Fiction River: Moonscapes, page 23
“Why?” the boy asked her. Yeah, no social skills. He didn’t even acknowledge Washington’s existence beyond his appearance.
“We want to make sure you’re safe as you leave here,” she said.
“And that will do it?” the boy asked, nodding his head toward the suit.
“It will help,” she said.
Washington set the suit on the table between them. The boy looked at it, then looked at Washington.
“I can’t wear this,” the boy said, his voice trembling.
“It should fit,” Washington said.
“It’s for an Elder,” the boy said.
“It’s for someone we need to keep safe,” Gomez said. “Remember, the rules here are different from the dome rules. We decide who gets to wear the good suit.”
The boy reached out with his right hand. He touched the suit ever so lightly. Then he glanced up at her.
“This is a trick,” he said.
“No trick,” she said.
“You do not wear a suit,” he said.
“My clothing gives me protection,” she said, instead of the thing she originally thought: No one’s trying to kill me.
His eyes narrowed. She could see him weighing his options, trying to figure out what to do next.
Maybe we should explain that we’re on his side? Washington sent through the links.
Are we? She sent back. We have no idea who he is or why they tried to kill him. For all we know, he’s defective and they were just protecting their enclave.
Damn strange way to protect it, Washington sent.
She agreed. But she wasn’t going to make any assumptions. Not yet.
Finally, the boy took the suit. He held it in front of himself as if he didn’t know what to do with it.
“Just step into it,” Washington said. “It’ll do the rest.”
The boy looked up, startled that Washington had spoken to him. Then the boy touched the interior of the suit, sniffed it, and rubbed his fingers against the edge. He glanced at Washington again, as if he could tell if Washington were lying to him just by speaking.
Finally, the boy put one foot inside the suit, and then the other. His face registered panic for just an instant, and then the suit closed around him.
Gomez half expected to see him flail. He didn’t. He didn’t do anything for a long moment after the suit assembled itself on him. Slowly he raised a hand and looked at it.
She knew how he was feeling. The suit was heavier than expected, and it had information running along the bottom of the visor: temperature, oxygen levels, even danger fields—if it were programmed that way. She wasn’t sure this one was.
Finally the boy lowered his arm. “Do I get a weapon?” he asked. He nodded toward Washington’s laser pistol.
Gomez cursed silently. She had hoped he wouldn’t notice it.
“No,” she said. Then she sent an override command to the boy’s suit. It would be under her direction. The boy could make it do minimal things—move, walk, change the information on the visor. But she could stop it at any point, shut it down, or make any part of it buckle.
In other words, she could send it tumbling to the ground if need be—with the boy in it.
“I am a good shot,” the boy said.
“I’m sure you are,” she said. “But for now, you’ll have the suit.”
“They’re not supposed to go back until I’m dead,” he said.
“You told me that,” she said.
We’re searching for the twelve, Washington sent.
I know, she sent, disappointed that Washington couldn’t tell her that the twelve had been found. We’ll worry about them when we have to. Let’s just concentrate on getting out of here.
And keeping an eye on that kid, Washington sent.
That too, she replied, and glanced at the boy who looked very uncomfortable. That too.
***
Gomez led him out of the room. Washington followed him. The Eaufasse said nothing, just stepped in with them. Okani looked at the boy in the suit, raised his eyebrows, and widened his eyes on purpose, as if to say, Jeez, how come I don’t get one?
She wanted to reassure him that he would be safe. But she couldn’t reassure anyone. Through her private link, she contacted Rainger.
Any news of the twelve?
He sent, They didn’t return to the enclave. We caught glimpses of them in the area around it. I think they’re looking for the boy.
Send us some backup. I’m bringing him to the Stanley.
Already have, Rainger sent. I arranged a few more guides too. The Eaufasse should be bringing them soon.
Any way to know if the twelve are near this building? She sent.
They haven’t been sighted anywhere near you, he sent back.
Then we’ll leave. The boy has armor. We should be all right.
The backup will meet you about halfway, Rainger sent.
She figured that would be enough. She sent her plan through the links to Washington. He nodded.
“We’ll surround you as we walk,” she said to the boy.
He glanced at the Eaufasse. Then he said something to it.
The Eaufasse responded quickly, putting its arms on top of its head.
He’s asking if they know anything about a ship. The Eaufasse said they do, and they approve, Okani sent to her.
She nodded slightly. “Everything all right?” she asked the boy.
“Do I have a choice?” he asked.
She sighed. They could wait, she supposed. She wasn’t sure what it would cost them, if anything.
Hey, Gomez, another voice chirruped on her links. Got a minute?
She recognized the identification. It was Lashante. Gomez put a hand to her ear, the universal sign of an activated link.
“Give me one second,” she said to the group and walked a little ways down the corridor.
I’m about to take the boy to our ship, she sent. Can this wait?
I dunno, Lashante sent. That’s why I figured you’d get to choose. We identified the original.
