Val Vega, page 23
One Hoshan has her foot caught under the weight of a Levinti tentacle. I lift the tentacle so she can get out, then carry her to the safety of the alcove. I fly back and forth from the lower level to the alcove, helping every injured Hoshan I see, Timoteo and Pash-Ti doing the same.
The room has nearly been cleared out when I see a group of Hoshans clustered around a Levinti body, dangerously close to the flames, making no move for the exit. Four of them are crouched at the side of the Levinti corpse, as if trying to burrow beneath it. “What are you doing?” I say. “We need to get out of here, fast!”
One of them stands up on his hind legs and signs. “She’s still alive,” comes the frantic translation. “We hear her desperate thoughts. She’s trapped under there, and we can’t get to her.”
Now I understand—the Hoshans are trying to get underneath and push up a portion of the body. I crouch and try to help, but it’s hard to get a grip on the Levinti’s slimy skin, and it’s surprisingly heavy, even deflated. I expected it to be like an empty parachute, but it’s more like a giant tire, its empty hide thick and bulky. Between all four Hoshans and me, all we can do is lift the edge of the Levinti’s body a few inches off the ground.
“Checkers,” I say, standing up and catching my breath. “Can we use your antigravity to lift this Levinti?”
“I’m afraid I lack the power for an antigravity field for such a large mass,” Checkers says. “However, if you were to gain appropriate leverage, I could generate an antigravity field to augment the force of your own strength over a limited portion of the Levinti’s body.”
I think for a second. “I guess that means I’d pretty much have to get under it.”
“Correct, Madame Ambassador.”
Shoot. The flames are everywhere now and soon there’ll be no way out. But if someone is alive under there, there’s no way I’m leaving her behind.
“All right,” I say to the other Hoshans. “I’m going to try to get under there and lift up more of it. As soon as you have room, I need you to pull out the Hoshan who’s under there.”
The Hoshans nod agreement. I get into crawling position and slide myself under the Levinti’s body. It’s slimy, and surprisingly clumpy. Could those be its internal organs? Another thought I have to push from my mind. I imagine I’m just crawling through a moist cave. I push myself further long, so that my entire upper body is beneath the Levinti. The weight is overwhelming, like crawling under a mountain of slimy rocks. But I keep going, drawing in my legs as well. With all my strength, I push myself up on all fours, taking even more of the Levinti’s weight onto my back.
“Checkers,” I grunt, “can you give me a hand now?”
“Of course, Madame Ambassador,” Checkers says, and suddenly the weight on my back lightens a bit. I lift my arms above me and push the Levinti’s body up, then lift myself into a crouching position. All around me, the Levinti’s skin forms a slimy tent, one of its edges just a few inches above the ground, letting in a ray of light. The trapped Hoshan is right there, lying on the ground beneath me, her lower legs still caught beneath the Levinti’s body. In the dim lighting, it takes me a few seconds to realize it’s Trimana.
Even with Checkers’ help, I’ve reached the limits of my strength, and I still haven’t gotten the Levinti’s skin high enough for Trimana to get out. All my muscles groan in pain as I push them even further, extending my arms to push the Levinti’s skin up just a few inches higher. With the weight lessened, Trimana digs into the floor with her front claws, dragging herself out from under the Levinti. Two of the other Hoshans scurry under the tent that I’ve created. My arms tremble beneath the Levinti’s weight as they help Trimana struggle out from beneath the giant jelly’s skin.
As soon as they’re out safely, I collapse, my body sinking to the ground, the weight of the Levinti’s body still heavy on my back. Slowly, I crawl my way back out from under the Levinti, too physically exhausted to even think. I’m drenched in sweat and Levinti fluids.
One of the Hoshans helps me up as I make my way out into the light. We’re surrounded on all sides by thick smoke and crackling fires.
“There’s no way out,” one of the Hoshans says. “We’re completely trapped.”
I look up wearily toward the alcove, but can’t see anything through the smoke. I pick up Trimana, cradling her in my arms. “Grab onto me,” I say to the other four Hoshans. “I don’t have the strength to lift any more of you, so you’re just going to have to hold on.” I can only half-feel the sensations of my own body, claws digging through my clothes and into my skin as two of the Hoshans climb onto my back. The other two grab hold of my legs.
