Hex (38 page)

It's over,
she thought.
Thank God, it's over.

She was wrong.

S
EAN'S PREVIOUS EXPERIENCE WITH HEX'S TRAM SYSTEM had been the journey from the
arsashi
habitat to the one occupied by the
taaraq
, so he braced himself for another long ride. But it took only a few minutes for the tram to make the short trip from the biopod to its adjacent node; it felt as if he'd just pulled off his airmask when the vehicle began to decelerate.

Not that he was about to complain. All he wanted to do, really, was get out of the stinking, ripped clothes he'd been wearing the last few days, take a hot shower, have a meal that didn't come out of a wrapper, maybe even catch a nap. Once all that was done, he might feel civilized again.

And then he'd have a long talk with his mother.

Andromeda sat across from him, slouched in her seat, with her arms limp at her sides, staring at nothing in particular. Sean had never seen her that way before; she looked as if she'd just come through an ordeal even though the physical hardships she'd endured were nothing compared to his own. So it couldn't be fatigue. It had to be something else.

Oh, man,
he thought,
she really was worried about me, wasn't she?

Perhaps she'd made the mistake that had gotten his team into a mess, but she'd also risked her life, not to mention those of her crew, to get them out of it. Sean still didn't know exactly how she'd managed to find him and the others—everyone was too tired for explanations—but he had a feeling that she'd put a lot on the line to do so.

She wouldn't have done that unless she loved you.
The notion wasn't something he particularly welcomed; he had spent the last few years learning how to despise her.
But that was for what she'd done to Dad, and that was a long time ago. This time, it's just about you. And this time, she didn't . . .

Through the window beside him, the tunnel's rock walls abruptly disappeared, to be replaced by what appeared to be another platform. Andromeda seemed to wake up a little; gazing past him out the window, she sighed with relief.

“We're here,” she said, her voice a little more than a hoarse croak.

“That was fast.” Sean forced a smile. “You did enter the right coordinates this time, didn't you?”

He meant it to be a joke, but it didn't come off that way. Melpomene cast him an arctic glare while his mother closed her eyes with weary resignation. “I'm sorry,” she said quietly. “It was a . . . a dumb mistake, and I shouldn't have . . .”

“I didn't mean it that way,” he said, and she looked up at him. “I know it was a mistake, and I”—he hesitated;
oh, c'mon, say it!
—“I forgive you.”

Andromeda studied him for a moment, as if not quite believing what she'd just heard. “Thank you,” she said at last, little more than a whisper. “I appreciate it.”

He took a deep breath. “Look, I . . .”

“Maybe we should talk about this later,” Andromeda said, as the tram glided to a halt. “Right now, we need to get back to the ship and get ready to leave.”

“Sure. Okay.” Sean's knees cracked as he pushed himself out of his seat, his legs stiff as wood. “Where are we going? Back to the habitat you found?”

Andromeda didn't answer at once; instead, she shared a silent look with Melpomene and Rolf. “If the
danui
will let us,” she said at last, slowly rising from her own seat. “They may not be very happy with us just now.”

Sean started to reply, but his mother was already heading toward the tram doors. Rolf started to follow her, but not before he paused next to Sean. “I hope you're grateful,” he muttered. “She sacrificed a lot to save you.”

The chief engineer walked away before he could respond, and neither Melpomene nor Zeus seemed inclined to add anything more than indifferent glances in his direction. Only D'Anguilo seemed willing to explain. “It's not your fault,” he said quietly as he helped Kyra pull Sandy to her feet. “The
hjadd
emissary told us that the
danui
have an edict against one race interfering with another. You ended up where you were by accident . . . but she deliberately broke the rules to rescue you.”

“But don't they know that if she'd left us there, the
taaraq
would've killed us?” Sean reached over to take Sandy from D'Anguilo. Her wound had been cleaned and bandaged, but she'd need a session in
Montero
's autodoc before she'd be able to walk on her own again. And Sean himself could use a few stitches. “I don't think she had a choice.”

