Hex (31 page)

“Only one way to find out.” Sean nodded toward the front of the boat. “C'mon, get in. We'll go just a little way and turn back if we don't find anyone.”

Despite her reluctance, Sandy climbed into the bow; she was stronger than Kyra, and they'd need her muscles for the other paddle. Kyra took the middle position; although the gunnels were only a couple of inches above the water, the boat didn't sink under their combined weight. It took Sean a couple of minutes to untie the mooring line—its clumsy knot could only be described as a double granny—but once the boat was floating free, he used his paddle to push away from the tree.

The river was more narrow than the one they'd seen in the
arsashi
habitat. It branched off in all directions, with tributaries sometimes rejoining the main channel after flowing around small floating islands but more often disappearing entirely from sight. The landscape was a labyrinthine swamp, potentially confusing to anyone but its inhabitants. As they followed the channel, Sean carefully memorized landmarks—a particularly tall fern here, a strange-looking weed-tree there—to prevent getting lost on the way back.

The current was with them, though, and it wasn't long before the escalator disappeared from sight. By then, they had company. What appeared to be clumps of floating wood drifted away from the shoreline and slowly converged on the boat until they moved alongside it on both sides. Kyra had allowed one hand to dip into the river, idly letting her fingertips skim across the top of the brown water. The nearest of the clumps suddenly darted forward, and Sean barely had time to shout a warning when a blunt head emerged from the driftwood and sharp-toothed jaws snapped at Kyra's fingers. She squeaked in alarm and jerked her hand away before the creature could take off a finger or two. She kept her hands out of the water after that, but the creatures continued to follow the boat all the same; Sean realized that they burrowed into fallen pieces of wood and used them to hide themselves from their intended prey.

Tall, strange-looking trees grew at the riverbank: gnarled, slender roots rose from the water to support a thick trunk from which oval fronds hung almost all the way to the river. Nearly sixty feet tall, the trees loomed above the waterway like sentinels. What appeared to be eggs floated in clusters near their bottoms; Sean was about to suggest that they paddle closer to examine them when he saw one of the driftwood-disguised predators approach a tree. As before, it swam slowly, as if mimicking river debris, but it was only a couple of feet from the eggs when the tree abruptly moved forward on its roots, and its middle frond stabbed down into the water. A violent splash, a harsh cry, then the frond—which Sean now saw to be an immense beak—rose from the water, the creature impaled on its tip. The walking tree tossed the smaller predator up in the air; its beak opened wide, revealing a leathery-looking maw, then caught the creature on its way down and swallowed it whole, wooden shell and all.

“A mimic,” Kyra said quietly. “An animal evolved to resemble a plant.” She pointed to the egg cluster. “Those are probably its eggs. It protects them and uses them as lures at the same time.”

“I don't care.” Sandy's voice shook as she glanced back at her and Sean. “Let's get out of here. I'm serious.”

Sean ignored her. Something else had caught his eye. Not far ahead, he saw something on the left side of the river: two large, cone-shaped mounds, resembling immense anthills, that rose above the ferns and weed-trees along the riverbank. The longer he studied them, the less natural in origin they appeared to be.

“I want to check those out,” he said, pointing to the mounds. “If there's nothing there, we'll turn back. But I've got a feeling . . .”

“They're dwellings?” Kyra gazed at them. “You may be right. Let's go see.”

“Let's not,” Sandy grumbled, but she thrust her paddle into the water. “Oh, hell. No one listens to me anyway.”

Careful to avoid the walking trees, they paddled farther downstream. As they came closer to shore, they could see the mounds more clearly, and it soon became obvious that Sean was correct. Narrow, ramplike terraces wound their way up their sloping walls, and holes that could have been either windows or doors were spaced irregularly along the ramps.

There was no movement from the dwellings, though, even when Sean and Sandy maneuvered the boat close enough that it could have been easily spotted by the occupants. Along the riverbank, foliage had been cleared away to make room for a wharf. Boats much like the one they were using were tied up at a floating dock, and woven baskets on the beach were further evidence of habitation.

