The Plague Forge [ARC] (41 page)

He lifted his head a bit higher to inspect his manhood. Despite the wounds all over his body, that bit seemed to have made it through unscathed. Russell rocked his head back and … stopped short of laughing. He settled for a smile instead. He’d redeemed himself, hadn’t he? Time to leave his lascivious side behind.

A face appeared within his view. Skyler’s ugly mug. He was saying something, but Russell’s ears were ringing. Slowly the words cut through.

“… medical gear in the ship. Just hold on.”

Russell tried to talk but found his mouth was full of blood. He turned his head with an effort that almost cost him his consciousness, and spat. Dark red splatter on an alien floor. Gingerly, he turned back to Skyler. The edges of his vision were blurred now, and getting worse. Darker. “Weren’t expecting me, huh?”

“We’ll get you help, just hang on.”

“Don’t bother. I’m cooked. I did my bit.”

Then Ana was there, too. Beautiful Ana. Her dark hair spilled over her face, hanging down toward Russell.

He tried to smile for her, had no idea if he’d succeeded.

“Blackfield,” she whispered. “Why’d you do it?”

And there it was. There, in the small patch of his vision still clear he saw the look. The same naked admiration she favored Skyler with every time she glanced his way. No fear, no disgust or hated or suspicion. Just pure, genuine respect. It was every bit as worthwhile as he’d hoped.

He coughed; his vision swam. It took effort to find and focus on her again. “For that,” he said, voice thick and growing weaker. “It makes it … made it all …”

A tear formed on her eyelash and dangled there.

Russell found he could twitch the index finger of his left hand. Then his arm moved. Yes, he could lift it. He whole hand shook as it came into view. Blood dripped away. He couldn’t quite manage the reach to Ana’s sweet, innocent cheek, though. She was on the right and Skyler, damn him, was on the left. Russell tapped Skyler’s arm with the back of his hand and the pilot took it in his own. Gently, as if he might cause injury.

“I ran out of air,” Russell said. “You assholes left me to die.”

“Sorry,” Skyler replied, practically choking on a guilty laugh. He sounded sincere and humbled. “We were stuck in here. I’m amazed you made it to us.”

“Yeah. Tell you all about another time, huh?”

Skyler said something else, but Russell’s ears refused to let the sound back in. A good thing, too. It was kind of peaceful in here. He rolled his head slightly to focus on Ana again.

Her lips were pressed into a thin line now. Holding back grief or something. The little teardrop had tumbled away already, leaving a thin, watery trail down her face.

“We’re moving up,” Russell told her. “The whole building, heading to space.”
Now I’m a fucking poet, too?
He grinned as Ana shot a confused glance at Skyler.

The girl faced him once more. She took his hand from Skyler’s and lifted it to her soft cheek, holding the back of his palm there and letting the warmth seep from her body to his.

He stared into those eyes, lost himself in them even as darkness began to creep into the center of his vision. Russell held her gaze as he slipped into the void.

“I bought the two of you a second chance,” he said. He couldn’t hear his own voice but he could tell from their expressions that they heard him despite the stutters and wet, ugly coughs. “Don’t fuck it up. Vary the pattern. Finish what you came here for.”

“We will,” Ana mouthed.

Russell Blackfield winked at her. Then he died.

Chapter Twenty-Six

The Key Ship

2.APR.2285

Tania’s third trip to the Builder ship began much like the first two. Locked in a tin can, with only one person to keep her company, and a hard case containing an alien object of unknown purpose at her feet.

Her companion was Vanessa again, not Skyler, and this time the object in the case had blood on it. Too much blood, Tania thought, though any amount would qualify. The image of Pablo’s stony gaze seemed forever etched on the inside of her eyelids.

Tim sat above her, in the single-seat compartment where the rudimentary controls were. He’d insisted on handling the job, and she’d agreed without hesitation.

Reports came in at a near-constant stream from Karl and others in Belém and aboard Melville Station.
The exodus from Camp Exodus,
Tania thought dryly. Ammunition dwindled almost as fast as the camp’s population. Every report of a lull in subhuman activity brought hope the worst had passed, a hope dashed each time with frantic and maddeningly sporadic reports of new sightings, new combat.

