The Queen's Spawn (The Wrecking Squad Book 4), page 38
It didn’t mean Arin wouldn’t get on his nerves, however. “Stow it, Senior Technician, before I bust your arse down to sub-engineer and you’re back cleaning up after my favourite warbot.”
Arin blanched, though the ensuing eye-roll nearly had her snorting. He was here when Savvo was not, despite Hendricks being ill. She could forgive just about anything for that.
The Navy captain harrumphed for what must have been the thousandth time since the countess had ordered him to take Rebekah wherever she needed to go. “I am well versed in diplomacy,” he replied, nose ever-so slightly in the air. “And the Senti are just that, named because they are sentient. All such animals understand authority when they see it.”
Arin raised his eyebrows, adding the slightest shake to his head then feigned adjusting his belt that kept him anchored to the deck of the Senti ship. At least the sight of the behemoth had instilled a little humility in the frigate captain, further reinforced when the ship swallowed them whole and spat them out in a cavernous docking bay. At Rebekah’s request, the hose down had been a little more dignified than last time, thanks to whoever answered their call forgoing the equivalent of a Senti eye-roll before agreeing to the request.
The door slid open, the vibrant materials that occupied the nest queen’s control room swaying in the internal breeze. Rebekah could catch the occasional sight of the queen, but waited on the noble-officers to assimilate what they were seeing. The sheer size, the different physiology, but above all else, the presence of the Senti queen. It didn’t take long for them to look her way, then back to the dais that now appeared as the shimmering materials parted.
Yes. Now you see.
To give the noble bastard his due, Fortan managed a step forwards when a Senti officer gestured, before standing ramrod straight and delivering a millimetre perfect Navy salute. He also didn’t speak. It was going well. Commodore Srenik matched him, a little more relaxed in his posture but no less formal.
The nest queen quivered, her tentacles dancing over the holo light controls with which she oversaw everything aboard the ship. She did not acknowledge the Navy men at first, a swipe here and there, before the blue light dissipated and her full regard fell onto them. Piercing blue eyes settled on the nobles, assessed them and in an instant, moved onto Rebekah. As before, there was more in the queen’s gaze than any Senti she had encountered, except, according to Arin and ZZ3, the moment when Kefi’s eyes had transformed upon the Segfi. The moment the Senti had sacrificed herself in an act Rebekah prayed hadn’t been in vain.
A tentacle stretched out, metal shod, grasping a hapless worker Senti, its chin tentacle writhing briefly before settling down as she placed them at the foot of the dais. Rebekah side-eyed the officer-nobles, a grin on her face she couldn’t hide.
“Queen of the Sunstar,” started the worker Senti, the voice grating, mechanical. She had expected Kefi, and got something more akin to Pshwa, the dream-pedlar. Rebekah sensed the regard, but it wasn’t invasive. Not yet. “You return. We will converse. Commodore Srenik.” He didn’t wither, but she could see the weight fall upon his shoulders as the words filled with her regard.
Welcome to the future.
The queen continued via the worker she clasped. “Commodore, I recognise the role bestowed on you by your Emperor and the Countess Segfi.” Rebekah held her breath as the alien queen paused, bracing. A human knew compromise, accepting the lesser evil of others when faced with a greater threat. “I wish not to deal with murderers and their sycophants. Those who hide their intent with words, while their actions bear no relation.”
There goes that theory.
“However.” The queen opened two of her lower tentacles wide, the squelch of liquid resonating through the chamber as the rubbery flesh tore away from each other. In their apex sat a slime-covered cocoon. The queen’s spawn, though larger than when Rebekah had last seen it. A lump formed in her throat. Their efforts had not been a failure. The risks they’d taken, Kefi’s death, had meant something at least. “Khan of the Sunstar and her crew, including the honoured one they named Kefi, have recovered my sister’s spawn. She has been preserved, her memories retained for the future of the Great Nest. For this act, I will put aside the demands of my nest sisters for vengeance. I wish, Khan, to see the sacrifice made.” Her other shoulder tentacle wriggled, and a symbiote emerged from behind her head, pulling itself along and towards Rebekah. Despite herself, Rebekah thought she recognised it. The sequence of wave patterns, the twist of its tentacles. Kefi had last bore the symbiote. Its touch washed over her, and the full power of the queen entered her mind, seeking memories.
