Syn-En: Plague World: The Founders War Begins (21 page)

She choked on a scream.

Doc peeked around a square edge. “I’ve got you.”

Nell scrambled the last foot. Like in the cliff dwelling, fermites provided the ubiquitous light, but then the similarity ended. These walls had angles and planes. Straight lines and uniform heights. “What is this place?”

Rayem held up his arms. “This is our sanctuary. The faithful gathered here during the last purification.”

Frowning, Bei set his hand against the cut stone. “Diamond blade. Centuries old. Definitely built as a self-contained compound.”

Doc swept his green beam along the surface. “No sign of fossils or other materials in the strata, but there are poisonous amounts of chemicals and a two-foot layer of ash beyond them. The complex is huge and very clean. I’m picking up five levels with another two or three underneath.”

Apollie frowned at the bare, white walls. “Where are the records?”

“This way.” Rayem pivoted and glided down the long corridor.

Nell dragged her fingertips over the smooth surface. They tingled as the fermites left her body. What did it mean?

Bei’s shoulder brushed hers. “Do you feel something? Like you did when you spied the pillar?”

“No. With the pillar, I felt a connection. It was like...” She shrugged. “It’s just another building.”

“Not just any building. I think Davena’s people hid here.” Doc’s diag beam fell dark. “I’ll have to run more tests. But if the planet’s soil is as toxic as I think, then the only way life could exist here is if the fermites formed the basis for it.”

Halfway down the mile long tunnel, doors appeared. Yellow, red, and blue paint glistened on the metal. Names were stenciled in black on the pristine surface.

“Why would the fermites do that?” Nell clamped her lips closed before she mentioned the
Terminator
movies. No point in giving the tiny technobots an idea.

Bei clasped his hands behind his back. “Could be Davena’s ancestors created them here.”

Doc hugged his suitcase to his chest. “Or the fermites developed a sort of sentience on their own. They need energy and living materials to reproduce. It is to their benefit to form an alliance with biologics, keep them alive.”

“So the Meek are nothing but a benevolent parasite?” Nell’s feet grew heavier with each step. She covered a yawn.

A railing appeared at the end of the hallway. Rayem veered to the right. A ramp spun along the edges of the circular room. Rock vaulted overhead. Tables and chairs filled the cavern. Vines sprouted from clay pots. Fist-sized strawberries, raspberries and blackberries drooped from leaves that formed a green curtain around the dining area.

“The fermites are not a parasite but a symbiotic life-form.” Doc frowned at her.

Her boots scuffed the marble floor as she shuffled forward. Lead pooled in her fingertips. She hadn’t felt this tired in a long while.

Bei wrapped his arm around her waist. “Your power cells are fully charged but your body is fatigued.”

She shook herself. “Davena promised us a room. Maybe I’ll lie down while you guys study the records.”

Rayem swept a curtain of vines aside. A silver door filled the opening. “I’ll be happy to take you to your assigned room, Oracle Nell Stafford.”

Nell shivered. Her mother used to use her first, middle, and last name when Nell was in trouble. While oracle wasn’t a name per se, she was way out of her depth here.

Bei swept her up in his arms. “Where is this room?”

Nell sank into her husband’s strength. He always knew the right thing to do.

“Through the silver door.” Rayem pointed to the visible portal.

Apollie plucked off a handful of strawberries. “And the records?”

Rayem pulled the vines open further. Writing covered the wall space between doors. “There are several floors containing our records. These are the most recent.”

Apollie strolled left. Doc followed the words on the right.

Thorns snagged Nell’s hair when Bei carried her through the living curtain. She rested her ear against her husband’s chest. His strong heartbeat echoed in his chest. Her eyes drifted closed. She rubbed at the grit and forced them open.

Rayem scampered ahead and threw open the door.

A king-sized bed filled the room. Four brass pegs adorned the wall on the right. A metal chair sat in the corner at the head of the bed. No dresser, no nightstand, not even an on-suite. Thankfully, she didn’t have to use the facilities.

Rayem peeled back a coverlet the color of cherry taffy.

Bei set her on the bed. “Need help removing your boots?”

Nell sank into the mattress. Foam cupped her from head to toe. It was nice, but she preferred to feel her husband spooning her. Warm liquid drained down her legs and through her toes as her boots melted off her.

