Symbionts (43 page)

Frequently, though, human warriors would encounter human-built warstriders that had been only partly absorbed… and changed, somehow, by the Xenophobes, their pilots dead, their weapons and armor turned against their former owners. Frequently, the legs would be gone, while the torsos and heads drifted eerily across the battlefield on the blue-glowing halos of the Xeno’s magnetic field, hideous parodies of their original forms. It was as though the Xenos were battlefield scavengers, picking up anything that might be useful and incorporating it into their nightmarish arsenal.

Xenozombies
was the name given to these hybrids.

“Okay,” Dev said. “Hear me out on this one.

“First, our primary target. If we’re going to carry this one off, it’s going to have to be the Ryu. We could annihilate every other ship in the Imperial battlefleet and still lose if the
Karyu
was still able to fight. We could land Katya and her whole regiment of Rangers on the ground, and
Karyu
could wipe them out from orbit. On the other hand, if we can kill or cripple the
Karyu,
the other ships might break and run, and the Imperial ground troops will be ours for the asking.”

“That’s a big ‘might,’ Commodore,” Captain Curtis said.

“Not so big, Jase,” Katya told him. “The
Karyu
will be the flagship for the whole squadron. With their senior officers and battle staff out of the fight, the rest will be uncoordinated.”

“Kuso,”
Ann Petruccio said. “Uncoordinated? They’ll be blundering around in the goking dark!”

Dev could sense the doubt in the minds of some of the people at the table, the excitement in others. He grabbed at the excitement, shaped it with his words, rode it.

“That will be our strategy, people. Cut off their head, and the rest of their deployment is going to die. At the same time, we will employ a new measure of coordination and control within our own force, one that should give us an edge even against a Ryu-carrier.”

“What new coordination?” Hagan asked. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ll be directing the fleet,” Dev said. “But not from the
Eagle.
Instead, I’ll be in
Daghar.”

“Daghar?”
Hagan asked. “What the hell’s that?”

“It’s one of the DalRiss ships. Their newest one, actually, just about full-grown and ready to go.” He looked at their faces, gauging the feelings behind expressions that ran from interest to bemusement to shock. He smiled. “It’s also the place we call ‘Migrant Camp.’ I’m told the name means ‘Joining.’ Actually, ‘Moving toward a joining’ might be a better translation. I was told that that ship, people, is going to be the flagship of the entire DalRiss exodus fleet.

“But first, the DalRiss are going to use her to help us.”

“You, you’ll be coordinating the Confederation fleet from there?” Katya asked.

“That’s the idea. It’ll be like the Xenolink on Herakles again, only this time, I’ll be directing a warfleet.”

“But how does that help us with the coordination?” Curtis asked. “Okay, you’re in a DalRiss ship. Fine. How do you talk to the rest of us? I thought you said the DalRiss couldn’t even handle lasercom transmissions.”

“I’m coming to that,” Dev said. “Now, warstriders are self-contained combat machines, capable of fighting in any environment, right? Miniature space ships, warflyers, if you like, but with legs instead of propulsion units and reaction mass.”

Bailey grinned. “Hell, Commodore. I always thought of warflyers as warstriders with plasma jets instead of legs.” Several at the table laughed nervously.

“Either way,” Dev said. “The point is, we have one wing of warflyers, eighty-odd ships. Captain Bailey? What’re our chances of taking out the
Karyu
with eighty flyers?”

Bailey shook his head, frowning. “Not good, sir. Not good at goking all. If you could work the big ships in close enough to take out most of their PDLs first, well, maybe. But we’d lose a lot of good boys and girls in the process. And you’d probably lose
Eagle
and
Constellation
and the rest.”

“That was my feeling, too. Now, what if we take, say, two battalions of Katya’s warstriders. Two, maybe three hundred machines. We bring them aboard a DalRiss ship, one of the big ones, like
Daghar,
where a fragment of the GhegnuRish Naga is waiting for them. Each warstrider accepts a fragment of that Naga, after we tell it what we want, of course. We then use the DalRiss ship to deposit those warstriders where we want them in space, as close to the
Karyu
as we can get them.”

