Exodus Page 4

  Ann brought her g-ray banks to bear on the closest gunship and threw lances of radiation at it before it could raise shields. It erupted in a cloud of superheated slag. She turned her attention to the next, and the next, but with each shift in target, she lost power as more couplings blew. Every failed junction put more strain on those that remained.

  ‘We have to get out of here!’ Cy warned her. ‘The power network is going into cascade failure.’

  Ann spat curses, turned her ship and boosted towards the erratically twitching sphere of light that was Kraken’s envelope. She focused her fire on the drones attacking the ark, while the gunships pounded her back. She dearly hoped that Mark had some kind of exit manoeuvre in mind. The embership wouldn’t last a second under the kind of pounding the Ariel had just taken.

  As soon as Mark claimed the ark, he rerouted his munitions fleet to protect the Ariel, but it was too little too late. It would take entire seconds for them to arrive and their g-rays didn’t bother the Phote gunships for a moment. Ann sprayed the oncoming enemies with erratic boser fire, desperate to keep them on the back foot for as long as possible.

  The enemy twisted and darted, burning juice in oblivious abandon as they screamed towards her. They kept firing the entire time.

  The Ariel’s power system shrieked, whistled and died completely one long second before the embership’s fronds reached for her. Deep booms rumbled through the hull as the primary energy circuits collapsed. Ann held her breath.

  Then, miraculously, before the Photes could target again, that wall of pale fire slid around her and all was quiet. The envelope shuddered once, twice, and was still. Its flickering became a smooth, even blur. Ann still didn’t dare breathe.

  ‘We’re out,’ came the signal from the Gulliver. ‘Extraction complete.’

  Ann sat perfectly still and exhaled for several long seconds without saying a word. Only then did it occur to her to open her human eyes. Three terrified young officers sat facing her, surrounded by glaring radiation warnings on the wall-screens. Somewhere in the conflict she’d apparently lost power to the secondary Casimir-buffers and radiation had started leaking into the cabin. Not an issue for her, but her crew would need rad-scrubbing and a fast round of anti-cancer treatment if they wanted to live. Ann’s fury at Mark came back redoubled.

  ‘Captain Ruiz,’ she growled into the open channel. ‘How nice of you to drop by.’

  ‘Spare me the righteous fury,’ said Mark. ‘We thought you’d split the population – one ark for rescue and another for emergency backup. We were trying to compensate.’

  ‘Where in fuck’s name did you get a ridiculous idea like that?’ Ann snapped. ‘How would that even work, for crying out loud? What kind of people do you think we are? And in any case, if you’d wanted to change the plan, why didn’t you just say so? You know what I hate? I hate being the one stuck in the role of uncaring soldier because I actually follow orders. Because I take my responsibilities to others seriously rather than mooning about complaining that my freedoms are being impinged. We almost lost eight per cent of what’s left of the human goddamned race, you lousy fuck!’

  Zoe’s voice burst onto the channel. ‘Ann, shut up a minute!’ she yelled. ‘Listen. The false data we received came directly from Ambassador Shue, the negotiator you hosted on Ariel Two.’

  Ann froze. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Ambassador Shue,’ Zoe repeated. ‘On your ship.’ The implications belatedly sank home. ‘She must have been infected down on Earth,’ Zoe added.

  ‘Impossible,’ said Ann. ‘I’d have—’

  ‘Think about it,’ said Zoe. ‘If you want to file a complaint against us, go ahead, but the bad data we worked from came from your ship. Think about what that means.’

  Even though Ann couldn’t say it out loud, her crew were already drawing conclusions. They glanced at each other with mounting panic. Shue had been in the primary habitat core with the rest of them. If she’d picked up some kind of Phote infection that Ann couldn’t detect, one or more of them might be infected, too. They might be sharing the room with the traitorous undead – someone whose humanity had been unravelling beneath their very noses. Someone already craving the cloying, robotic bliss of the Phote mass-mind and awaiting their chance to force it on the rest of them.

  ‘No,’ said Ann. ‘We’re missing another angle. I’d have smelled it.’