The left side of Bei’s mouth quirked. “Guess not.”

Numb fingers clutched at his shirt. She tugged and he leaned over her. “I’ll need help with the rest. Later.”

“Later.” His lips slanted across hers, gentle but firm. A kiss of comfort and promise.

If she wasn’t so tired... Her brain box pinged.

Bei caressed her mind.
I’m here if you need me.

Love you.
Nell closed her eyes. She was too tired to turn over.

He swept her hair out of her face. She felt him move away and the door ease closed.

“Leave it ajar.” Steel laced Bei’s voice.

“Of course,” Rayem murmured. “Shall I show you the other records?”

“I’ll stay on this level.”

Nell snuggled deeper into the blankets. That was her husband, always looking after her. She opened her eyes to slits. A blade of light from the open door slashed the darkness.

Blue script flowed on the wall opposite her. Nell Stafford.
Interesting potential.

What the hell did that mean? The temperature of the room dropped. Fermites swarmed her, sealing her eyes closed and robbing her of consciousness.

Deep inside the shelter, Bei eased the door to his and Nell’s bedroom closed. For a moment there... He shook his head. His wife curled into a ball under the blankets, her head nestled in a pillow and soft, even breaths slipped past her parted lips. She was fine. Everything was fine.

Doc’s footfalls whispered behind Bei. “The adrenalin spike?”

“Probably just some memory right before she drifted off.” Sometimes his wife’s erratic thoughts woke her up. Other times, exhaustion swallowed it. Today, Nell had pushed herself to the brink of permanent failure. Clasping his hands behind his back, Bei shifted his attention to his Chief Medical Officer. “Unless, there is something you are not telling me?”

“You know her better than anyone.” Doc scratched the hair on his chin. “Do you think...”

“I think if it was important, she would have woken and told me.” Nell couldn’t keep anything to herself if she considered it important. Unhooking his hands, Bei set his palm against the wall. His sensors detected no laser, diamond saw, or other tool markings. “Fermites.”

“That would be my guess.” Doc sent a data package on his scans of the writing. “I don’t like that the atomic pests can turn solid into liquid without warning.”

Ignoring the new packet, Bei replayed the image of Nell sunk forearm deep in the pillar. It had been a controlled immersion. Her struggles hadn’t sunk her further inside, nor had they released her. Bei closed out the visual and opened the file—Doc had assessed Nell’s condition after her encounter with the obelisk. She’d registered as fundamentally unchanged.

And she was not pregnant.

Bei cocked an eyebrow.

“I thought you’d want to know.” Red spotted Doc’s tan cheeks. “I mean about the...her arms. The other was routine.” Chewing on the mustache of his goatee, he cleared his throat. “Besides, given the fermites’ abilities, I thought it best to check, to see if they had messed with anything else.”

Bei blinked. Even his programming couldn’t reset to that paradigm. “Nell Stafford is an amazing woman, more adaptable than our software, but I doubt even she could become pregnant through her hands.”

And if she ever did, he’d insist she wear latex gloves for the next hundred or so years.

Paladin Apollie parted the curtain of fruit vines separating the hallway from the dining area. Licking crimson berry juice from her fingers, she shoved an etablet at Bei’s gut. “This hall of records is a bust. Nothing but a genealogy chart. I couldn’t even find evidence of the Surlat strain outbreak.”

“It’s on the deck below.” Doc flipped open the tip of his pinky finger and jacked into the port of the etablet. The screen flickered yellow and blue, and information winked on and off. His sclera turned as black as his irises. “Five extra deaths in one year.”

“Five.” Apollie snorted. “That’s hardly a pandemic.”

“It is for Davena’s people.”

Bei detected the softening in his officer’s voice.

Doc logged out of the etablet and pushed it back toward the feather-headed Skaperian. “The native population remained a constant for the two millennia that I checked. When a child was born, someone died.”

The hair on Bei’s neck stood straight up. “Fermite population control?”

“Maybe, initially. I don’t have enough data to formulate a hypothesis.” Doc shrugged. “After the Plague hit, the population started to decline. Fewer births were recorded every year and more deaths. Even without the Founders’ threats of violence, Davena’s people are dying. Within two generations, they will be extinct.”