With practised ease she marked the events from when they left her ship to the moment of Kefi’s death, recounting what ZZ3 and Arin had witnessed. The queen’s touch was almost reverent, gentle, and pained by the state of Hendricks, the acts and choices forced upon the girls. At the end, she paused as the Sunstar entered void-space, her regard upon the light mirage.
The spawn. Of course. When the symbiotes were absent from the dying orb, it was because they had jumped. Gone without a ship into void-space … Fuck. And the Butcher witnessed the rescue.
The nest queen withdrew, her presence lifting, only for a tentacle to grace Rebekah’s neck, tickling the back of her head.
“I trust this one, Commodore Srenik. This human ship queen keeps her word, delivers on her promises. I owe her for my sister’s future existence and the retention of her memories for the good of the Great Nest.”
Is that what the orb’s sacrifice had been for? An entire ‘nest’ of Senti preferring to die rather than lose a queen’s knowledge, her memories? Not to save the queen’s current life, but what she adds, her consciousness. Like Kefi. Able to come back.
The enormity struck Rebekah. How long had the Senti nest queens been retaining their collective selves? And what would it mean to lose one?
“And for that,” continued the nest queen, “I have patience and time.”
Rebekah peered over to the noble-officer, waiting to see how he would cope with a lowlife scumbag being honoured above him. Perhaps it was the sheer presence of the Senti queen, or the disdain with which she had dismissed him. There was a light there. Common sense. A single nod. No words, no verbal acknowledgement. That would be too far. But Commodore Srenik had brought a shovel, and was prepared to let Rebekah do the work. Shape the future. Rebekah had a distinct feeling she would be working closely with the Commodore. She eyed Fortan, nose in the air, disdain on his lips.
Could be worse.
Rebekah faced the queen’s regard, meeting her eyes. “I believe you know what we need. What would help us defend against the Butcher. Kefi helped devise a Senti-coded system blocker, and we need more.”
Chapter 55
On approach to the Unpronounceable
Rohan powered down the shuttle, reaching across to take Treni’s hand in his. No words passed, they didn’t have to. Her cheeks glowed; the eyes filled with life. It had been an accident, not planned, but the news of her pregnancy, early days as it was, brought a light into his life he’d thought lost since news of the transport orb and later Kefi had filtered through.
Some joy.
Now he had to find a way to tell Scarva that his time was up. The debt repaid, and an opportunity aboard Benetai in the offing the next time the Senti dream-pedlar headed that way. Hannos wouldn’t renege. In the weeks he’d spent in the ex-Skyrider’s company he’d learned quickly that she was blunt and loyal. Rare commodities. He shared the latter.
“I’ll go,” he said, squeezing Treni’s hand. “Tell Scarva now, rather than let it build. Otherwise, the bastard will find a pile of underhanded crap for us to do.”
“You don’t bend, hear me.” Treni slipped her hand out of his, slapping him on the arm. “No letting that memory-sucker screw you over.” She placed her finger against his temple. “Hear me, shit-for-brains. We want out.”
Rohan grinned, unclipping. “What did I ever see in you?”
“A feisty bitch with a big gun, a fast draw and who takes no shit. That, and a loving disposition you appreciate.” A kiss on his cheek and she stomped off down the short corridor and on into the cargo bay. “I’ll inform our passenger.”
Rohan sighed, and called for the polythene tunnel, arriving at the shuttle’s airlock as it connected. A shuffle of tentacles behind announced the arrival of their silent passenger. The Senti had worn an encounter suit on boarding the shuttle and remained in the tiny captain’s cabin until now. It was nothing new, few Senti tolerated being aboard a human ship. The atmosphere was all wrong, the heights of the ceiling odd, the colours, as far as he knew, disagreeable.