“We’ll be fighting with knives soon,” Karl said after giving his most recent report. There were still more than three hundred people in camp.

“See that you’re out before that happens.”

“I had a different idea.”

Tania hesitated. She had only Vanessa to look at, and the woman’s eyes held as much intrigue as Tania felt. “Tell me.”

“We’re going to form an inner wall,” he said.

Tania frowned. “There’s no time.”

“There is if we build it out of aura towers.” When she didn’t shoot the idea down outright, he went on. “I figure we can make a ring with a twenty-meter radius. Plenty of room for those of us still here.”

It was a good plan, she had to admit. The easily moved towers were by far the quickest way to erect such a barricade. And yet their movement might also be the fatal flaw. “You’re assuming the subhumans can’t push the towers.”

“I am, yeah,” he said. His Australian accent was softer than Neil’s had been, but every now and then he said something that brought the late tycoon back to life in a way that Zane could not. “It beats a knife fight.”

Tania forced herself to swallow her concerns. It was unclear if the aura towers still did anything at all, but if there remained a purpose to them, the last thing she wanted to do was have the colonists return to find them scattered to who-knows-where. Yet Karl had to do something, and she could think of no better option. “Okay. Don’t waste any more time talking to me then. Report in when it’s done.”

“Cheers,” he said, and signed off.

She’d barely drawn her next breath when Tim shouted down from the pilot’s cabin. “Tania, you should see this!”

The hatch at the top of the ladder was still open, but she already had her excursion suit on and this one was nothing like the svelte model she’d worn last time. The one she’d worn to Colorado, and left in the mud at the base of Camp Exodus’s wall. “Tell us, Tim. We’re both suited and can’t come up.”

“Right, sorry.” His voice had a slight quiver to it. “Remember those pointy bits that stuck out from the bottom of the Key Ship?”

“What about them?” Skyler had thought they might be a weapon. Tania feared they were the nozzles of a massive engine.

“They’re gone.”

She blanched, and cursed whoever had built this tin can for not putting a vid screen down here. “Gone? As in retracted? Vanished?”

“Yes … Wait, No. Hang on.”

Seconds passed. Tania felt subtle changes in her weight. Tim must be turning the small ship to get a better view.

“Tania, where those towers were I now see Elevator threads. Hundreds of them, stretching down.”

She tried to absorb the ramifications of this and rammed into a mental stumbling block that went part and parcel with anything the Builders did: Why? Why so many in one place? Why put one in Darwin, one in Belém, then concentrate orders of magnitude more on a third site so late?

Perhaps the other two sites were just test locations, or outposts, in their eventual colonization of Earth. And this site represented what would become their hub. A capital city, or something like it.

“Skyler and Ana,” Vanessa said. Her voice shattered Tania’s mental picture like a rock through a window. “They’re down below, somewhere, aren’t they?”

Tania shook her head. “They should be in Darwin by now, or even on their way back to Belém.” She didn’t feel the need to correct her by adding Russell Blackfield’s name to the list.

“They should be, yes. But maybe not. And we can go check.”

“Hmm?”

Vanessa spread her hands. “Bring a climber over here and go down. They might need our help. They might … if they failed, we could still finish the mission.”

“We finish our task first,” Tania said, more stern than she’d intended. “After that, it’s worth preparing for, at least. Tim?”

He answered instantly. “I already asked them to prep a climber and send it over.”

“Good man.”

“Thanks. But Tania?”

“Yes?”

“The door is tucked in the middle of that maze of Elevator threads.”

She hadn’t considered that. On the first visit, Jenny had had the decency to position their craft directly over the hexagonal door before unleashing her betrayal. That maneuver would be impossible now. The graphene cords were thin to the point of being invisible, so piloting into that mess was out of the question. The threads were so strong that a solid impact would likely slice the vehicle in two without leaving so much as a scratch on the exotic material. Either that or the tiny ship would be flung back from the thing like an arrow off a bowstring. “Get us as close as you can,” Tania said. “We’ll wiggle through somehow.”

