Webdancers (22 page)

“
Will
you stop pacing!” Coreq said. “My neck aches from watching you go back and forth.”

Looking very nervous, Bashpor slumped into a chair in front of the leaders. Then, not making firm eye contact with them, he continued to speak. “In those long-ago days, the other galactic societies considered our experiments dangerous and unethical—which led to the hostilities. After using their war machines and forcing treaties on us to shut down that phase of our researches, the Blippiqs and Huluvians made attempts to eradicate the entire Parvii race. This proved unsuccessful.” He paused. “But in response to the threat, the Parviis bred at a high and efficient rate, and soon their aggressive swarms wreaked havoc in the galaxy by taking control of the podship race away from the Tulyans. It seems that we caused a bit of trouble in space, albeit indirectly and unintentionally.”

“And we’re doing it again,” Tarix said. “But this time, no one will stop us. We are no longer mere Adurians. We are
HibAdus
.”

“There is one thing more of particular interest,” Bashpor said. “We have long suspected this, but now we have the proof, having followed the genetic markings back in time and unraveled the details: Genetic mutations of the Parviis led to the abhorrent Human race.”

“Good reason to wipe out both races,” Tarix said, causing a long, eerie echo at the conclusion of her words.

* * * * *

Awaiting word from the triumvirate, Woldn felt a change of pressure in the linked observation galleries. He exchanged telepathic alarm signals with his followers. All of them went into a frenzy as those stationed at the perimeters, in the ducts, and at all previously unsealed areas sent information to him. Outside the dome, the sentries he had positioned relayed additional information. With all of this data, the Eye of the Swarm knew the Adurians were making a more concerted and overt effort to seal the galleries and prevent escape.

“We reject your offer of close cooperation between Adurians and Parviis,” Coreq said, his voice booming over the speaker system.

“And I reject your rejection!” Woldn shouted back.

Ever-wary and prepared for this, Woldn knew exactly where the weakest Adurian security points were—and where he should focus the telepathic attention of his swarm. Though not yet at their full mental or physical powers, he and his followers had been growing collectively stronger, and they had telepathic detonators that functioned passably well. He led his swarm through a heating duct system, blasting everything out of the way in mini detonations. Soon they found themselves in free space.

Woldn determined their course for the return voyage across the galaxy. Moments later, at the head of the small swarm, he vowed, “This Adurian insult shall not go unanswered!”

But he wondered who—and what—that odd creature in the laboratory had been. It looked male, as well as part Adurian and part Hibbil. A horrific combination of genes, from the look of it. Certainly it should have been a failed experiment, but the creature looked to be in charge of the entire operation.

Woldn had never seen anything like it. The very sight of the monster had given him chills.

Chapter Forty-Six

Appearances can be deceiving. Despite its bulky, fleshy form, a Mutati adult in its natural state weighs only half as much as a typical Human of the same age. Aeromutatis—the aviary version of the shapeshifter race—are just as light, but have stronger frames, so that they can fly other Mutatis on their backs, generally one at a time.

—MPA autopsy and interview results on Mutati prisoners

By taking interconnected hoverbus and airgrid plane routes, Dux, Acey, and the robot had been able to travel thousands of kilometers, getting them to Xisto, considered the last of the Sirikan frontier towns. In reality, there were other villages and towns in the back country beyond, but they did not have any form of public transportation.

As the boys and the small brown robot disembarked in the central square of Xisto, it was late morning. Dux and Acey had been eating sandwiches and any other quick food they could find, to keep going. Their passage and other expenses were all being paid by the unobtrusive-looking robot, from a compartment full of local funds that he carried. None of the townspeople even gave the trio a second glance; there were numerous other robots on the streets and visible in shops, performing a variety of tasks.

Unofficially, this was a personal trip to see the boys’ grandmother. Officially, it was a military mission, to see if there were any HibAdu elements in the hinterlands. So far, other scouts had found no trace of them.

Acey said he knew his way around, since he’d been to this town before, with Grandma Zelk. “We want to go that way,” he said, pointing toward a dirt road that led north.

They began walking, and within the hour picked up a ride from a flatbed hovertruck driver who talked cheerfully about his ranch and children. The teenagers rode with him inside the cab, while Kekur held onto a railing in the back. Later that afternoon they caught a ride from another farmer, this time on a motocart laden with fruits and vegetables. The people were quite friendly, just as the boys remembered. That night, they slept in an abandoned, ramshackle barn, while the robot kept guard over them.