“Bring us up to the alcove, Checkers,” I say, panting for air. “And I need you to guide us right up to the exit, because I can’t see a thing.”
“Of course, Madame Ambassador,” Checkers says, and then I’m soaring through the air, five Hoshans clinging to my body. The entire chamber is filled with smoke, and even the alcove is engulfed by the flames. But Charism is still there, waiting at the exit.
Checkers sets us down right next to Charism. My legs can’t hold me up any longer. I collapse on the floor panting and coughing. I don’t have any control of my body anymore, it’s just this useless thing that happens to house all my senses. I lie helplessly as one of the larger Hoshans lifts up Trimana and carries her to the door. Without speaking a word out loud, Charism and the remaining three Hoshans each take me by one of my limbs and carry me. My eyes flutter closed, and when I open them again there’s less smoke. The ceiling looks different, the walls closer together. My body bounces along, much too heavy for the Hoshans, even four of them, and half the time they drag me instead of carrying me.
As consciousness leaves me completely, all I can think of is Timoteo, and Johnny, and Pash-Ti, and all those Hoshans who were hurt. I pray they all got out in time.
Chapter 20
I wake up to what sounds like a dozen showers running. My body aches all over. Then Checkers’ gentle voice: “Judging by your elevated blood pressure, I believe you’ve regained consciousness, Madame Ambassador, and I’m much relieved. I’m terribly sorry I wasn’t able to protect you properly. The co-factors of smoke, Tumasra fumes, and Hosh’s lower oxygen level forced me to shift from filtration to direct molecular production of O2, but that process is cumbersome, and I fear my slowness caused you to suffer oxygen deprivation—”
“Thanks, Checkers.” I’m still too groggy to open my eyes. “You saved my life.”
“I’m honored to be of service,” Checkers says. “I’ve deployed med-bots to repair the damage to your lungs and other minor injuries. They’re at work as I speak.”
“Val?” It’s Timoteo’s voice. “Are you talking to your suit? You okay?”
My eyes flutter open. Timoteo’s a friendly blur. “Hey, Tim. I’m okay.” My vision comes into focus. Timoteo’s face is covered with grime, his hair disheveled. “The others,” I say, lifting my head to see. “Are they okay?”
Timoteo cradles my head in his arms. “Take it easy, Val-Val. You got quite a workout. Pash-Ti’s fine, they’re talking with some other diplomats. Johnny … I’m not sure.” He looks to his right, where Johnny’s body is lying a few feet away. His torso is armless, an oddly emaciated trunk bridging his legs and his head. “I mean, he’s Synthetic. He’s got to be fixable, right?”
“I hope so.” It’s startling to see Johnny helpless. I think of him as a Synthetic Superman.
A Hoshan pads up to us on all six legs, raises her two front arms in the air and looks at me with concern. As she signs with her claws, the translation comes, “The patient has awoken.”
“This is Leresta,” Timoteo says. “She helped get you to safety.”
“Only after the Ambassador saved all our lives,” Leresta says. “I’m relieved you’re well, Madame Ambassador. Too many souls have left us today.”
The med-bots must be working, because my aches are easing. I pull myself up to a sitting position, leaning back against a stone bench. We’re in a park near Tumasra, a field of purple grass dotted with cylindrical stone benches. All around, Hoshans are lying on cots, and others are treating them with bandages and ointments. In the valley below, the windows of the Citadel are shattered, its walls blackened, billowing plumes of smoke. A net of thick ropes hangs along the sides of the Citadel. A dozen Hoshans climb nimbly along the ropes on all six legs. Cylindrical canisters are strapped to their backs, releasing what looks like a spray of snowflakes into the remaining fires. That’s the sound I’ve been hearing.
“I’m glad to see you’re well, Ambassador,” says a Hoshan on a nearby cot. It’s Trimana, one hind leg bound in a yellow bandage. I don’t think Etoscans have shared med-bot tech with the North Hoshans. How much faster could these Hoshans recover with that technology?
Charism scurries toward us, apparently unharmed. “You have all our gratitude, Valiant One. You have proved your parents to be skilled in the art of naming.”