“Believe me, she didn't.” D'Anguilo reached down to pick up his pack and Sean's as well. “And I think the
hjadd
know that, too.”

“So what's the . . . ?”

“The problem is that it's not the
hjadd
who make the rules . . . It's the
danui
.” D'Anguilo turned to head for the door. “And no one knows what they'll make of all this.”

There was a circular hatch at the end of the platform. It spiraled open at their approach, revealing a stone-walled room. An identical hatch was on the opposite side of the room; on the other side of an adjacent window was the node's docking bay, with a tubular walkway leading to the
Montero
, suspended within a cat's cradle of mooring cables. Set within another wall was what appeared to be a comp flatscreen.

“Just like the one we came through at Nueva Italia,” Melpomene said. “It shouldn't scan us on the way back, though.”

“Then why is the tunnel closed?” Rolf walked over to the second hatch and stopped before it. “It was open when we left it.” He waited a moment, but the hatch remained shut. He looked back at the others. “Why isn't it opening now?”

“He's right . . . It should open for us.” Andromeda tapped her headset. “Survey Two to
Montero
, do you copy?” She paused to listen, and a puzzled expression came upon her face. “
Montero
, this is Survey Two. Please respond, over.”

“Let me try.” Melpomene prodded her own headset. “Anne, this is Mel. Please come in.” A second passed, then she shook her head. “Nothing. Not even static.”

D'Anguilo turned to the captain. “I don't think . . .” he began, then he stopped, his eyes growing wide in astonishment. It was at that instant that a feminine voice spoke from behind her:

“Hello, Captain Carson. It's a pleasure to meet you at last.”

Sean looked around to see a
danui
standing behind his mother.

He'd seen images of
danui
before. Its six-limbed body resembled that of an immense spider, but its mandibles and eyestalks looked more like those of a crustacean. Covered with wiry black hair, it wore what appeared to be a vestlike garment crossed with several belts. Standing on the other side of the room, the alien was so solid in appearance that its lack of shadow was the only clue that it was actually a holographic projection.

Startled, Andromeda involuntarily recoiled from the creature. “What the hell . . . ?” she began, then caught herself. “Hello . . . I'm sorry, but you . . . ah, surprised me, that's all.”

“Why should you be surprised?” When the
danui
spoke, its pleasant voice wasn't synchronized with the movement of its mandibles. “We were supposed to meet earlier, were we not? Our associate, Sashatasma Jahd Sa-Fhadda, indicated that you were looking forward to our encounter.”

“Yes, we do.”

“Very well then. Let us talk.” The
danui
raised its forelegs, bent them closer to its body. “For purposes of temporary identification, you may call me Jane Doe. You would not be able to pronounce my name if I told it to you. My people have delegated to me the task of speaking with you.”

“Yes, right . . . of course.” Andromeda paused. “I'm sorry for the delay. We had some urgent matters that we needed to take care of. Some of my people—”

“We know this,” Doe said, interrupting her without apology. “Nothing that happens in Hex . . . as you call this place . . . goes unobserved. In fact, it is your conduct that concerns us, and our discussion of your actions will determine where you go next.”

Doe turned its—or was it her?—left foreleg toward the closed hatch. “On the other side of that hatch is the walkway leading to your ship. When this meeting is over, we will open the hatch and let you board your vessel. We also will permit your ship to leave this habitat, just as we allowed it to dock here in the first place. However, you should know that it's possible that we may not allow you to return to your own habitat. If you attempt to do so, you will find that its docking node will not open for you, nor for the other vessel from your world that is in our system.”

Andromeda stared at Jane Doe. “Other vessel? What other . . . ?”

“Look at the screen behind you.”

