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Authors: Linda Andrews

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BOOK: Syn-En: Plague World: The Founders War Begins
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Silence? Definitely a juvenile trait. Bei drummed his fingers against his bicep. Time for Doc to grow up. “I’ll assign Brooklyn the task to sway Davena.”

“Absolutely not!” Doc slammed his compartment shut. “He’s under my command. I—I’ll need him to treat the villagers.”

Right. Because the chance of infection on a planet with no microbial life was nil. Bei tried again. “Queens then.”

“Hell no. That Lothario doesn’t know how to treat a real woman.” Doc clapped his hands on his skull and squeezed.

“There’s never been any complaints.”

Doc paced the small room. “We need to keep away from the biologics.”

“We need to protect them.” Bei stilled his fingers. “You’ve seen what the Scraptors did.”

Doc nodded then shook his head. “If I did get close to Davena, to any of them, I could infect them. Do you have any idea how many microbes live on the Human body?”

Bei could find out, but he doubted numbers were at the heart of the argument. “A lot.”

“More than enough to kill every man, woman and child on the planet several times over.” Doc’s arms hung limp at his side. “Forget the Scraptors. We would be responsible for this genocide.”

Bei blinked and reset his paradigm. He might have bought the argument had it been issued earlier. “We’ve been in contact with them for hours. The damage is already done. You will need to make certain we don’t infect them.”

“The fermites—”

Holding up his hand, Bei cut off the budding excuse. “Syn-Ens clean-up their own messes. We don’t rely on atomic pests.”

Doc’s shoulders sagged. “I’ll need to get Davena’s permission.”

“I could ask Brooklyn or Queens to interface with the oracle.”

“Stick a magnet in your circuits.” Doc slammed the lids of the half full cases. “I couldn’t even bring her dead back to her. Give her something to mourn, to bury.”

Bei pushed away from the door jamb. He’d gone as far as he was prepared to go. Doc’s anger meant he was emotionally attached to the oracle. His best man would do everything possible to convince the biologics to leave. The task was as good as done. Still, the admiral comment shouldn’t be allowed to slide. “It’s the rules of this world.”

“I’d walk through fire for her.”

“Walking through fire is easy. Our armor and prostheses are fire-proof.” Bei turned on his heel and strode back to his wife. The nacelles humming switched tempo. The shuttle must be approaching the landing zone.

“What do you mean it’s easy?” Doc leaned out of the galley. “Fire hurts, even with our sensors deadened.”

“You’ll see.” Bei skipped down the stairs. He’d done his job. If Doc needed any advice, Nell could see to it. Setting his boots on the side of the ladder, Bei slid into the crew compartment.

The biologics’ features had eased somewhat. The names of the victims flew around the room as memories were shared, exploits relived, and those gathered took comfort in resurrecting the dead. The grief ritual had worked.

Sometimes his wife was brilliant.

Nell balanced the stainless steel container on her hip. Collecting garbage, she walked to greet him. “Are all tray tables stowed and seats in their upright positions?”

Bei had never heard those words strung together in that precise way. But that was his wife’s greatest strength. She defied all logic subroutines.

 

 

 

Chapter 18

 

 

Nell walked toward the village and laced her fingers with her husband’s. Her throat felt tight, metal banded her chest. Her heart struggled to shove her molasses-thick blood through her veins. Her family had died over a hundred years ago. For a moment, the grief rubbed her raw, left her bleeding. She leaned against Bei.

He kissed the top of her head. “There will be no more casualties for these biologics. I swear it.”

“I know.” But he couldn’t prevent it if the natives didn’t leave this planet. She wiped her tears on his sleeve.

On the cliffs above, Syn-En stood as dark sentinels in the fading light. Spheres with blinking red and green lights hovered high above, scanning for any incoming threat. One
Starflight
blocked the throat of the canyon. Richmond manned the helm. All weapons read hot, ready for action. The other shuttle crouched beyond the pathway, waiting to begin the hunt for the enemy.

A cheer rose from the village.

In front of Nell, the rescued natives scattered like billiard balls on a hard break. Magpie chatter preceded gasps of horror. Families folded in on themselves as if to keep the horrible news out. Doc cradled the sedated biologic female.

Davena alone remained with their group. Dust dulled the hem of her black robes. The twinkle of fermites faded. She set a steel suitcase containing Doc’s portable lab on the ground. “I shall take her.”