It’s hard to hear any praise when I’ve failed. I could have—should have—prevented all of this. I should have paid more attention to Marrow’s threats.
“The fault for this disaster lies not with you, Valiant One,” Charism says. “We all received the threats from Marrow and had intelligence of increased activity from the Hosh-Unam Front. But they’ve never had weapons so advanced before …” He frowns in my direction, whiskers pointing toward the ground. He’s had the same thought as I have—the energy surge. I try to steer my thoughts, though I’m not sure there’s any point in that now.
Trimana looks toward me and Charism, ears pricked up. She leans forward in her cot. “All of us bear the burden for this tragedy. Our intelligence warned us as well, but there’s always chatter of another Hosh-Unam Front attack. We’d no reasonable way to predict …” She looks at the destruction around us, then buries her face in the fur of her shoulder. I’ve never seen her so emotive. “And the devastation is not only here. The Southern Capital was attacked as well. A swarm of bots attacked every Levinti in their path, killing hundreds.”
“The bots must have been engineered to target the Etoscan and Levinti genomes,” Timoteo mutters, half to himself.
“Yes,” Charism says. “Marrow has put out a statement taking credit for the attack. He says that the bots were used only to attack our so-called oppressors, that not a single Hoshan was killed.”
Trimana stands up on her uninjured hind leg. The Hoshan tending her wounds clutches her shoulders, gently trying to ease her back onto the cot. “Marrow well knows the consequences when a Levinti dies and deflates on a world like Hosh, with so much oxygen in the air! In the South it was even worse. A rain of Levinti corpses falling all across the city. Explosions everywhere, the city in flames. Thousands of Hoshans were injured or killed!”
“This is the worst act of mass violence Hosh has seen in a generation,” Charism says, walking toward Trimana on his two hindmost legs. “Marrow cares nothing for the death of ten thousand Hoshans, so long as he advances his objectives.”
“The only objective he’s achieved is the certainty of war,” Trimana says. “From the moment the treaty expires, both North and South will be consumed.”
“Too often,” Charism says, “our thoughts have flowed in opposing currents, but in this our thoughts flow as one. Our hearts are emptied of hope. War is upon us.”
Pash-Ti comes over and helps me to my feet. I’m still sore and light-headed. Timoteo isn’t in great shape either—his sprained foot is in a makeshift splint.
“The two of you should rest for a few hours,” Pash-Ti says. “Then we must discuss our options, limited as they may be.”
Timoteo looks down at Johnny’s motionless, emaciated body. “What about Johnny?”
“He requires a specialist familiar with Synthetic medical engineering,” Pash-Ti says. “With no such specialist on Hosh, his care will have to be deferred until after the more immediate crisis. His body will keep in the meantime.”
“His body will keep?” Timoteo says. “How can you talk like that?”
I look at the ground, wishing Pash-Ti had more tact. Crawling through the purple grass is a red ant-like creature. Behind it is another ant, and behind that, another. A long trail of red ant-like creatures crawling from the Citadel to Johnny’s body.
“Hey guys,” I say, “I think Johnny might be okay.”
The horde of ants is overrunning Johnny’s torso, one by one re-integrating themselves into his body. His half-formed body sits up. “Whoa. Anybody get the number of that truck?”
“Johnny!” Timoteo says. “Thank God you’re okay.”
Pash-Ti’s eyestalks extend toward Johnny. “Indeed. What an unexpected relief.”
A few hours later, I feel more rested, but still sore. I’m sitting at the edge of a bed, drinking water and munching on a protein bar. My “bed” is actually three circular Hoshan mattresses pushed together to make a human-sized bed. Pash-Ti took us to this Hoshan guest house for visiting dignitaries, just outside Tumasra, so we could sleep and treat our injuries, particularly Timoteo’s foot, which is taking time for the med-bots to repair.
In the corridor outside, there’s the pitter patter of Hoshan footsteps. Trimana enters, walking uncomfortably on five legs. Her left rear leg is still in a cast. “I hope I’m not disturbing you, Ambassador?”
“No, please, sit down,” I say. Just looking at Trimana’s injured leg makes me wince. She and the South Hosh delegation came here for treatment too.