The source of the clone.
And I need to know this now?
Well, it’s creepy, if nothing else, Lashante sent. Your original is PierLuigi Frémont.
The name sounded familiar. Gomez frowned. Why would she know that name?
Before you dismiss this information or try to look it up on your own, just listen, Lashante sent. PierLuigi Frémont committed genocide in three different colonies. When he got caught, he killed himself. That was more than forty years ago.
She remembered now. Something about one of humanity’s worst offenders. Lots of discussion in school about ways that naturally bred humans could go wrong. Whether such creatures as Frémont were human at all, even though they looked and sounded like humans. Even though he was born rather than grown.
And he left no orders for clones? Gomez asked, feeling a little unsettled.
I’d have to research it, Lashante sent. I’m guessing not.
Damn. That meant they were dealing with True Believers in that enclave, True Believers who—it looked like—were trying to recreate a mass murderer.
Gomez shivered. She would wait to contact the enclave until the Military Guards arrived. This wasn’t something she would handle on her own.
She thanked Lashante and contacted Rainger. Backup land yet?
Yeah. They’re not far from you, he sent.
Good. The sooner she got off this moon, the better. This kid was going to be a wealth of knowledge about something the Earth Alliance clearly needed to know. Why breed clones from someone like Frémont? There had to be a reason, and the boy might hold the key.
She made her way back down the hall. The boy had been talking with the Eaufasse. It looked at her, and she thought she saw guilt. She had no idea how she would know that.
Everything all right? she sent Okani.
Thirds is still trying to make sure the Eaufasse don’t want him.
Do they want him? She sent.
Not at all, Okani sent.
Good. She smiled at the boy. “We’re leaving.”
He swallowed. She knew what his reaction was. It was fear.
“We’ll protect you,” she said, emphasizing the word “protect.”
Washington looked at her.
The others are nearly here, she sent.
I think we should have weapons out just in case, he sent.
I think we should keep as much of an eye on this boy as we have on the area around us, she sent, but she didn’t dissuade him.
She arranged the group. First the Eaufasse. Then Washington. Then the boy and Okani. She would follow, along with the last Eaufasse. It wasn’t quite the perfect formation, but it would do until the backup arrived.
The Eaufasse led them down yet another corridor she hadn’t seen before. This outpost was much bigger than she had expected.
Finally, the Eaufasse reached the main door. Using both hands, it pushed the door open. Washington peered out, made certain the area was clear, and then signaled the others to follow.
The boy stepped out, hand over his visor as the light changed. Apparently, he hadn’t yet figured out how to handle the visuals.
She stepped out as well. The plants were rustling. They gave off a stinkweed stench, very different from the vanilla and sweat from earlier. She wondered what caused the things to change. She wished she understood them better.
The final Eaufasse closed the doors behind them. The first Eaufasse headed toward the path, as the rustling got louder.
Then twelve boys popped up out of the plants.
Twelve boys who looked just like the boy she had in custody.
That boy—Thirds—reached for Washington’s pistol, but Washington elbowed him backwards. Gomez had her pistol out as well.
Need backup now, she sent on all FSS channels. Double-time.
She got chatter in response. The boys all had laser rifles, and they were all aimed at the boy behind Washington.
“Let him go,” one of the boys said. “He belongs to us.”
Thirds was silent. Okani had moved back toward Gomez, nearly knocking her aside. She pushed him against the outpost’s exterior.
The plants waved.
“We’re taking him with us,” Gomez said. “Why don’t you join us?”
“Forbidden ones,” the first boy sneered. “We would never go with you.”
He waved his laser rifle at Thirds. Thirds grabbed his helmet and yanked it off.
Idiot. He would die if they shot him now.
He made a chittering sound as she overrode his removal command. The gloves of his suit forced his arms upwards, and replaced the helmet. He chittered loudly, until the helmet went on. Then the sound got blocked.
“Fire,” the first boy said to the others.
Washington pivoted so that he could shoot the boys’ leader, and Gomez leaned to one side so that she had a clear shot of the others.
But before the boys could shoot, their laser rifles bent sideways. The plants wrapped around them, and pulled the laser rifles aside. Then the plants enveloped the boys.
The Eaufasse were chittering as well. The boys started screaming. The tips of those plants were burrowing into their skin.
“Are they doing that?” she asked Okani.
“How the hell should I know?” he said.
“Make them stop. We need those boys alive.”
Not that they would live much longer. The tips of the plants were burrowing deep.
Okani spoke quickly in Fasse. Washington kept pivoting, moving his pistol as if he were looking for a target. She pivoted as well.
Boy command. Boy command, the translator Eaufasse sent through the joint foreign-marshal link.
What does that mean? She sent.
Boy must no say, the translator sent.
Somehow the words connected. The boy sent the command?
Yes, the translator sent. Boy must no say.
She got that too. She cursed, then overrode the command for the helmet. She kept her pistol in one hand, but with the other, she yanked off the boy’s helmet.