  Ann’s body was crammed with nano-machinery, her every cell a processing unit augmented with technology almost as smart and subtle as the Photes’. Meanwhile, bacterial conversion required the alien cells to infiltrate the victim’s nervous system to map their emotional states before it could even have an effect.

  ‘Seeded takeovers are slow,’ Ann insisted. ‘It would have needed days. There’d have been a sign. I do regular skin-testing, goddamnit! I’m not an idiot!’

  The problem was that the Ariel Two didn’t carry standard bioassay equipment. Ann’s own cellular tech played havoc with it. Which meant that the ship’s screening was dependent on her talent. In forty-one years, that had never been an issue.

  ‘Ann,’ said Zoe, ‘we know Shue got infected and we know you missed it. We’re not saying you have a mole in your crew but you have to check. They’ve targeted your biomachinery before. If they’ve perfected something you can’t see, we’re all at risk. You need to run a twitch-test. Please.’

  Ann’s eyes skittered over her crew. None of them looked any different. But then she hadn’t exactly paid close attention to them over the last few weeks. Her anger gave way to a sick, sinking feeling that Mark’s infuriating wife was right. If Ann missed something now, they might not even get home. And it could go bad at any time. A Phote victim probably wouldn’t realise they’d been tainted. Only when the infection was ready to activate would they start entertaining wildly religious notions about universal peace.

  Ann reluctantly triggered the emergency testing assembly. Video exploded onto the wall-screens around them.

  ‘Why are we even fighting?’ the Phote announcer crooned over the speakers. ‘Peace and unity are available now! Humanity’s hard-fought journey is at a wonderful, beautiful end. Don’t you deserve rest? Don’t you deserve real happiness at last? You’ve earned it! Share our love! We ache for your companionship.’

  The screens showed a mash of content from the Photes’ carefully engineered arrival broadcasts, full of laughter and overjoyed faces, hand-holding and warm hugs. Ann wasn’t watching. Her eyes, both natural and electronic, were glued to the faces of her crew, watching for signs of a spontaneous response.

  Phlox shuddered and looked away from the barrage.

  ‘Keep watching!’ Ann shouted. ‘Keep your eyes on those fucking images or I’ll rip your lids off.’

  The seconds ground into minutes. Nobody spoke. Then Cy’s pupils jerked wide, just for a telltale instant. The subtlest of blushes pulsed across his cheeks.

  The restraints on Ann’s chair flew open. In that second, the thing hiding inside Cy knew the game was up. He unclipped from his couch with superhuman speed and threw himself at Urmi, who started screaming.

  His fingers never reached her face. Cy was fast, but Ann was faster. Cy’s body bounced off the cabin wall with Ann attached. She pinned him there, the two of them sliding up the curved surface in the negligible gravity.

  ‘Is peace such a bad thing?’ he breathed and tried to spit at her. Ann’s forehead connected with his skull, smashing it into the padding. She tried to keep the force of impact down so his brain wouldn’t splash, and almost succeeded.

  Cy’s body arched against the wall and went limp.

  ‘Everyone freeze,’ Ann told the others while she ramped the venting on the cabin’s air. The safety shields on their seats snapped down to protect them from the spatter of Cy’s infected flesh.

  She ordered a swarm of microbots into the room to collect the pieces of Cy for genetic testing and watched them closely as they combed the air clean.

  As soon as it was over, sh
e crumpled into a foetal ball and hung still. She’d liked Cy. Why did it have to be him? She should have run more tests to make sure the others were safe. She’d assumed she had the incursion risk under control.

  The young man’s life was on her conscience. She chalked it up along with all the others. With an oozing sense of chagrin, she reopened the channel to the Gulliver.

  ‘Captain Ruiz,’ she said quietly. ‘Informing you that the risk is neutralised. Follow-up genetic testing on the other crew members has commenced. Ludik out.’

  Ann curled her hands over her head and let the ship silently explain to her all the ways it was broken and burning inside. The Ariel would take months to repair. In that respect, it was in far better shape than she was.

  [You couldn’t have known,] said her shadow. [And we got out. Don’t forget that.]

  [Shut up,] said Ann. [Don’t say a fucking thing.]

