The Red Queen (6 page)

Getting in the next room was easy. Finding a level area to stand proved deadly as the floor splintered and busted open beneath him. The sudden collapse left him with a bruised shoulder and aching feet before he gripped the harness. He’d just started to breathe again when a chorus of clangs alerted him to the objects spilling out of his backpack until it emptied. Doubtless the zipper snagged on something during his little slip-up. As his wife’s expensive gear echoed in the abyss below, he shined his flashlight around the room. Barren walls, but for a few faded photos and a flag of stars and stripes. The floor barely existed, almost entirely fractured. He’d have to study it still hanging from the rope. The less he touched, the safer.

He examined several more rooms until he found something promising. Sitting on an old desk was what appeared to be a computer monitor and tower. A surge of excitement shot through him so fast he barely managed to keep from reaching out for it. The computer tower looked like it might still be salvageable. At least the interior.

As it was, he could feel the rope’s tightness. The extra weight of a computer wouldn’t help.

Every second the rope seemed ready to snap, but in the end he managed to build his momentum and swing in for it. There was nothing for him to put his feet on to try and shift the added weight, so he balanced on a loose plank of wood. Then he stripped off the computer’s cover and located the hard drive. It amazed him to think ancient civilizations used the same technology. More likely though, the know-how had survived among pockets of intelligent people.

As he retrieved the storage device, he heard a creak. Suddenly the floor gave, taking the desk with it through the ruins below.

Zubren massaged his shoulder as the commotion died down. Eagerness ran through him. The hard drive was bound to contain data on the history or culture of the civilization from those ruins. If it were enough, he might find insights into the reason why humanity could never win the Crawler War.

Back atop the ledge, he stowed the rope into the backpack along with the hard drive. That’s when it hit him. His map had fallen into the depths of the ruins with everything else. Double-checking the rope, he noticed the strands loose, ready to tear. No hope to retrieve it.

After two hours of attempted backtracking, he failed to adhere to any one path in the sewer system. Every part of his legs, from his knees to his ankles, wrenched with pain. He slumped down against the sewer wall, pinched in desperation.

A groan echoed from the walls, stealing him from his dismay. A faint vibration jutted through his feet and back. He feared an earthquake, but the cold gush of water over him brought annoyance. Springing forward, he noticed the pipe overhead. Wringing his drenched clothes, he found his backpack soaked too. Which meant so was the hard drive. He opened the backpack and sure enough, the hard drive proved waterlogged.

Any hope of accessing the data required he take it to a specialized tech store. But under the quarantine, only the most vital stores would be open. That excluded a tech store. Panic overwhelming him, he found the nearest escape ladder and climbed up. The gray coming from the tiny opening in the manhole cover meant he still couldn’t be outside legally. But at least it would be dark enough for the possibility of evading the city patrol.

On the streets, his careworn legs allowed him enough quick strides past several vehicle sweeps long enough to figure out his location. The tech repair shop he located bore a sign explaining it would be closed until the military lifted the quarantine restrictions. He jostled the door handle to no avail. A mass of huddled field operators chattered more than patrolled, but they’d restrain him all the same if they spotted him.

If he was smart about this, he could get inside, access the hard drive files, and leave before anyone noticed. Stepping back, he shifted all of his weight forward and brought his leg up. His boot met the door with a snap. The impact hurt him more than he expected. He dropped, screamed, and knew in one fatal instant that someone would hear. Down the street, the collection of field operators stirred. Cursing, he fought his way to a stand and hopped on one foot into the building.

Daggers shooting through his kicking leg every second, he hobbled down a musty corridor, dust fleeting in the air under the glow of his flashlight, and into a room stocked with computer hardware and accessories. Most likely the shop’s in-house computer would have a device to read damaged hard drives. Even one from a long dead civilization. Then he could borrow a working hard drive to transfer the data onto. The field operators wouldn’t find him if he did this quickly.

The primary computer sat on the desk behind the counter. Zubren pulled out a chair and powered it up.

“I'll ask that you don’t let your curiosity get the better of you.”

Zubren swiveled around, his gut clenching, and discovered Lieutenant Maxforth and the Maester he’d spoken with at the Citadel looming over the counter.