There was a sudden rush of noise around the table, sharp intakes of breath, the bump of chairs against floor or table, several shouts.

“Christ, Commodore!”

“That’s
nuts!”

“Is he crazy?”

Katya’s eyes met Dev’s and held them, burning. “Dev, you want my people to link with
Xenos?”

“Symbionts,” Dev told them. He grinned. “A three-way combination of Naga fragments, DalRiss cornels, and humans. And here’s the way it’s going to work.…”

Chapter 30

“… so there I was, comin’ in like this, see, and he pulls a wing-over hard to the left but I seen it comin’ and I just slide in on his six, sweet and slick as your lover’s ass. He started jinkin’ of course, but I locked on, got tone, and cut loose. Sweet Jesus, you shoulda’ seen the goker burn!”

—Lieutenant Harriman Douglass

In the ViRdocumentary
Spacefighter

C.E.
2375

Nearly thirty hours later, Katya met Dev in the cargo hold of an ascraft slung from
Eagle’s
belly, the same ascraft, in fact, that they’d made love in once before, just before the expeditionary fleet had departed Mu Herculis. The canisters of organic precursors were gone, now, used up during the passage to Alya or transferred to other storage compartments aboard the
Eagle
as space had become available. The nightmare that had ended that last rendezvous was forgotten now, replaced by the excitement of discovery, and by an urgent, almost frantic passion that acknowledged, tacitly, that this could be the last time.

Certainly, it would be the last opportunity they had to be alone together for some time to come. Ever since Dev had given the final set of orders, both of them had been working furiously to prepare for the return to Herakles, an operation that Jothan Bailey had dubbed “Changeling.” Katya’s troops and Bailey’s flyers all had been briefed, their plans drawn up, communications protocols worked out with the DalRiss.

Next, the First and Second Battalions of the 1st Rangers had been flown to the
Daghar,
where, one by one, they’d met smaller pieces of the huge ship’s controlling Naga fragment. Each small fragment, measuring two or three meters across and massing a couple of tons, had flowed out from the ten-thousand-ton mass of the big fragment at the heart of the grounded DalRiss ship-city and encased a warstrider’s legs and lower torso. Slender extrusions had grown their way along sensor and power conduits and infiltrated the entire internal system of each warstrider; a physical link with the pilot provided communications—and the new means of coordination Dev had been looking for.

At the same time, the DalRiss city that the humans had known as Migrant Camp was breaking up, the thousands of mobile buildings and their DalRiss parasite-occupants moving well back from the starfish-shaped mountain of the city-ship. When the last warstrider was finally aboard and the city completely evacuated, the DalRiss had expended a single Achiever. There was a thunderclap, an explosion of sky-rending noise as the vacuum remaining when the huge ship vanished was suddenly and catastrophically filled.
Daghar
had reappeared in orbit over ShraRish, in company with the human squadron and the growing fleet of smaller DalRiss ships. On the ground, the Migrant Camp DalRiss had begun moving once more, crawling toward a new site, where they would begin growing a new city-ship for their eventual exodus from their world.

Katya, after seeing to her troops aboard the
Daghar,
had crawled through one of the winding tunnels of the DalRiss ship and into
Eagle,
which was being held to
Daghar’s
flank by an extrusion of the Naga. Soon, after completing some necessary planning with the human squadron’s senior officers, both she and Dev would return to the DalRiss ship.

First, though, they found these minutes for each other. As before, the two of them clung to one another in free fall, linked at the waist by the slender tether of the
tsunagi nawa.
Katya had needed this time. Even more, she’d needed to talk to Dev in privacy.

“Something’s changed in you,” she told him, holding him close. “Again.”

“Oh? How have I changed?”

“I’m not sure. You’re more certain of yourself. And more committed to, to the cause, I think. More than you’ve ever been before. But I’m scared.”

“What about?”

“You’re going to be Xenolinking again.”

“A lot of us are going to be Xenolinking, you included.”

