be wrong, to be lying. But after everything that had happened, he couldn't quite make himself believe it.

She felt the same way. She sat down, still shaking. She was too tired, too sore, to deal with any of this. Her head had begun to ache with a dull insistent throb.

While they watched, Cabal worked the filter door and walked out. Arron crumpled into the chair and bowed his head until it rested in his hands.

The sight shook Lynn out of her own fears. She touched his shoulder. “I'm sorry.”

He looked up at her and she saw his face looking fierce and lost at the same time. “It wasn't true,” he said. “None of it was true.”

“No,” said Lynn, without asking what he meant. “But it'll be all right.” As she spoke, conviction solidified inside Lynn's soul. “We're going back to Base, and I'm going to put an end to this mess.”

Chapter XVII

L
areet and Umat stood in the threshold of the open laboratory door. “Irat Queth, Irat Shnun, the light of day looks well on you.”

The irat stood at the far end of one of the Humans’ tiny labs. They bent over a comm station until their noses almost touched the screen. Neither of them wore clean-suits. The first order of business had been to sterilize the Human sections. With the help of the maintenance
jobbers
they had done a good job. The irat had only had to treat a dozen cases of Human poisoning.

After a moment, Irat Queth's ear swiveled around to locate the greeting. She touched her sister's shoulder as if to say “I'll take care of this,” and straightened up.

“As it does on you, Dayisen Lareet and Dayisen Umat,” she said, a little briskly. Obviously the interruption was not welcome.

Umat's ears quivered with suppressed humor. “We wished to hear what progress you and your sisters are making,” she said smoothly. “Have the Humans left us anything useful?”

“The Humans have done some excellent work, which should surprise no one.” Irat Queth walked toward them to draw the conversation away from her sister, who had remained intent on her screen. “The Humans have been studying the vectors of the diseases that make up the plague: How the microbes are transmitted, how they are incubated, what hosts carry them to their homes inside Getesaph bodies.” Irat Queth blinked constantly, flicking her first lid down and back up again in a nervous tic. “As near as we can make out, because they are not sterilizing the
ecosphere,
our world, they are not looking at wiping out the microbes. They plan instead to limit the microbes’ ability to transmit themselves. They want to make it difficult for the
WKV,
the plague strains, to travel, while letting the normal strains fill their niches.” Blink, flick, blink. “Their proposed methods, of course, are not something we could apply ourselves, even if we could fully understand them, but their vector research is definitely something we can adapt and expand on.”

Umat dipped her ears gravely. “Have they given us anything on cures or vaccines?”

Flick, blink. “Quite a bit. Again, they have been basing it heavily on the life cycle of the viruses as they behave in the environment and incubate in the body.” Her ears waved and her eyes blinked excitedly. “What are their weak points? What are the, to use a military phrase, choke points in the viruses’ development?” Her voice filled with a reverent awe. “Their research methods will be even more use to us than the current results.”

“Excellent,” said Umat. “Concentrate on retrieving the vital information. We don't know—”

A pair of runners trotted through the open door.

“Excuse me, Dayisen Rual, you are needed in the command center.”

The skin on Lareet's back bunched up. “We are on our way.”

The command center looked more like a repair shop than a ship's bridge. Consoles had been laid open. Wires and components lay on clean, white sheets. Technicians stood around, talking in anxious whispers like doctors over patients. The encryption team sat around the central table, poring over fat scrolls of paper covered in symbols that Lareet couldn't begin to decipher. The Trindt Brirdth, Wron, Pfath, and Nant, leaned over the shoulders of the encryption team, pointed at various lines of code, and spoke to one another in terms almost as convoluted as the symbols on the paper. As Lareet and Umat entered, Trindt Wron straightened up and came over to greet them.

“We have bad news, Dayisen,” she said flatly.

“Then let's have it out.” Umat folded her hands across her pouch. Lareet saw her ears quiver faintly with the effort of holding them straight and still.

Trindt Wron glanced briefly back at her sisters before speaking. “We miscalculated the nature of the ship,” she said. “Even once we have restored the command functions, there is no way to hold the ship on the course we require by precoding the onboard computers. We might have been able to do it if the
artificial intelligence
had remained undamaged, but as it is, there will have to be a command crew aboard to handle the changes in trajectory and thrust that will be required.”

Umat smoothed a thoughtful hand across Lareet's shoulder. “Well, then, a crew will be found. You and your sisters continue your work.”

“Yes, Dayisen.” She dipped her ears.

“Come sister, let us leave them to it.” Umat linked her arm through Lareet's and steered her to the steel tunnel that led to the city.

Lareet's skin shivered all across her body as she climbed “down” the ladder after her sister. When she could stand up again, there was green grass under her shoes and green smells in the air from the trees and plants. It was evening, and the dome was just beginning to clear to let in the night. She could even hear the river lapping in the distance, under the sound of voices from the command center drifting through the tunnel.

She faced her sister. “Umat, I do not like what I feel from you.”

“I didn't think you would.” Umat took her hand. “But you have to agree, our choices are limited.”

Still holding Lareet's hand, Umat led her down to the riverbank.
She knows how much I enjoy this place,
Lareet thought, but nothing in her relaxed at the sound and scent of running water.

“If the ship will not fly itself,” Umat said, looking across the river, “I must be here to fly it. I will not condemn our duty-sisters to do it for us.”

Lareet stood there for a moment, breathing in the fresh water and green scents. “And where will I be?”

“In a shuttle with most of our sisters, waiting until the worst is over and returning home,” Umat spoke almost dismissively.

Sister, Sister, I know you are trying to spare me, but for once, just once, will you try to feel what I am feeling?
“You promised to be with me when my daughters are born.” She laid a hand on her belly.

Umat's face went instantly tight. “Lareet, that is unworthy of you.”

“I know.” Her ears drooped. “I am sorry.”

Umat took hold of Lareet's shoulders. “I am worried about you, Sister. You are losing track of what we are here to do. It is for ad our sisters and all our daughters that we are here, not just our blood family.”

“I am worried about me, too, Sister.” She laid her hands over her sister's. Her eyes and ears focused on the river. “I am worried about how I look around this city that is as beautiful as a vision and think, ‘What would be so bad about letting the Humans’ plan go forward?’ I am worried about how I think about the t'Therians over in their city-ship and wonder if Scholar Arron was right in some ways. That perhaps if we can talk and reason, they might be able to as well?” She shook her head until she felt her ears flop. “Maybe we should just get this over with quickly, before I lose all mind and will for this task.”

Umat shook her gently. “We are moving as quickly as we can, Sister. Continue to do your part, and we will be there that much sooner.”

Lareet sighed and looked up at the dome. It was a translucent purple, and the brightest stars shone through. It was nothing less than beautiful.

A shadow crossed the dome. Lareet's ears twitched and she looked harder.

“Sister?” asked Umat.

Lareet pointed. It was a small, complex shadow. It scuttled on the dome, heading toward the farside.

Umat's ears fell back. “What is that?”