“How did you get here?” he snapped.

“I'm guessing you’re in such pain, you didn’t hear us,” Lieutenant Maxforth said, his expression unreadable.

Zubren staggered up and clutched the hard drive.

“This can only end so many ways,” Maxforth said, putting up a hand to calm him. There was a hint of regret in his voice.

Zubren noted the gun-shaped bulge on the side of Maxforth’s pants. “You know, I don’t think the owners would appreciate brains and blood all over their products,” he said, enjoying the laugh.

“I don’t think they’d appreciate breaking and entering either.”

“If they knew why I had to do it, they would.” Zubren wracked his mind for some kind of a solution. The Maester presented no physical threat and Maxforth hadn’t trained his gun on him. But beyond the curtained windows, he discerned the vague outlines of soldiers. And with one ankle fractured, he wasn’t going anywhere. So that left him with one major decision to make.

Zubren set the hard drive down and raised his hands up. “Well, you caught me. Are you going to place me under arrest?”

“The way this War is going, I doubt that would be very smart. You’re too good of a pilot,” said Maxforth.

“Not anymore. I know Fleet Services is behind this whole Crawler War. It’s all one big charade.”

Maxforth scowled. “Fleet Services is the difference between survival and complete annihilation. You’ve killed enough Crawlers to figure that out.”

“Then why can’t we ever win the Crawler War?” Zubren shot back, pointing to the Maester. “The Book of Makori holds the answers, doesn’t it?”

The reality of the moment seemed to dawn on his lieutenant as he folded his arms over his chest.

“You know, I had a bad feeling you would respond like this. You won’t ever stop searching for the answer, will you?” Maxforth let out a long sigh. “We’ll have to resolve this the old-fashioned way. By telling the truth.” He leaned against the wall and motioned to the Maester. “If you would, Sinclair.”

Sinclair stared at him blankly. “You expect me to just tell him?”

Maxforth grinned. “You told me and he’s done a lot more than I did.”

“What are you talking about?” Zubren asked.

Thrumming his fingers on his arms, Maxforth said, “We all wonder about the truth. You didn’t think you were the first pilot to ever try and seek it out, did you? I don’t want to arrest you, Zubren. We can’t afford to lose pilots. So Sinclair’s going to share the truth with you. Just like he did with me.”

That seemed to convince the Maester. He rubbed his throat and breathed out. “Where to begin? Where to begin?” The way his eyes drifted it must’ve been ages since he last passed on the secrets of the Book of Makori. “Long ago, Oras met the Crawlers in space. Hundreds of years before our records began. After initially destructive encounters, it was decided that humanity needed more than just better weapons and faster ships to defeat the Crawlers. We needed better humans. We ourselves needed to evolve to defeat them. The governments of our planet pooled resources and gathered up a population of humanity’s best. The genetically enhanced, the savants, and the naturally talented minds of Oras were shipped to our neighbor planet, Mars, with no way of returning.

“They were given barely enough to survive. Conditions on Mars were harsh. There were too many people and not enough supplies. Competition ensued and natural selection played its role. It was doubtless a form of hell. Desperation led to murder, rape, torture. Brother fought against brother. Child fought against child. But there were also great innovations. In order to survive, the Martian scientists designed fast-growing plants that oxygenated Mars, bore fruit, and enhanced intelligence. This allowed their population to flourish and, instead of purely competing amongst themselves, they formed an advanced society with basic weapons in less than one hundred years.”

The Maester’s voice wavered. He slowed down.

“And so Oras’ governments moved the experiment to Phase 2. They allowed trickles of Crawlers to enter the solar system, but only to reach Mars. There, the Martians were truly tested. Once more, they faced all the horrors of wars. Some developed post-traumatic stress disorder, which kept them ever primed for combat. Again, this brought out the best in them, drawing out their full potential.”

The Maester swallowed, but seemed unable to continue.

“What happened next?” Zubren asked with raw desperation.

The Maester bit his lip. “After a few hundred years of the experiment, the Martians transcended what it meant to be human. They invented the technology to easily defeat the Crawlers. So advanced, in fact, that they no longer feared them. With their advanced technology, they cut off communications with Oras.”