Along with everyone else in the room, Sean turned toward the flatscreen. It lit to display a cruciform-shaped spacecraft somewhat smaller than the
Montero
, as captured from a stern angle several miles away. It appeared to be a freighter, and since the exhaust bell of its single engine was dark, it appeared to be adrift.

“The
Pride of Cucamonga
.” D'Anguilo immediately recognized the other vessel. “That's Ted Harker's ship.” He looked back at Jane Doe. “Where is this from?”

“The image is being relayed from the same starbridge you used to come here. This ship emerged from hyperspace only fifteen minutes, thirty-two seconds ago. Because our business is still unfinished, we have shut down its main drive and navigation systems until our conversation is concluded.”

“Damn,” Andromeda said quietly. “Harker must have gotten impatient when he didn't hear from us and decided to come through himself.” She turned toward Jane Doe again. “This ship belongs to another captain from my world. I assure you, he means no harm.”

“Even if he did, we sincerely doubt that he poses a significant threat.” The
danui's
mandibles moved a little faster as her eyestalks made a strange bobbing motion.
Is she laughing at us?
Sean wondered. “However, his impatience and your own . . . along with several other unbecoming traits . . . are another matter entirely. They pose a danger not only to yourselves but to other inhabitants of Hex as well. This is what we need to discuss with you before we decide whether to allow you to remain or request that you leave and never return.”

The
danui
touched a band on her left foreleg, and a holographic replica of Hex materialized beside her. “First, you need to know the reasons why we built this place. As Sashatasma Jahd SaFhadda has told you, we did this because our original world was in peril and we had no other alternative if we wanted to preserve our race. We later developed means of interstellar travel, but by then Hex was nearly complete. Because our race has little interest in exploration for its own sake, we realized that Hex gave us a singular advantage . . .”

“You could invite other races to come here instead of your having to go to them.” D'Anguilo nodded. “I'd figured that, once we saw the number of starbridges you'd built and the different kinds of vessels coming through them.”

“An astute observation, Dr. D'Anguilo.” Jane Doe's eyes swiveled in his direction. “In this way, we are able to reap the benefits of interstellar travel . . . namely, trade and cultural contact . . . without having to leave home. We have emissaries in the Talus, but few of my people leave our system otherwise. Yet there is another reason.”

Her eyestalks moved again toward the miniature Hex. “During our continuing effort to forge alliances with the other races of the galaxy, we've developed an appreciation for the fragility of life, the thin margins upon which it often exists. In some instances, races are threatened with extinction by forces beyond their control. My own race was nearly obliterated by a natural catastrophe. The homeworlds of the
taaraq
and the
nord
, among others, were destroyed by the Annihilator. As we understand it, your homeworld has been severely damaged by environmental abuse of your own making, forcing a mass migration to your colony world. There are many ways in which a species can perish, and their options for survival are never easy.”

Jane Doe tapped her wristband again, and several tiny hexagons lit up in bright blue across Hex's surface. “Here, we have provided an alternative . . . sanctuaries for endangered races.” One of her eyes turned toward Sean. “Corporal Carson, you and your party found one such sanctuary . . . the
taaraq
habitat, populated by the descendents of the survivors of a world destroyed by the Annihilator. There are a few such habitats here, each designed to mimic a native environment that has long since disappeared.”

“And you keep them isolated from other races?” Andromeda asked. “Why?”

“Like the
taaraq
, some were not even aware of the existence of other races until they were brought here. Keeping them apart from others prevents cultural confusion that could be just as deadly as the forces that destroyed their own worlds. And there are many races here about which even the Talus is yet unaware.”

Sean glanced at Kyra, saw the look on her face. She said nothing, but D'Anguilo wasn't as reticent. “Races that the Talus doesn't know about?” he asked. “You mean . . . ?”

“Yes. Races with whom no one but we have made contact. Yet like the
hjadd
, the
arsashi
, the
nord
, and many others, they have been invited to establish colonies here for a single purpose more important than any other . . . to preserve their races should their worlds ever come to an end.”