  2: ALIGNMENT

  2.1: WILL

  Will regarded the three distorted copies of himself uneasily. The situation bordered on the dreamlike. However, he knew he wouldn’t figure out what the hell was going on by standing and staring, so he approached the bar and took a seat beside the others while cold fingers of apprehension played up and down his back.

  The woman in the dirndl placed a hot mug of tea in front of him with a smile.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Will.

  ‘A splash of soy,’ said the woman. ‘Just the way you like it, I bet.’

  Will took a cautious sip. The tea was excellent. He chose not to ask how come she knew his habits so well. In some sense, the answer was already obvious.

  ‘So,’ said the clone with antlers, ‘what brings you out here?’

  Will fished for an answer. He felt reluctant to reveal the extent of his ignorance.

  ‘Nothing much,’ he said warily. ‘Exploring, I guess. It’s a big planet. How about you?’

  ‘He was hunting me but we got bored,’ said Antlers, gesturing at Green. ‘Wasn’t really working. You know how it goes.’

  ‘You boys shouldn’t have bothered with the tuxedos,’ said Dirndl. ‘Too much social metaphor. You overloaded the setting. Should have picked something easier to run in.’

  ‘That’s what I said.’ Green nudged Antlers in the ribs. ‘I still might kill him. I wasted a whole week.’

  ‘Not in my café, you won’t,’ said Dirndl. ‘You can have your crossbow back when you leave and not before.’

  Clearly some joke was being made but Will lacked the context to understand it, so he smiled blandly. Besides, he had plenty to take in besides them. The other copies of him were weird enough to behold, but Will found the sight of the woman particularly distracting. Were these people some kind of plastic-surgery cult? Had they developed a religion that venerated his face and experiences?

  There had been those on Earth after the war who’d wanted to treat Will as a deity of sorts, he recalled vaguely, though he struggled to remember why. The idea of worship made his skin crawl, but he preferred it to the other explanation – that they actually were copies, that someone had deliberately manufactured different versions of him.

  Dirndl spotted him staring and appraised him in a new light.

  ‘So, Will,’ said Antlers. ‘What’s your nick?’

  Will shot him a startled look and stayed silent while he tried to figure out what the man meant.

  Dirndl noticed. ‘I’m Elsa,’ she said quickly. ‘This is Tars,’ she said, pointing to Green. ‘And Ronno. And you are …?’

  He hovered on the edge of saying Will, but they already knew his name. Something else was being asked for. He fumbled for a suitable cognomen. Something that wouldn’t immediately give away the fact that he had no idea what they were asking.

  ‘Jason,’ he said.

  The others froze as if a bomb had just gone off somewhere out of sight.

  ‘Interesting choice,’ said Ronno.

  ‘Like the Argonauts, right?’ said Elsa brightly. ‘I get it.’

  ‘Exactly,’ said Will.

  Ronno’s eyes narrowed slightly. ‘So where’s your crew?’

  ‘I’m trying something new,’ said Will. ‘Got bored. You know how it goes.’

  What had he said wrong? He contemplated coming clean but the tension in the air made him hold his tongue.

  ‘I think it’s time for some pie,’ said Elsa. ‘Who’d like pie?’

  She reached into a small bone-white cabinet, picked out a perfect, steaming slice of raspberry pie and set it on the counter with a clunk. It didn’t help.

  ‘That looks great,’ said Will, trying for enthusiasm. He glanced back at Ronno’s sharp, inquisitive expression and tried to improvise. ‘Sorry if the “nick” sounds a little off – but who comes to a place like this unless they need to work something out? It’s all about privacy, isn’t it? I mean, am I going to ask you what you guys intend to do with that crossbow?’

  Ronno blinked at him twice, wordless, and burst into laughter. He slapped Will on the back.

  ‘Well said, Jason!’ he exclaimed. ‘We’ve all got our reasons. It’s a difficult world.’

  ‘It sure is!’ said Will, grinning woodenly, entirely unsure of what kind of joke he’d just made.

  Elsa handed him a fork. Will filled his mouth with food to prevent further interrogation. The others, though, appeared to have lost their appetite for information.

  ‘Big mood-storm last night, wasn’t it?’ said Tars eventually. ‘Biggest I’ve ever seen. I think they’re getting worse.’