Doc paused. “I don’t mind. It is the least I can do.”

Nell tilted her head. Doc’s posture was relaxed and he no longer shied away from Davena. She’d bet her husband’s little private chat had something to do with the attitude adjustment. “Nice job.”

Bei cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Apollie strolled by. Without looking up from the etablet in her hand, she spoke. “Well someone had to pull that stick out of Doc’s ass and tell him to live a little.” She ran her finger over the page before peeking at Nell. “I did get the usage correct, didn’t I?”

“Yes.” Nell peeked at the writing on the tablet. The words on the pillar. She bit her tongue. Later, she would ask for a translation.

“It still makes no sense.” Apollie’s pale face was tinted blue in the screen’s glow. “Small wonder you Humans had so many wars. You have no clear means of communication.”

Bei barked with laughter. “Nice to know I’m not the only one.”

Nell elbowed her braying husband in the gut. “Nice show of solidarity.”

Doc transferred the unconscious woman into Davena’s waiting arms. Peeling back his index finger, he revealed a needle. He swabbed an area on the unconscious woman’s arm and injected something.

She immediately began to stir.

Sliding the used needle under his armor, Doc walked toward them. “Admiral. Davena is requesting we leave, so she and her people can have their transformation ceremony.”

“Leave?” Bei’s jaw thrust forward.

He was going to argue. Nell knew it. She squeezed his hand. “This transformation ceremony is some sort of death ritual, isn’t it?”

Davena set the woman on her feet but kept her arm around her waist. The woman swayed and blinked rapidly.

“Yes.” Doc cleared his throat and fixed his attention on Bei. “Nell Stafford can remain, as she has been accepted conditionally by the Meek.”

An older couple and young boy hurried to Davena. They towed the young woman away.

“Well, that makes me feel special.” Although being accepted by a pillar that ate people was a lot like being asked to dinner by a cannibal. Nell couldn’t be certain who exactly was on the menu. “I suppose as a representative of our people, I should—”

“No. Absolutely not.” Bei’s arm stiffened.

She stumbled against him. Her teeth rattled from the impact. Falling on the ground would have been softer. “Hey, now.”

Holding her skirts in her hands, Davena fast-walked to Doc’s side. “Have your people agreed?”

A muscle ticked in Bei’s jaw.

Nell shifted a little in front of him. If his temper flared, she could shield the oracle from his wrath. “Thank you for the invitation, but I would rather be with my people.”

The oracle nodded. “I understand.”

Doc clasped Davena’s caramel-colored hands. His thumbs stroked the back. “Please reconsider leaving. You must see how dangerous it would be for you and your people to be unprotected.”

Davena lifted one of his hands to her cheek. “I see the risks now. But I do not mean for you to depart entirely. Only for your men to step away from the cliff-top so we cannot see them, and for you to take shelter in our home until the ceremony ends.”

Bei grunted. For an instant, his eyes darkened.

The silhouettes disappeared from the ridge line.

Shaking free of her husband’s hand, Nell hooked her arm through his and dragged him toward the cliff dwellings. “Come on, dear, let’s go look at the records we’ve heard so much about.”

Bei dug in his heels.

Nell’s boots skidded across the gravel.

The white-bearded Gandalf look-alike stepped from the shadow of a beehive oven. “It will be my pleasure to escort you into the sanctuary.”

Nell shuddered. Small wonder the man hadn’t spoken when he’d greeted them. His raspy baritone could beat Vincent Price as creepiest voice ever. “T-thank you.”

“Rayem is our oldest resident.” Davena smiled at the old man. “He should be able to answer any questions you have.”

He inclined his head. The tail of the white beard squiggled across his narrow chest. “This way.”

Oh, boy, if she had a dollar every time some Hollywood Igor said those words... Nell squared her shoulders and trudged after him. Those records had better be worth it.

Doc cupped Davena’s cheek. “I’m here if you need...anything.”

“Thank you.” The oracle opened her mouth to say something then shut it. “You must go.”

Hefting his portable medical lab on his shoulder, Doc caught up and walked beside Bei. “I’d like to remove Karl and Erin from quarantine. Because of the experiments run on them, they have antibodies to most of the worst diseases the universe has to offer.”

