Syn-En: Plague World: The Founders War Begins (26 page)

Her vision shimmered. She wanted to argue the point, but her vocal cords remained still. Many had welcomed death when the Plague stalked the Earth. And she hadn’t blamed them.

“Thank you for agreeing with me.” He checked their readouts before tucking the edges of the blanket around a shivering Karl’s shoulders.

Nell wiped the sting of tears from her nose. “How do you know I agree with you?”

“Because you didn’t sic your fermites on me.” Doc shifted the chair closer to the wall and sat down. “When your atomic pests are up in arms, only Bei’s allowed to touch you.”

“Have you told my husband the good news?” Nell pushed another stool between the two twin-sized beds.

“Nah, I think he’s looking forward to Elvis flying across the room when the Amarook snuggles up to you.”

She knew her husband wanted a little payback for Elvis sleeping on Bei’s side of the bed and drooling on his pillow.

Erin’s eyes opened. She thrashed about and clawed the air, her fingers bulged with excess fluids as her kidneys began to shut down. “Seventy-five. Seventy-five.”

Nell held her hand. “It’s alright. You’re safe.”

Shaking her head, Erin left bits of her hair on her pillow. “No. No.”

“Shh. No one will hurt you anymore.” Nell stroked the swollen arm.

Doc checked her life signs. “She must be remembering her time in the lab. The Founders gave them numbers, not names. She said if they survived the experiments, they received a new number and a new drug trial. She had over a hundred numbers. None of them were ever the same and some contained four digits.”

Nell tightened her grip. “God.”

“I’m sorry, Seventy-five. So sorry.” Erin sank into the mattress. Sweat roped her remaining locks.

“Who’s Seventy-five?”

“Karl.” Doc set his hand on the man’s chest. “They were fraternal twins, but the Founders tried to inbreed them since they survived so many clinical trials.”

Her ears buzzed. The Founders were monsters. Absolute monsters. “Tell me they didn’t succeed.”

He studied his palms. “Neither ever said, but I know she’s been pregnant eighteen times.”

“Good God.”

Fabric swished in the hallway. Davena shuffled into the doorway. “May I help?”

Nell clamped her lips shut, caging the yes behind her clenched teeth.

Doc rolled his eyes at her, but the pinched skin around his mouth loosened when he gazed at Davena. “Yes, please.”

The oracle’s nose wrinkled. Her lips moved but no words came out. Fermites spun around her hands. She glanced from Karl to Erin before setting her hands on the ill woman’s chest. “Is this the Plague?”

“No, the Plague is worse.” Propping her elbows on her knees, Nell leaned forward.

The fermites rained through Erin, made a U-turn, and rejoined the rings surrounding Davena’s caramel colored hands. She frowned. “Worse?”

Doc’s nostrils flared and he hopped off his stool. “Yes, this is what the Founders do to their lab rats. This is what will happen to you if you keep refusing to leave with us.”

Nell twisted on her seat. Maybe she should let the two of them hash this out in private.

“I cannot leave my people.” The oracle drew in a deep breath. The glitter left her petal pink robes and joined the swarm. Fermites misted Erin’s abdomen. They sunk inside her, but none of them stayed. “The Meek wills that they both shall perish.”

Snorting, Doc crowded Davena. “Like the Meek wills that you stay and die just like them?”

The oracle tilted her head and looked up. “The others say that more ETs are coming to prevent anyone from visiting our planet. We shall be safe. The Meek have intervened on our behalf.”

Doc gripped her shoulders and hauled her flush against his chest. He dipped his head until their noses nearly touched. “The others can send a thousand ships. Nothing will stop the Founders from returning, from killing you.”

Nell studied her hands. She really should leave. Really. She peeked at the two of them, so close they almost kissed.

Davena’s chest heaved. Her eyelids fluttered. “You could keep me safe. You could stay.”

Doc squeezed his eyes closed and threw back his head. Tendons corded his neck. He pried his hands off her, one finger at a time. “I have others to save. Ones who want to live.”

Ooh, that’s harsh.
Nell hugged her legs close as he stormed past.

Davena sunk to the floor. Her robes folded around her waist like a flower bud. “He hates me.”

“Just the opposite.” Sliding off the stool, Nell sat next to the oracle. Cold pressed against her bottom. “Would you stand by and not use your fermites to help him, while he chose to die?”