“But they recognized the Crawlers were the enemy?”

“They considered them a potential threat, but they wanted them alive. You see, they spread out through the galaxy, these Martians, and established their own bases, destroying some of humanity’s in the process. Oras’ satellite defenses were weakened, so the Crawlers invaded the planet and wreaked havoc. The Martians allowed the Crawlers to wipe out most of us. All but the descendants of those who had first sent their ancestors to Mars. Only then did the Martians intervene, killing off the Crawlers to keep the descendants of those responsible alive. Alive to suffer what they had once suffered through.”

“Then we’re all the descendants of....”

“Of the ones who first forced the Martians into the experiment. Why do you think certain traits, like curly hair, are so common? The Crawlers that have our planet surrounded are most likely pets of those that were once Martians, now gods. Advanced as they are, they seem unwilling to forget their vendetta against us. So now, we are the ones in an experiment, a trial of sorts. I suppose on one level, we deserve it—”

“Deserve it? Hell no,” Maxforth interrupted. “Those Martians have no right to do this to us.”

“Unfortunately, we are in no position to negotiate,” Maester Sinclair said.

Zubren felt like a sapper Crawler had sucked all the blood from his body, leaving a dry husk. The Fleet Services was not any more to blame than the rest of humanity. They were all responsible for this situation. In a way, keeping this a secret known only to Elite Maesters was a civil duty.

He tried to remember the burning desire for knowledge that fueled this search. But he had lost it. This was why Maxforth didn’t want him to become a Maester. To spare him the dismal reality.

“That site my wife was excavating...” It was all Zubren could think to say. He began connecting all the dots right as Maxforth explained.

“Our society probably built over it ages ago,” Maxforth said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Most likely we were in the same situation then as now. We’d peaked technologically, so the Crawlers started attacking us on the microscopic level. I don’t know how badly we were hit back then, but it must’ve taken us hundreds of years to rebuild society back to this point. But the Book of Makori has always been the blueprint.”

Zubren thought of the similarities between the imprint from RB-14 and his wife’s excavated insect mold. Different sizes, but the same Crawler strain. One old, one recent. They were both just part of an evolutionary Crawler cycle, weren’t they? A cycle that correlated with the destruction and rebuilding of their society.

Zubren raised an eyebrow to the Maester. “The Book is the blueprint?”

He nodded in response. “It is no physical book, but a digital encyclopedia of humanity’s history and technology. Every time the Crawlers have nearly wiped us out, the Book gave us all the information to rebuild.”

Zubren blinked, completely stunned. A million thoughts swarmed in his head. He didn’t know if he should be happy or depressed.

Maxforth walked over, clapped him on the shoulder, and gave a long sigh. “This cycle of war has gone on for a long time now. And I don’t know when it will end.”

* * *

Zubren sat on his couch, exosuit pieces supporting his legs, and browsed the news with his wife.

“Vaccines for the latest Crawler virus are being shipped out at this time. It’s expected they will be fully distributed by the end of the month,” the reporter said.

The news should’ve pleased him. Instead Zubren bowed his head. The Maester’s story had violated everything he knew and consumed all of his thoughts in the last three weeks. He’d told Maxforth he’d continue fighting on the Fleet Services’ behalf, but he was reconsidering now. It would be impossible to fight with any volition, knowing that somewhere a group of god-like beings were pulling the strings of the Crawler War.

“I had an interesting conversation with my sister last week. I decided something,” Elaine said.

Zubren grunted. He hadn’t told her the truth about the Crawler War. Lieutenant Maxforth had overlooked his crimes so long as he never spoke of the Makori truths again. And Site G had been temporarily shut down, so Elaine didn’t know about the gear he’d borrowed.

“Well, if you’re not going to talk, I’m just going to say it.”

Massaging her shoulder, Zubren asked, “What’s that?”

“Asher could use a companion.”

The words sliced at the fog in his mind. Zubren grinned, a warmth spreading from his feet all the way to his fingertips. He leaned in and kissed her. Her hazel eyes and soft smile seemed more beautiful than ever.