Nell shifted a little behind her husband as they reached an incline. Soft white light shone out of the doors and windows of the adobe structure. No shadows moved within. So, who had turned on the lights? The hair on her neck stood on end. If someone started playing organ music, she was heading back to the shuttle.

“Our lab rats?” Bei scratched his chin. “If they agree to it. This world and its biologics pose no risk to them, but they may be able to help. They said they wanted to help.”

Doc smoothed his goatee. “I don’t quite trust them either, but they are a living testament to the Founders’ cruelty. Davena has agreed to listen to their tales.”

The path ended on a wide shelf before a three-story building. Bei shifted so Nell could walk beside him again.

Apollie fell into step beside Rayem and flashed the etablet. “I don’t suppose you can read these words?”

Rayem shook his head. White caterpillar eyebrows kissed above his patrician nose. “That is the language of before.”

“Before what?” Nell stepped into a puddle of light. She was letting her fears get the better of her. So what if Rayem had a creepy voice, his doppleganger was a good wizard and helped save Middle Earth.

Rayem gestured to the wooden ladder leading to an open door. “Before the purification. Before the split. Before.”

After tucking the etablet in her belt, Apollie mounted the ladder. “Are the records in the language before?”

“No.” Rayem motioned Doc forward. “It is in the language of now.”

Well, that was clear as mud. Nell shambled into line behind Doc. In the valley below, naked villagers lined the river. Fermites blinked on and off like fireflies. Mouths moved but no sound emerged. Davena shucked her robes. Her lithe frame glowed a pale gold.

Heat unfurled inside Nell’s gut; it zinged along her nerve-endings until her fingertips turned to brass. “O-kay.”

Bei nudged her up the ladder. “Perhaps, you will not react once we are inside.”

Rayem shook his shaggy head. “We are one with the Meek. We all hear the call of Unity and Transformation.” He held up his own glowing digits.

“It’s worth a shot.” Nell’s sweaty palms wrapped around the smooth wood. Hand over hand, rung after rung, she climbed. The rails extended far beyond the last rung, so she stepped inside the room.

Mud smoothed the jagged edges of the adobe brick. Fermites whitewashed the square room, emitting enough soft light to illuminate the entire place and prevent shadows. Another ladder led to another door higher up and deeper into the cliff-face.

Nell blew her bangs out of her eyes. At least the building only had three stories.

Apollie perched on the middle rung of the ladder.

Rayem appeared not even a second after Bei. White-beard tsked. “Allow me to lead and the path with become clear.”

The wall behind the ladder dissolved at his words.

Nell rubbed the goosebumps from her arms. Vincent Price never did that, but she’d bet Gandalf could. Score one for the good guys.

Apollie leapt from the ladder and followed Rayem inside. The room glowed to life at their presence. Nell followed Doc. Her husband brought up the rear, close enough to touch her; lethal enough to protect her.

Even from Bug-uglies.

Another wall melted at their approach, while the one behind them reformed. Rayem zigged and zagged through square rooms.

Nell followed him up and down ladders, along ledges, and openings in floors. “It’s like a paleolithic Police Box.”

Bei’s eyes narrowed. “It is not quantum space. We are moving deeper into the mountainside.”

“Spoilsport.” She paused alongside Doc in front of a waterfall. Liquid pooled in the small puddle at its base and splashed her boots. She frowned at the cascade. On TV, waterfalls were always noisy things. This one was quiet. She peered into the rippling water. Hundreds of her reflections stared back.

Rayem’s bushy mustache twitched. “This is the last door.”

Hugging the wall, the old man sidled behind the waterfall and disappeared.

Nell filled her lungs. “Guess this is a leap of faith or a crab-like walk into it.”

Apollie followed. Then Doc.

No sound indicated they’d found solid footing behind the wall.

Bei hooked her pinky finger with his. “I queried. No horror movies have a hidden room behind a waterfall.”

“Yeah, Hollywood keeps that prop for spy movies.” Cold stone skimmed her chest. Limestone crumbled under her hands. She scooted her foot along the ledge. Water made the motion slick. Left foot. Right.

The draft created by the falling water tugged on her hair. Droplets wormed down her pant legs. Her fingers glided over the wall until they reached empty space.

A hand wrapped around her wrist.

BOOK: Syn-En: Plague World: The Founders War Begins
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