“Maybe it's deserted,” Sandy said quietly.

“Or maybe it's not, but whoever lives here doesn't want to meet us.” Kyra's voice was almost a whisper. “I don't like this.”

The silence of the place made Sean uneasy. They hadn't traveled very far from the escalator, perhaps no more than a mile or two; it wasn't too late for them to turn around. “Maybe you're right,” he murmured. “Perhaps we should . . .”

A quiet splash from the right, followed by a muffled creak. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that they were no longer alone.

So quietly that Sean hadn't heard them, three more boats had quietly emerged from behind the ferns growing along the opposite shore. Within each boat sat three creatures that resembled giant insects: elongated heads with four bulbous compound eyes, two on either side of narrow snouts; chitin exoskeletons covering angular bodies that looked much like those of grasshoppers or mantises; four multijointed arms, which grasped boat paddles within pincherlike claws. Their long antennae constantly twitched as they rowed toward the human intruders; as they came closer, Sean could hear the rapid clicking of their mandibles.

Kyra and Sandy saw them almost the same moment Sean did, and Sandy yelped in alarm before Sean was able to stop her. “Quiet!” he snapped, raising a hand to shush her. “Just be calm. They may not mean us any harm.” But it was hard to miss the fact that the creatures riding in the middle of each boat held javelin-like weapons, or that it looked as if they were ready to hurl them at the slightest provocation.

Another sound brought his attention back to the village. Other creatures were coming out of the mounds. Dozens, perhaps hundreds, swarmed from the holes along the ramps, moving quickly upon four legs; the purpose of the strange steps he'd noticed earlier was now apparent. Many of them carried the same weapons as those on the boats, and as they rushed toward the wharf, the staccato clicking of their jaws filled the humid air.

“This is impossible.” Kyra's voice was low, and her eyes were wide, but she didn't seem to be afraid as much as fascinated.

Sean glanced at her. “Why? Because this place is inhabited?”

“No.” Staring at the creatures, she shook her head. “I recognize these things . . . and they're supposed to be extinct.”

A
NDROMEDA TURNED TO SEE A
HJADD
STANDING BEHIND HER.

Resembling a shell-less tortoise standing upright on its hind legs, heshe wore a togalike outfit embroidered with intricate designs and a translator disk suspended by a slender chain from around hisher long neck. The
hjadd
wasn't wearing any breathing apparatus, though, and it wasn't until Andromeda caught her faint reflection from a transparent pane between them that she realized heshe was standing inside an enclosed booth.

“Greetings, Captain Carson.” The
hjadd
raised hisher left hand, six webbed fingers spread apart. As heshe spoke, the croaks, grunts, and whistles of hisher natural voice emerged from the translator as a gender-neutral, Anglo-speaking human voice. “Many apologies if I have startled you. It was not my intent to do so.”

The hell it wasn't,
Andromeda thought. The
hjadd
had a tendency to sneak up on people unannounced. But she forced a smile as she raised her own left hand. “Not a bit . . . just a little surprised, that's all.”

A long, stuttering hiss from the lipless beak that Andromeda recognized as the
hjadd
equivalent of laughter. “Then you will forgive me for making an unexpected appearance,” heshe said. “I arrived just a little while before you did.” The
hjadd
gestured to the transparent barrier between them. “It gave our hosts time to provide this enclosure so that I would not have to wear an environment suit as my people do when visiting your world. The
danui
are inscrutable, but they are also capable of common courtesy.”

“If you say so.” Andromeda dropped her pack to the platform floor, then stepped a little closer to the booth. “I was under the impression that we were going to be meeting one of them. Instead . . .”

“Instead, you found me.” One of hisher heavy-lidded eyes winked at her. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Sashatasma Jahd Sa-Fhadda, and I am my people's Prime Emissary to
tanaash-haq
. You may call me Jahd.”