It was, however, the squawk that set Rohan most on edge. “I never liked it aboard this, what does Treni call it? Shit-heap.”
He spun about, the Senti facing him, helmet off, shoulder tentacles waving, taking him utterly by surprise. The chin tentacle was missing, the skull slightly wider, the eyes a strange blue-black. But the voice …
He’d seen some seriously weird shit since first boarding Scarva’s ship. But this. “Kefi?” He reached out, almost touching her face, and the Senti shrank away.
“Even when I was your Kefi, no touching, yes? You humans have an odd skin, all scaly and hairy, and that smell.” The crash of seagulls assaulted Rohan’s ears. The Senti reached out a single tentacle, which landed on his clothed shoulder, the encounter suit’s tip splitting and taking hold.
“But …” was all he managed, Treni appearing the other side of the Senti, her eyes curious.
“Weird, isn’t it? Even for a Senti, being sublimated twice in such a short time leaves you out of … ahh.”
“Kilter,” said Treni from behind. “Out of sorts.”
“Yes. That.” The Senti turned about. “Good to see you Treni. Please understand, both of you. I am who you remember, but not who I remember.” The seagulls again. “I journeyed with Khan. I returned the spawn but do not have memories of such things. The Nest Queen has reconstituted me for a new role, but those memories were not recovered, my great heroics,” the Senti stood straight, tentacles wide, then sagged, “have been forgotten when I died. Apparently, it hurt. A lot. So maybe a good thing, eh?”
Rohan couldn’t help but smile. “Godsdamned right,” he said. “Been boring as hell talking to the rest of the Senti. Can’t you, you know, sublimate some humour into the ship.”
The Senti shook, the gulls silent, the pitch too high. “Humour amid the nest? I fear a queen would see that as inefficient. Dissent in the ranks. Come, I have a new role, and it is time to meet with Scarva.”
Rohan admittedly couldn’t understand a word of the conversation that flew between Scarva and Kefi. Initially it had been for his ears, then the Senti speech had littered the air, until this too died and he was left watching a staring contest. Kefi had mentioned the nest queens could use mind-speech, or maybe not just the queens, it had been a while back. However it was, there was still an argument going on. He had an idea of Senti body language, the way they held their tentacles, the heave and sag of their gasbags and the accompanying off-gassing that changed in aroma. Scarva had started belligerent, angry, but by the time the words had stopped, and silence ensued, it was clear the sick Senti had accepted whatever fate had been decreed. The off-gas hinted he was far from happy, but the mood shifted, and eventually Kefi faced Rohan while Scarva sulked as if he’d missed out on a thousand juicy war memories.
“We are done. I would ask that you transport Scarva back to the Nest Queen’s ship,” said the Senti, the steady, flat voice edged with a modicum of sadness or regret.
Rohan guessed at what was going to happen and turned away from Scarva as he spoke. “Sublimation?”
Kefi paused, then seemed to come to a decision. “Yes. He dies. As you know, his body nears the end of its cycle. But his memories remain valuable, as all are from those who travel the human pathways.” Kefi’s tentacles shook then fell in at its side. “Rohan, war is coming. Between human and machine. We fear the Senti cannot stand apart from it, that we will be sucked in. For that we must prepare. Scarva’s knowledge is essential and will help us rebuild the transport orb in a new form, as will be this ship and … and its crew. You and Treni have a role to play.”
“Kefi …” he started to say, only for the Senti’s eyes to turn fully blue as they fell upon him.
“This Butcher the humans have created. It knows no bounds, has no regard for any life, be it Senti or human. Almaar is not safe, nor Bustan if he succeeds in discovering our ways. Benetai? Windward? He will not stop.” Kefi’s tentacle tapped towards Rohan’s chest. “A father needs a place to live, and from what I have seen, this Butcher only seeks death.”