She shook her head. “That’s not the same thing, and you know it. The rest of us, we’ll just be touching a small Naga fragment, the one we have on our striders. You’ll be tied in with a big fragment, bigger than the one that took you to Herakles and back. It’s the difference between having a compatch jacked into your socket, and being in full linkage.”

She’d tried to tell herself that this wouldn’t be the same as when Dev linked with the planetary Naga on Herakles. These two-ton fragments she and the rest of her people would be linking with would be nothing like the incredible repository of knowledge and power and memory of a full planetary Naga.

She also knew, deep down, that mass wasn’t the issue. Dev was being transformed by this damned physical and mental communion with the Xenophobes, and each experience seemed to take him farther from her.

He smiled at her, but his eyes were cold and a little distant. “That’s no reason for you to be scared, Kat.”

“I think it is. Not my Xenolink, that I can handle. Maybe not even yours, though I feel like you’ve… surrendered to that addiction you told me about once. No, Dev, I’m afraid I’m losing
you.
These past few days you’ve been, well,
growing.
In ways I don’t understand. Once you were afraid you weren’t human anymore. Now I’m beginning to wonder if you’re not more than human, somehow. The way you know things without being told…”

“… is fundamentally no different from the artificial enhancements provided by our cephlinks,” he finished for her. “Through our links, we have direct access to AI-controlled hardware, to information, to instant communications that we take for granted, but that our ancestors would think was pure magic.”

“You didn’t want to Xenolink again.”

“Hmm. Yeah, I was scared of linking again. But I feel differently about that now. When I linked with the DalRiss ship, with the Naga fragment in that ship, I mean, I was in control. I was
me.
If anything, the larger fragment in
Daghar
ought to give me even more control. Over my surroundings, and over me. And I’ll need it, too, if we’re going to pull this off.”

Daghar’s
Naga fragment was still only a tiny, tiny fraction of the mass of the Heraklean Naga. Still… would linking with it sweep Dev up in the madness that had embraced him on Herakles, that storm- and lightning-torn day when the sky had gone black and a man-become-god had hurled rocks into the heavens, challenging an Imperial battle group to single combat?

Just the name of the DalRiss bio-construct—
Daghar
—filled Katya with unease. She’d learned from Brenda Ortiz that the DalRiss did not have distinctive names for their ships as human vessels did, and their cities were given temporary and changeable names that apparently reflected some aspect of their creation. The human contingent of the fleet, however, had taken to calling the ship by the name of the city. “Moving Toward Joining” indeed! Dev was going to join with that monster, and she was terrified that she would never see him again.

“You know,” Dev said, interrupting bleak thoughts, “we ought to get back. I want to talk to the DalRiss about how many Achievers they’re going to have along in storage.”

He started to fumble for the
tsunagi nawa,
trying to release the catch. Reaching down, she took his hand, moving it away. “Not yet,” she whispered. “Please… once more… once more
now
…”

She felt a flush of embarrassment as she said it, knowing what the words sounded like. She knew, though, that it was not lust that was driving her as she coupled once more with Dev Cameron, but rather a deeper, a more fundamental need untouched by the passion that had brought them together in the first place.

Inwardly, she directed a coded thought checking one part of her implant, a molecule-thick plating of silver, silicon, and gold physically entwined with the cells of her hypothalamus. It was still switched off.

Good.…

She gasped as Dev’s touch sent a burning shudder pulsing through her body.

Chujo
Takeshi Miyagi had been sleeping when an aide called him.

Three days earlier, a mysterious vessel shaped like a
hitode,
a giant starfish, had winked briefly into existence a few tens of thousands of kilometers from Herakles. The vessel had been closely examined by teleoperated probes orbiting in the region, which had relayed detailed images back to
Karyu,
and he was certain that the visitor had been a DalRiss ship. He’d read reports filed by the Imperial Alyan Mission released by Earth and Japanese Military Intelligence, and he knew that Alyan ships could be starfish-shaped, and he knew they could materialize anywhere, just as the first had appeared near Altair three… no, four years ago, now.

He’d also read the reports that indicated the Alyans were hostile, having attacked the Imperial Mission.