The next afternoon, they got even luckier. For a modest charge, paid by Kekur, a young woman gave them a ride of five hundred kilometers in her crop-duster plane. On the way the boys ogled the attractive redhead and flirted with her. She had a good figure that she didn’t mind showing off to them. But nothing came of the encounter, and at dusk she circled over a small meadow near a river, preparing to set down in hover mode.

In the low light, none of them noticed a camouflaged encampment on the opposite river bank. Suddenly, beams of blue light hit the wings of the aircraft, sending it spinning toward the ground.

“What the hell?” the pilot shouted.

“HibAdu forces,” Kekur reported. “I am notifying command headquarters.”

The pilot fought for control against the blue beams, and for a few moments she got the craft flying again, on an escape route. Then a blast of light penetrated the cabin and hit her in the head, killing her instantly. Descending, the plane ripped off the top of a tree and then skimmed over the ground, ready to go down hard.

Neither the boys nor the robot noticed a large white bird circling high overhead.…

* * * * *

After the party left, Noah and Doge Anton had decided to send even more protection for them, so they’d told Parais d’Olor to follow, and to do what she could to keep them safe. Now she watched helplessly as the crop-duster plane landed roughly and skidded to a stop. She saw movement inside. One of the doors opened, and the boys tumbled out, followed by the robot. They were on the side away from the HibAdu camp, so maybe the soldiers wouldn’t see them.

Flying in a streak toward the crash site, Parais landed. Except for some bumps and bruises the boys were on their feet and looked all right to her.

“Parais!” Dux said. “What are you doing here?”

“Noah sent me,” she said. “We need to move quickly.”

Knowing she had no time to waste, Parais tore off broken tree branches that the aircraft had snagged, and scooped up chunks of disturbed soil. Then she embraced the pile of material in her wings until it all glowed orange and melted into her body, making her into a larger and darker bird. Gradually, the glow subsided.

In absorbing so much organic matter at once, however, the shapeshifter risked compromising her complex internal chemistry, which could result in cellular damage and even death. Bravely and privately, she accepted the risk anyway, since she needed to carry three passengers on her back. With their dense bone structures, Humans were heavier than the Mutatis she typically carried, such as Hari. And that little robot probably weighed as much as the boys combined.

“I sent a distress call to headquarters,” Kekur said, “with the coordinates of this enemy force.”

“Good,” Parais said. She heard soldiers running toward them, shouting commands to each other.

With the transfer of mass complete, the bird looked like a giant black eagle. “Jump on my back and hold onto my feather mane,” she said.

Acey got on first, followed by Dux and the robot. In the early evening light, all were shadowy shapes on the bird’s back.

As the bird got underway Dux shivered in fear, and from the chill wind that cut through his jacket and trousers. He held onto Acey, and behind Dux, Kekur held onto him. At first, Parais flew low over the ground, away from the troops. Finally, with powerful strokes of her massive wings, she lifted into the sky in a great upward arc.

Looking back, Dux saw spotlights illuminate the crash site. But he and his companions were safe, lifting high into the air where the HibAdus could no longer see or harm them.

“I’d better take you back to headquarters,” Parais shouted back.

“No!” Acey shouted.

Just behind him on the eagle’s back, Dux said, “We appreciate your help, Parais, but we need to check on our grandmother. We’ve come all this way to do that, and we don’t want to turn back now. Please, fly us to her.”

For several moments, the bird kept flapping in the same direction. Presently she asked, “Which direction?”

“To the right,” Dux said, “beyond those mountains.”

She changed course. As they flew past the peaks he had designated, an orange moon rose on the horizon, illuminating the way. Though the air was cold, the mountains were not extensive, and presently they saw a valley just ahead.

“She lives on the other side of that valley,” Acey shouted.

The air was warmer there. Below, Dux made out the simple farms and fields of the Barani tribe, in this remote region where he and Acey had spent much of their childhood. Dim lights illuminated the windows of some of the small homes. But soon he saw that all was not well down there.

As they crossed the valley and passed over a small river, the orange moon cast enough illumination for Dux to see heavy destruction of the landscape, leaving its once-distinctive lakes and gnarled hills barely recognizable. Some of the land was broken, as if from seismic activity, and the stream where he and Acey had fished as boys was much wider now, having flooded many of the homesteads.

Nonetheless, the teenagers were still able to find the familiar ramshackle cabin of their grandmother, on cleared ground partway up a slope. The cabin was dark as they landed in a front yard that was cluttered with old household articles and rusty flying machines.

“Grandma doesn’t like surprises,” Acey said, keeping his voice low. “I’d better go ahead on my own and let her know we’re here.”