  ‘Are you kidding?’ said Ronno, stealing another glance at Will. ‘Of course they’re getting worse. The whole world’s going to hell in a handcart.’

  ‘You think it’s that bad?’ Will asked cautiously.

  Ronno arched a sly eyebrow. ‘Need you ask?’ he said.

  ‘So, Jason,’ said Elsa, ‘you’re doing the wandering thing. It’s pretty lonely out there, I bet. You probably haven’t checked in for ages.’

  ‘That’s exactly right,’ said Will.

  ‘It takes some strength, staying out of the loop like that,’ she said. ‘I have a sister who’s interested in that kind of chain. The long-gap stuff, you know? You’d probably get a good rate for it, if you wanted to share. Should I give you her lookup?’

  ‘Sure,’ said Will. ‘Definitely.’

  Elsa pulled out a physical pencil and a slip of dumb-paper. Will hadn’t seen such things for decades but tried not to stare. Having a human-manned coffee stand was old-school enough, but lots of Earthers preferred such places.

  Elsa scrawled quickly. Then, as she passed it to him, she stumbled. Something clattered beneath the counter.

  ‘That damned crossbow again,’ said Elsa.

  ‘Hey!’ said Tars, leaning over to look. ‘I told you – be careful with that. Have you any idea how long those things take to fab out here?’

  Will glanced at the paper as she pressed it hard into his hand.

  Get out now! it read. Alcove two hundred metres, tunnel left. Wait.

  His eyes locked on to hers and the sudden urgency in her gaze astonished him. In the next second, her expression shifted back to chipper as Tars and Ronno ascertained that their crossbow was intact and reclaimed their seats.

  ‘You know, I should go,’ said Will, pushing back his pie plate. ‘This is probably too much contact for me as it is. If I want to keep my rate up, I mean. Thanks for the tea.’

  He stepped away from the bar.

  ‘Wait,’ said Ronno, rising. ‘One minute—’

  ‘You hold on, antler-boy,’ said Elsa, her hands planted on her hips. ‘Jason the hermit gets a free snack but you most surely do not. That has to be your third slice. Let’s see your scrip. You too, Greedo.’

  While the other two fumbled with their pockets, Will strolled casually around the back of the coffee stand, waving his thanks. As soon as he was out of sight, he bolted. Thirty seconds later, shouting erupted behind him.

  Will scanned the tunnel as he sprinted through the miniature wood and
almost missed the gap Elsa had mentioned. It was hidden by a curious fold in the wall – a kink in the tunnel’s lining screened by trees and crammed with blue ferns.

  He darted into the damp space, crouched and waited. A minute later, Tars and Ronno jogged by. Tars scanned the forest through his crossbow’s sights while Ronno urged him onwards. He’d acquired a large knife from somewhere.

  ‘Down here!’ he said. ‘I’m sure that Jason was a Glitch. He can’t have got far.’

  Will watched them prowl out of sight, his mind a mess of confusion and outrage. Somebody had better explain to him what was going on soon, or he’d have to beat it out of them.

  Ten minutes later, Elsa crept up to the alcove.

  ‘Psst,’ she said. ‘You in there?’

  Will stood, revealing his place among the ferns. Elsa’s shoulders sagged in relief.

  ‘I thought they were going to kill you and get you arrested,’ she whispered. ‘You have no idea what’s going on, do you?’

  Will grimly shook his head.

  ‘I knew it,’ said Elsa, and looked almost excited. She glanced both ways down the tunnel. ‘Come with me, back to the café,’ she said. ‘I’ll try to explain. But stay quiet until we get there.’

  The two of them sneaked swiftly back to Elsa’s coffee stand and entered a small, single-storey building built onto the back of it. Inside lay a small, windowless bedroom with skylights and yellow floral-print wallpaper. The furnishings were ludicrously feminine and not at all what Will had been expecting. She sat on the bed.

  ‘You live here?’ said Will.

  ‘Of course,’ said Elsa, patting the space beside her. ‘Tell me, how much do you remember?’

  ‘There was a conspiracy,’ said Will. He remained standing and folded his arms. He didn’t feel like relaxing. ‘I died.’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ said Elsa. ‘Go on.’