Her shoulders sagged inside her robes. “I would respect his wishes.”

“But would you like it?” Nell set her hand on Davena’s knee. Blue light danced up her arm.

“No.”

“Doc doesn’t like it either, but he’s trying to respect your wishes.” Bei would be irritated at her interfering, but he wasn’t here. Besides, if it helped the two star-crossed lovers, then it would be worth it. “Of course, he’s not going to give up trying to change your mind until the very last minute.”

Davena held Nell’s hand. “I don’t want to refuse him. If I wasn’t the oracle, I would go with him.”

“I understand.” Nell uttered the words, but deep down, how could she believe them? She would move hell in a hand-basket to be with Bei. Perhaps Doc and Davena’s love wasn’t as strong.

Karl flopped onto his side and vomited blood.

The oracle rose to her knees. Her lips moved and fermites gathered around her.

Right, time to try again. Nell sang her theme song inside her head. Her swarm looked anemic compared to Davena’s. Maybe she should switch tactics. “Will you teach me your song?”

Davena froze. “My song?”

“Yes, the one you use to call the fermites, er, Meek.”

The oracle pursed her lips. “Who told you I sang?”

The skin between Nell’s shoulder blades itched. Had she been lied to? “Rayem.”

“Even as an instrument of the Meek, my sire did not lose his sense of humor.”

Nell blinked. “Rayem is your father.”

“Was.” Davena tilted her head. Black curls brushed her shoulders. “He died just as your shuttle passed overhead and the Meek claimed him.”

Rocking back on her heels, Nell connected stray thoughts. Davena had known there would be a test because of the pillar and its results. She’d known about her zombie father and the Meek’s hatred of violence. Yet, she had said nothing to warn anyone, not even Doc.

“Now you are angry at me.” The oracle studied her tapered fingers.

“I’m angry because the odds were stacked against me.” Good God, Nell could have failed. Then Bei and the Syn-En would have died. Add in the fact, Nell had been used like a tissue. Yep, she was a little torqued.

“I wanted to warn you, but I was forbidden to do so.” Davena milked her fingers.

“I understand.” This time Nell meant it. The fermites healed the dead, created zombie pod people, and basically mucked everything up they didn’t approve of. Only a crazy person wouldn’t do their bidding.

“Shall we send them on their journey to reunite with the Meek?”

Nell untwisted the pretzel of her words. No. She couldn’t mean… “You want to euthanize them?”

“Yes.” Davena smoothed Karl’s wrinkled forehead. “There is no purpose in their continued suffering.”

“Yes, but…” Nell tried to shrink-wrap the thought. Intellectually, she didn’t have a problem with such a decision. Terminal patients should have that right. But actually
sending Karl and Erin on the journey
was a whole other stack of pancakes.

Doc appeared with two more syringes. The doses were triple the previous ones. “I’ll do it.”

“You should save your medicines for the living who will need your treatment.” Davena hummed softly.

“Right. Because Syn-En medicine and everything about its use is wrong, because we weren’t a gift from the Meek.” He stormed away.

O—kay. Embarrassment heated Nell’s cheeks. “I’m sorry for that.”

“As you said, he is upset. We were both given a glimpse of a future that was to be shared only to have it denied us.” Starting at Karl’s feet, Davena laid a blanket of fermites over him. Soon, the twinkling blanket covered his face.

He stopped twitching. His breathing evened out. His skin turned a healthy pink and his lips relaxed into a half smile. Then he exhaled and was still. The analyzer flatlined before switching off.

He was dead.

It had been very peaceful. Certainly more pleasant than overdosing on sleeping pills, slitting one’s wrists, or gulping down car exhaust. Maybe Nell could do it.

Davena turned to Erin.

“Teach me.”

“If you are sure.” The oracle wrapped her arms around Nell and stood directly behind her. “Set your hands under mine.”

Nell complied. The scent of wildflowers surrounded her. Fermites gathered in a snowball by their palms then pattered softly around Erin’s body. They crept silently to the dying woman’s head. Warmth and peace blossomed inside Nell’s breast. She was doing a good thing here. The right thing.

Erin smiled as she passed away.

Nell’s fingers tingled as the fermites disappeared from sight. She rubbed them on her trousers. “What are the lyrics to your song?”

“It’s not a song.”

“Then what are the words?”