“You started this,” she said. “You stop it.”
“They must die,” he said calmly. How could he be so calm? “They tried to kill me.”
“And now they won’t,” she said. “I need them alive.”
“Why?” he asked.
She couldn’t answer that in less than five seconds. “Stop it or I’ll make your damn suit strangle you just like they’re being strangled.”
Now, she saw fear. He knew she could do it.
He chittered. The plants stopped moving.
“Tell the plants to listen to the Eaufasse,” she said.
He frowned.
“Tell them, or I will hurt you,” she said.
“They’re not plants,” he said, confirming what she had suspected.
“Do it anyway,” she said.
He chittered again. The plants—or whatever they were—turned some of their tips toward the Eaufasse.
“Okani,” she snapped. “You tell the Eaufasse to tell these plants or creatures or whatever the hell they are to hold the boys, but not burrow into them. And give the rifles to Washington.”
Okani began to speak rapidly in Fasse. He looked terrified, the color on his cheeks high. The Eaufasse bobbed, then chittered. The plants pulled their tips out of the boys and wrapped them gently like loose ropes.
The boys did not move.
Blood flowed along the dry ground, and past Washington, running into the boy’s feet. He just looked down at it, as if it didn’t bother him.
Gomez shuddered.
The rustling had stopped, but she still heard something. She finally realized what it was. The backup had arrived.
I need medics and restraints, she sent. Quickly.
She knew what was happening down that trail. Those assistants with medical training would move to the front of the lines. The rest would pull out their restraints as they moved.
She took the boy’s hands and pulled them behind him. She put him in restraints, even though she had his suit on lock-down. He wouldn’t get any more control of the suit.
“You planned this,” she said to him.
He looked at her sideways. “Not this,” he said.
“Yes, you did,” she said. “You taught yourself Fasse, you learned how to control the plants. You planned to kill them.”
“That is true,” he said. “I planned to kill them. All of them. As part of the twelve. I never expected to be the hunted. Now I can go back. I am still the victor.”
His blue eyes were flat, his expression calm. All that empathy she had felt for him, all of that concern. Gone, in an instant.
“You’re never going back,” she said. “I can promise you that.”
***
It took most of her team to clean up the mess. Seven boys died, and the other five were so badly injured that no one was certain if they would survive. She had placed Thirds in the most powerful holding cell she had, and she kept the sound off.
The Eaufasse were relieved she had handled him. They had no idea he had learned how to manipulate the plants. Which weren’t plants, but weaponry that the Eaufasse had created. They looked like undergrowth, but they weren’t. They operated as protective shields throughout Eaufasse territory.
Somehow Thirds had taught himself to override them.
Thirds would not tell her what happened in the dome. He wouldn’t talk to her at all. The only way he would speak to her was if she allowed him to return, the triumphant warrior, to his home.
So they had a stalemate.
Hours after the battle outside the outpost, if anyone could call that a battle, Washington called her into one of the conference rooms. There, on the table, he had visuals of what was happening on the moon below.
The dome glowed from within.
“What is that?” she asked him.
“Laser rifle fire,” he said. “I think they’re killing each other.”
She wanted to order him to go in, but both of them knew they couldn’t. They had no idea how many people were there, or what kind of weapons they had.
With the help of Okani, she contacted the Eaufasse ambassador.
“They’re killing each other inside the dome,” she said. “Can you stop them?”
“They are yours,” the ambassador said. “We can do nothing.”
As they spoke, the dome’s glow increased.
“We have to do something,” she said.
“You must,” the ambassador said. “We leave it to you.”
Then it severed the connection.
She watched as the glowing dome grew brighter. “That’s a fire,” she said to Washington.
“Or worse,” he said.
They’d seen images of this before. Domes were vulnerable to internal attack.
The dome had turned bright red.
Washington looked away. He knew, as she did, what was happening inside. The people in there were actually cooking. Burning up. Disintegrating.
She didn’t have the equipment to stop this.
She couldn’t turn away. She watched as the dome grew brighter and brighter, until it blew.
She couldn’t hear it, but she knew on Epriccom, it must have sounded like a million bombs went off. The ground would shake; there would be other damage throughout the various settlements.
If the Eaufasse blamed her, she would use that contact she made with the ambassador as proof that she had done all she could.
“Why would they do that?” Washington asked.
The air was black with smoke. Bits of the dome flew like shards into the trees. She shut off the hologram. She couldn’t look any more.
“They knew we were here,” she said.
“So?” he asked. “We’d been here for days. Why now?”
She stared at the empty tabletop. Then shook her head. “The experiment failed. They lost all sixteen boys.”
“I still don’t understand.”
She raised her gaze to his. “Success or failure,” she said, “what do you do at the end of an experiment?”
“I’m not a scientist,” he snapped.
“You disassemble it. You take it apart. You make your notes and you start over.”