If his Chief Medical Officer could convince the biologics, the relocation was as good as done. “Will you relay that to the oracle?”

Doc nodded then shook his head. “You may be placing too high a value on my charms.”

“What charms?” Apollie chuckled. “He talks to Davena’s toes, his skin changes colors, and he practically drools when he peeks at her from under his lashes.”

“I have never drooled.” Doc took a step toward her.

Bei set his hands on his hips. Should he intervene or let them fight it out?

“Calm down.” Apollie patted Doc’s shoulder. “It’s perfectly proper behavior from a weak male when he wants to garner a strong female’s attention. For a featherless, grotesque-limbed creature, you’re not the ugliest of specimens.”

Doc opened and closed his mouth several times.

Bei’s outrage tumbled into humor. Skaperian superiority knew no bounds.

Apollie double-tapped a file Doc had inserted in her etablet when he’d copied her findings. A bar graph filled the screen—the steps led down to nil. “I concur with your findings, but wonder at the cause. You found no microbes on the planet. We know through Nell Stafford’s efforts, that even fatal injuries can be healed. So what is causing the population decline?”

Doc crossed his arms. “Well, if you want a feeble Human male’s thoughts, I have two hypotheses.”

Tilting her head, Apollie sighed. “My apologies, Doc. I can see that you have taken offense at my observation.”

Doc rolled his eyes.

An ache built at the back of Bei’s skull. All sides had gaps to close in this new alliance. Of course, Syn-Ens were accustomed to discrimination by biologics. But it had not been gender based, only about their technology.

She patted Doc’s shoulder again.”You’re educated in your field, can call up data with little more than a thought, and have decades of experience. Your opinion is valid and your conclusions are undoubtedly correct.”

Bei cocked an eyebrow. That apology came a little too easily.

“I must work on overcoming a lifetime of seeing men weakened by their emotions and having it color their normally sound judgments, especially when they are involved in courting.”

Bei replayed the feather-head’s speech. Thanks to his time with Nell, he recognized the whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ nuances to Apollie’s apology. Did his Chief Medical Officer?

Doc smoothed his uniform tunic. “Yes, well, you need to work on that.” Taking a deep breath, he finger-combed his black hair. “My first thought was that some kind of off-world contact occurred.”

Apollie’s thin lips turned down at the corners. “I checked the quarantine monitors since we were dispatched to Surlat. For the last century, this world has remained isolated. Neither has there been an asteroid strike nor meteor shower.”

Bei checked the CIC. Was it possible that the satellite caught all incoming space debris? Earth’s moon didn’t. Nor had Jupiter’s dozens of moons. He sent a query to double-check the Skaperian’s facts.

Doc waved his hand. “I dismissed it just as easily. The fermites act as both viral and microbial life on Surlat. If they are sentient and dependent on living organisms for their own lifecycle, the fermites would protect their hosts by destroying anything potentially threatening.”

Nell gasped and mumbled in her sleep. Their conversation must be disturbing her.

Bei parted the berry vines hanging from the top floor to this one. Fist-sized raspberries and strawberries knocked together. He stepped through the green curtain into the communal dining area, knowing the others would follow. “You will still make the vaccines.”

Across the clusters of tables and chairs, Rayem plucked berries, filling the square grass basket in his hands. Leaves caught in his beard, withered and browned before dissolving in a cascade of sparkles. “The new oracle will be hungry when she awakens.”

Bei swallowed a growl. Yet, another claim on Nell Stafford. “My wife will appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

Humming softly, Rayem collected the harvest.

“Of course, I plan to work on a vaccine.” Doc hefted his portable lab onto the table. Metal scraped metal. He set his thumbs on the biometric keypad and the latches popped open. “There’s no telling if the fermites will protect Davena and her people once they relocate.”

Apollie slid her etablet onto the smooth metal surface. It glided to a stop next to Doc’s suitcase. Standing on tiptoe, she collected the berries Rayem had missed. “So you’ve eliminated one idea. What is the second?”

Doc removed trays of sensors and leads from the suitcase. “The Human body is either becoming allergic to the fermites, causing fetuses carrying them to spontaneously abort. Or, when the population dipped five below the standard, the ratio of fermites increased enough to draw a critical amount of energy from the Human hosts, lowering fertility and fecundity, and creating a positive feedback loop.”