“God, I hope she’s all right,” Dux said. He waited with the robot and the shapeshifter, watching as Acey climbed a rickety stairway and rapped on the front door, shouting to identify himself. Dux saw a light go on inside, and then the door opened, casting more light across the cluttered yard.

Dux felt a rush of joy, and ran toward the cabin.

“I knew you were too ornery to get killed, Grandmamá,” Acey said to the old woman, using a Barani term of endearment that she liked, but did not use in referring to herself. Dux caught up to them, and the boys hugged her.

“We brought along a couple of friends,” Dux said, motioning back toward the shadows.

Small and deeply wrinkled, Grandma Zelk squinted to see. “Well, tell them to show their faces.” A superstitious woman who spoke unusual dialects, she had a stooped posture and wore a long embroidered dress with large pockets. At her waist hung a stained pouch, with compartments in it filled with her favorite folk medicines. Despite her years, she was tough and wiry-thin from climbing around in the hills, and had always bragged that she could out-hike any man.

When many members of her tribe were enslaved for not paying taxes to Doge Lorenzo, she was not included, since she hid in the backwoods and survived off the land until her pursuers went away. They wouldn’t have wanted to catch up with the old woman anyway. At her waist she also wore her customary handgun in a holster, a weapon that she called her “equalizer”—to be used against any authority figure who might try to apprehend her.

“One of my friends is a robot,” Dux said. “And you should know that the other is a … shapeshifter.”

“A Mutati,” Acey said, “but a good one. She’s big, too, and flew us here on her back.”

“I don’t trust Mutatis,” the old woman said, her voice a low, dangerous growl. “The robot can come in, but not the shapeshifter.”

Dux hurried back to explain the situation to Parais, who stood with her wings tucked in against her sides. She had grown so large that she was bigger than a Tulyan. “That’s all right,” she said, in a voice that sounded very tired. “I have a coat of feathers to keep me warm. I’ll just find a place out here to sleep.”

“I’m sorry,” Dux said.

“I might not be able to get through that doorway anyway. Besides, I see a nice thick canopy of trees to sleep in, and that’s something I have grown accustomed to over the years, from long flights taken around my homeworld of Dij.” She gestured with her beak, showing where she planned to be.

“We’ll check back with you in the morning,” Dux promised. Looking up, he saw that the sky was clear. Maybe it wouldn’t rain during the night, but surely it would get colder than it was now. He shivered in a slight breeze from the mountains, but the bird didn’t seem to feel it.

“Okay,” Parais said. Her voice was weak and didn’t sound good to him, but he assumed she would be better after she had rested.

He joined the others inside, where Grandma Zelk lit a log in the rock fireplace. As she puttered around, preparing tea, she spoke of the spirit world, and especially of Zehbu, the ancient god who was said to live within the molten core of Siriki.

“Interesting data,” Kekur said. He stood by the fireplace as if warming himself there, though he should not have needed to.

“Some people think it’s a lot of silliness,” Acey said to the robot.

“Not necessarily,” the robot said. “In my data banks I have similar stories from other star systems. Conclusion: Your god is a common legend that might very well have a basis in fact.”

The old lady nodded, and said to Acey, “Don’t make Zehbu angry, boy, or he’ll get you for sure.”

“I wasn’t talking about myself,” the young man said. “I was talking about some people.”

“Well those ‘some people’ better not be around here,” she said. “That’s for sure. And don’t you boys come around here with any foolish outsider ideas.”

“We aren’t, Grandmamá,” Dux said. “We came because we’re worried about you. We saw a lot of damage in the valley.”

“The planet’s got a sickness,” the old woman said. She lifted a teapot from the stove, and poured three cups.

Dux held back saying what he’d heard, that the troubles were caused by something that went far beyond Siriki. A disintegrating galactic web and timeholes. His grandmother was stubborn, and would not take any interest in such stories, except to reject them out of hand. Acey kept the information to himself as well.

“Timeholes,” the robot said.

“Eh?” Grandma Zelk said.

“She doesn’t want to hear any nonsense,” Dux said to Kekur. “Do not speak unless we give you permission.”

The robot fell silent.

“I tried giving that order to you boys when you were only knee high,” the stooped woman said. “Dux, you kept quiet, but Acey—I never could get you to shut up.”

“I’m the same as I always was,” Acey said. “And we’re happy to see that you are, too.”

* * * * *

Perched on a low cedar bough, Parais felt sharp lances of pain all over her body, and a deep fatigue that seemed to draw her down into it like quicksand. Struggling for life, gasping for air, she knew that she needed to find a way to reduce her body mass quickly, or she would die. But she had used up a great deal of energy taking on the additional mass and flying here, and now she felt too weak to go through the necessary recovery steps.