Davena smoothed the skirts of her robes. “Don’t let me mess this up. Don’t let me mess this up. And sometimes, I throw in a please and thank you.”

Laughter bubbled up Nell’s throat. The oracle always looked so calm, so self-possessed, yet she, too, was afraid she’d mess up. Nell threw her arms around her. “Thank you. I’m glad I’m not the only one.”

Davena hugged her back. “Oracles aren’t supposed to doubt.”

“To doubt is Human.” The air sparkled. Nell glanced down at Karl’s disintegrating body. Soon all that remained were his prosthetic arm and legs from the knees down, a pair of eyes, an artificial pancreas and heart and… A square box. “What organ is square?”

“Square?” Stepping back, Davena turned. “I don’t understand?”

Nell bent over, reaching for the cube.

“Don’t touch it!” Apollie’s shout boomed off the walls. “That’s a Founders’ tracker.”

Nell jerked her hand back. “The Founders knew we were coming to Surlat. They requested it. Why would they track us?”

“It’s not just a locator beacon. You must contact the admiral immediately.” Apollie’s raptor claws extended and her vambraces powered up. “That device picks up auditory data, provides telemetry, and can tap into any computer.”

Nell sucked cold air over her teeth. Such a spy bug could do a lot of damage. “I’ll tell Bei the Scraptors may know he’s coming.”

“Tell them, the Founders know every weak point in his body and, I’d bet my breastplate, the new Scraptor armor was designed to exploit those weaknesses.”

A soft rasp assaulted Groat’s ears. Someone was in the room with him and Tridit. Some coward planned to kill him while he rotted with the Plague. He drew in a ragged breath. Perhaps, he could die fighting after all. He opened his eyes.

The room sharpened in minute detail—the trails in the dust, the water spots on the concrete ceiling, and the sword limb sliding across the floor toward him. No one moved the limb. No one at all, but it kept coming.

Flattening his hands on the wall, he clambered to his feet, kicking at the approaching severed appendage. Toxins flooded his stinger. His armor locked into place but there was no enemy to fight. No enemy to see. Groat’s blood froze in his veins. The ghosts of the mighty Erwar. They were real!

Tridit perched in a niche. His red armor covered his frame, each segment perfectly aligned and shining like flame. Two pinschers levitated toward the empty sockets in his armor. He pressed deeper into his cubby, but there was no where to go. “Commander?”

Groat’s severed limbs floated off the floor. Each soared to the height it would attach to his torso. “I don’t think it means to harm us.”

Sweat trickled inside his armor. Could the spirit of his ancestors be protecting him? Did they, too, see the honor that he could do the family name and their race?

Tridit’s eyestalk bent into L-shapes and faced the wall. The pinscher claws sank into his joints. For a moment, bright white light filled the seams. It quickly faded and left only a smooth surface behind.

That light nagged at Groat’s memory. Where had he heard of that light before? “Eyestalks front. See if your pinschers work.”

He stiffened as his own limbs attached themselves to his torso. Heat filled the joints then a soothing balm swept over him. The light faded, leaving only a seal behind.

Raising his pinschers, Tridit opened and closed his claws. “They work better than when they were new.”

Groat tested his own set. Smooth, even movements. Three hundred sixty degrees of motion. No pain. And no itch. “Definitely better than when they were installed.”

Tridit leapt off the niche. The thud of his landing echoed in the empty, rectangular room. “What do you suppose the light means?”

“My grandsire’s logs are full of old legends. Legends of the light of the ancients.” The old warrior’s obsession had been one of the reasons he’d been relieved of his command and relegated to ferrying cargo to and from Surlat. Scraptors fought, trained, and enforced the collective will. Research belonged to the other Founders. History was low on their priorities.

There was no profit in it.

If Groat wanted to be named Commander of the Fleet, he had better remember that. Perhaps he should seal his mandibles shut. He reached for his oil then stopped. He didn’t need it. For the moment. He stabbed the wall with his newest appendages. Chunks of concrete sprayed the ground. Removing the rubble, he inspected the divot. Three inches deep. His armor worked perfectly.

For once.

“Commander?”

Groat snapped out of his reveries. What would it hurt to tell Tridit? His comrade already pledged himself to the cause. “The legends say the light is a blessing upon those favored by the spirits of the Erwarians.”

“Surlat was the capital of their galactic empire. And the Founders held the place of honor as their favorites.” Tridit clasped his claws behind his back.