Andromeda started to nod; remembering that the gesture had an opposite meaning for the
hjadd
, she stopped herself. “Obviously, you already know who I am,” she said, and Jahd's head swung back and forth upon hisher neck. She turned to D'Anguilo and Zeus. “Then let me introduce my companions. This is . . .”

“Dr. Thomas D'Anguilo, formerly of the University of New Florida and currently an executive vice president of Janus, and Zeus Brandt, your chief petty officer.” Again, the sibilant hiss. “There is little we do not know about your ship or its crew and passengers, Captain. In fact, we have been closely monitoring your mission ever since you entered this system.” Independent of each other, Jhad's eyes swung toward D'Anguilo and Zeus. “Nevertheless, it is a pleasure to meet you both.”

“Likewise,” Zeus said quietly, his tone distrustful.

D'Anguilo tactfully cleared his throat. “The message sent to us . . . Captain Carson, I mean . . . led us to believe that we would be meeting with the
danui
. Why are you here? Are the
danui
coming, too?”

The serrated fin on the back of Jahd's head lifted slightly; a sign of agitation, if Andromeda's knowledge of
hjadd
emotional responses was correct. “The
danui
will not be attending. They have asked my people to act as intermediaries between your race and them, at least for the time being. Whether or not they will allow you to meet with one of their representatives will depend on the outcome of this meeting.”

“Of course. I understand.” D'Anguilo shared a glance with Andromeda. “The
danui
do have a certain reputation for shyness.”

Andromeda wasn't satisfied. “When my ship entered this system and approached Hex . . .
tanaash-haq
, that is . . .”

“
Tanaash—haq
is what we call this world, just as Hex is what you have come to call it.” Again, Jahd's head went back and forth. “Every race here has its own name for this place.”

“Whatever you say.” Andromeda impatiently shook her head, not caring how the Prime Emissary interpreted the gesture. “Our first attempts to make contact were ignored, and subsequent attempts were met with text messages in your language. Are you saying that you've been . . . ah, intermediaries . . . all along?”

“The
danui
asked us to speak with you because our race has the longest history of communication with your own.” Jahd's head rose a little higher upon hisher neck. “You probably would not have learned about this place for quite some time had it not been for the
nord
. They told your people about
tanaash-haq
before the
danui
were ready to reveal it themselves. That is unfortunate, but when the
danui
found out that it had happened, their emissary to the Talus requested that we act as . . . ‘go-betweens,' as I understand your term for our role.”

“So why all the mystery?” Andromeda asked. “Why not simply tell us what we'd find when we got here and what we should expect?”

“The
danui
have their reasons,” Jahd said. “You'll learn them soon enough . . . if they want you to do so.”

“But why . . . ?”

Another hiss. “So many questions, Captain . . . and yet you fail to ask the most obvious one.” Jahd raised hisher left hand again, this time to beckon toward the broad window at the edge of the platform. “What is this place, and why were you directed to come here? I would think you would want to know that.”

“I'm sure you're going to tell us,” Zeus said dryly.

The fin rose again. “So I shall,” Jahd replied, hisher left eye flickering toward him, “but you first must learn the history of
tanaash-haq
.”

Heshe turned toward the window. “Hex is very old,” heshe continued. “By your reckoning, the
danui
started building it nearly five thousand years ago, after a natural calamity occurred within their solar system. The orbit of its outermost planet became unstable because of the close passage of a transient body . . . a rogue planet that briefly entered the system from interstellar space . . . and began to spiral inward toward its sun. The transient is long gone, but the destabilized planet is still here.”

“The gas giant in close orbit around the sun,” D'Anguilo said.

Jahd's head made a sideways movement. “That is correct. Its inward migration began tens of thousands of years ago and was detected early by ancient
danui
astronomers. The
danui
are an old and wise race . . . one of the oldest and wisest in the galaxy . . . and they quickly realized that, as this outer planet began to move through the system, it would perturb the orbits of the inner planets, including their own. In time, massive climate changes would render their world uninhabitable, and their race would perish.”