Another shift in weight as Tim corrected their course. Ten minutes passed, long enough for Tania to cycle twice through feelings of fear and resolve. The only thing that remained constant, through everything that had happened, was the doubt. She couldn’t shake the idea that all of this, the installation of these objects, amounted to the digging of one’s own grave. It made no sense to her, of course. Certainly there were much easier ways to wipe out a planet with minimal effort, so she concluded there must be some other purpose. She simply doubted that the purpose the Builders had in mind would be a desirable outcome for humanity.

“Patching Karl in,” Tim said.

Tania flipped her comm on. “Karl, I’m listening.”

“Bad news,” he said. He was practically shouting, the sounds of battle heavy in the background. “The towers refuse to move.”

“What?”

“They won’t budge, no matter what we try. Ammo is low—”

“Get out of there,” Tania said. “Leave now.”

“It’ll be eight hours before the next climber returns.” Somewhere near him a woman screamed.

“Karl, listen,” Tania said. “I didn’t want to say it before because I didn’t want to be wrong. I think the auras are gone.”

“Gone? Wait, you
think
?”

“I was in the Clear in Colorado, just like you when you first set foot in Belém. I had the headache, so I’m not immune. But then it stopped. It stopped right before the subhumans started this assault. I think SUBS has switched off, and the auras, too.”

“I … Tania, Christ. I think I get what you’re suggesting, but I don’t know.…”

She tried to fill her voice with a confidence she didn’t feel. “You can’t hold out there any longer, correct?”

“That’s an understatement.”

“And the subhumans only want to reach the Elevator. So let them. Move into the city and wait it out. Take the comm, and tomorrow or the next day we’ll coordinate a plan to retake the camp. Understood?”

“Okay. I read you,” came the stiff reply. “Signing off; it’s getting ugly down here.”

“Be safe,” Tania said even as the connection closed. She leaned back and shut her eyes, wondering when the time would come when all crises were behind them and some actual progress could be made. Years away, she suspected.

“Okay,” Tim said from above. “This is about as close as I’m willing to go. Nearest thread is ten meters away.”

“Nice flying,” Tania replied. “Seal your hatch; we’ll get our helmets on now.”

A second later Tim’s face appeared over the hatch. He motioned for Tania to come, as if he wanted to tell her a secret. His expression was strange. Not worried, but still somehow nervous. Tania glanced at Vanessa, who busily inspected the grooves of her helmet’s seal. Shrugging, Tania allowed herself to drift up to the hatch. “What is it?”

He leaned in to say something, and when Tania turned her ear toward him she felt his lips press against her cheek. The kiss was brief and warm and sent a tingle along her spine. “Come back in one piece, okay?” he said as he moved away.

“I … I’ll do that.” His action took her off guard. Belatedly, she added, “You’d better be here, waiting.”

“Count on it.”

Tania favored him with a smile and Tim responded in kind.

“Sealing the hatch,” the man said. He caught Tania’s eye one last time before the metal door closed with a deep twang. Tania waited for the small indicator light next to it to turn green, indicating a good seal. Then she drifted back down and helped Vanessa get her helmet on. For a few long minutes Tania felt a warmth on her cheek and a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. If Vanessa noticed, she said nothing.

The older, bulky spacesuits were not equipped with the fancy conveniences of the kind she’d worn on her previous visit.

Instead of a wrist-mounted thruster, Tania had to make do with a box-shaped device that hung from a strap on her forearm. It had a nozzle on the front, and a handle on either side, which meant two hands were needed to operate the thing. Easy enough when moving alone and unhindered, but Tania had both the alien object and Vanessa in tow. The immune was a quick learner, but she’d only spent a scant few hours in zero-g before they’d come over. Her movements were still too jerky, too abrupt, for her to be set loose in open space.

So Vanessa clutched the case containing the object with both arms and legs as if trying to merge with it. Tania couldn’t see her eyes through the reflective gold visor, but she suspected the woman had taken her advice and closed her eyes to ease the sense of vertigo. Per Tania’s instruction, Vanessa made no movements at all so as not to throw off Tania’s aim.

For her part, Tania decided not to attach herself to the case or her companion at all. To navigate she needed to be able to propel them in any direction, and that would be impossible if she was stuck on one side of the package. It was a risk to spacewalk without any kind of tether, but risk somehow felt normal to her now after Colorado. After everything, really.