Trimana climbs onto the chair by my bed, curling up in it so that all her weight is on her right side, favoring her uninjured leg. “I owe you both my thanks and apologies, Ambassador. I treated you with suspicion and hostility when you came to Hosh. But despite my mistrust, you have responded with nothing but respect and unam. Today you saved my life.”
“Thank you,” I say. “But I’m sure anyone would have done the same.”
“If you could see others’ minds, you would know that is not so. It’s not simply that you saved my life that moved me. It was the shape of your mind during the attack. You barely gave a thought to your own survival. Your thoughts dwelled upon your familial, yes. But you thought barely at all of yourself. Indeed, much of the time your mind was unclouded by thoughts. You were simply acting, courageous compassion flowing across your mind. And your compassion was not bound by your species or your world. Your compassion for me and my fellow Hoshans was as great as your compassion for your fellow Terrans. That is something I’ve rarely seen.”
My cheeks flush. The intensity of her praise is overwhelming, especially when I don’t deserve it.
“In any case, I must leave for the South while I still can. We’ll likely never see each other again, and so I came to share my thanks, and my farewell.”
“But what about the talks?” I say.
“The talks have been suspended, indefinitely,” Trimana says. “The Etoscans and Levinti are preparing for war. Soon the border will be closed completely. I must be with my own people now, to do all I can to protect them from the destruction to come. My deputies are already evacuating the border towns. Perhaps we can minimize the initial casualties.”
“But there must be something we can do,” I say. “We still have three days before the treaty expires. If we can get the Etoscans and the Levinti back to the negotiating table—”
“They were always only feigning interest in peace,” Trimana says. “Now, the Hosh-Unam Front’s devastating attack has given them all the pretext they need for war. They’ve proved we’re as primitive as they say.”
“There’s got to be someone who’ll listen to reason,” I say.
“The most reasonable of the Etoscans and Levinti died in that chamber last night. Speaker is dead. Kantroponar is dead. I’m not even dealing with the Levinti Academy for Colonial Governance anymore. The Academy of Military Studies has assumed control of Southern Hosh. I’ve dealt with them before, but they’ve never been in charge, not in my lifetime. They’ve spent centuries making a science of war. I assure you, Ambassador, they’ve no interest in peace.”
After the attack, I felt so relieved that Timoteo, Johnny, Pash-Ti, and Trimana had all survived, that we saved all but a handful of Hoshans. I thought we could continue the negotiations despite the Hosh-Unam Front’s attack. I’ve been so naïve.
“Yes,” Trimana says. “It was somewhat naïve of you. But it is only natural that you, having such a noble mind, yet being mind-deaf, should assume that other minds are as noble as yours. I wish it were so.” She climbs down from the chair, walking on her five uninjured legs. “Farewell, Ambassador. I suggest you return to your own world, to your own problems. There’s no more you can do for us here. Thank you again for saving my life. If ever I may reciprocate your kindness, I assure you I shall do so.” With those words, Trimana limps out of the room.
Minutes later, Pash-Ti is at my bedside. The ceiling is too low for them to stand, so they sit on a circular Hoshan chair, long legs tucked in a spider-like squat.
“Can’t I do something?” I ask them. “As mediator?”
“I’ve already attempted to contact Listener on your behalf, as well as the newly assigned Levinti Professor of Military Studies. None have replied. After the attack, all are focused on preparations for war.” Pash-Ti leans their spindly grey torso in close. “Listen, Ambassador—Valeria—there is another option. You know there are other forces at work here, something else that Umberto discovered, something important enough that he was assassinated. Our only hope now is to find out what he knew. That information might allow us to turn the tide for peace.”
That’s what I’ve been trying to do from the start. “I agree, but how?”
Pash-Ti leans back again. “Johnny is the key. I still believe it was he who betrayed Umberto. Wasn’t it convenient that—for the second time—he was disabled so easily by primitive insurgents? That he then recovered so quickly after the attack? It’s improbable that the Hosh-Unam Front attained such advanced technology so quickly without assistance, and even more improbable that an advanced Synthetic warlord like Johnny was so easily overpowered. The simplest explanation is that Johnny feigned being incapacitated—and indeed has been working with the Hosh-Unam Front all along—including providing them with more advanced swarm technology for the attack.”