“I am only one man…”
“One Almaarian who now has more than one reason to parley with an old enemy. Treni is from Bustan, eh?”
Rohan took a step back, the realisation at what Kefi, this new Kefi with insights into what was coming, was hinting at striking home. “You want me to … to go to Bustan? They’ll kill us on sight, Treni will be wanted just as much as an ex-Marine like me.”
Kefi’s regard fell on him, the eyes, piercing blue and no longer the blank, soulless black, drinking him in. “Not straight away, but yes, soon. As a go-between perhaps, with a Nest Queen at your back and perhaps a Kefi at your side.”
Chapter 56
ANS Retana
Arin fingered the slate’s screen, running his fingertips over Hendricks’ face, caught between love and annoyance. She was in her old flight suit. Behind her, dock workers and tech crews milled about the Sunstar’s hull like ants over a pile of sugar.
“You should be resting,” he said, unable to slide any frustration into his words. He loved this woman for her pig-headed stubbornness, ‘ornery attitude and damn-right loyalty to her ship and crew just as much as for the tender moments.
“Yeah, right. And have them nurses fussing over me like I was some kind of corpse in waiting. Ain’t happening, Arin. The ship is in a mess; I have a line of green-as-hell would-be engineers and sub-engineers who don’t know their arse from their elbow all wanting to fix our beloved Sunstar their way. Theirs, not mine.” Hendricks slumped onto the metal container behind her.
“Our way. Don’t forget I’m Senior Tech now.” He tapped the label on his flight suit he’d 3D printed and sewn on before leaving Karal. “Says so right here.”
Hendricks shook her head, eyes to the sky. “Senior Tech this, Senior Tech that. Between you and the bloody Senior Rescue Warbot stomping about the ship, I’m beginning to believe I might just quit and farm potatoes or something. Or bake, anything but Danish with sprinkles. Do you know how much those girls are costing us in food? In sugar?”
Arin sniggered. He had to admit the number of bad habits he’d reinforced in the crew was on the rise. First a rapidly evolving warbot who was stretching Hendricks’ patience as it developed a sense of humour all of its own. And then the girls and their ever-growing sweet tooth that put him and Hendricks to shame, though he suspected much of that was sheer bribery. The girls had gone into themselves after they had killed the Skyriders, and Hendricks was little better ‒ watching the moment of forced suicide had brought a lot of memories back. Ones she couldn’t escape. Rebekah had left them together to work it through, giving them some space before she parachuted in and helped sort the mess out.
Brave.
Foolish.
And he loved her for it. Though he was never going to say that out loud. Nearly as much as he loved Hendricks who was clearly pushing her recovery. But nothing he would say could change that. Better to accept it and hold her close when it’s done.
“They okay?” he asked, fearing the answer. “Heki and Tremil?”
“Okay? No.” Hendricks wiped something from her eye with the back of her hand. “But I’ve gone with keeping them busy between sucking up Karal’s entire supply of sugar. Told them they were in charge of ensuring Rebekah’s little baby ship is in the best of health by the time she gets back. Kind of worked, too. Locked them in work mode, but I can’t get them to come up for air and talk.”
“And you?” Arin strained his neck, catching Rebekah’s gaze as she looked into his cabin. He indicated towards the slate, but she shook her head.
“Me?” said Hendricks, and her hand ran over her scalp, rubbing at the back of her neck. “Every joint aches, my muscles complain, and my teeth scream at me every night. And the bloody tablets …”
“Usual then,” said Rebekah as she entered the frigate’s cabin. She settled in beside Arin on the gel bed, hooking her arm in his. “And alive. Thanks to those very same girls.”
The ex-captain didn’t say anything in reply, just stared back, punctuated by the occasional blink and wipe of her eyes until she nodded. “It ain’t over though, is it?”
Arin felt Rebekah tremble, then she sat up straight. Her demeanour changing from friend to captain. “No,” she said. “We all know there’s worse to come, and we’re now front and centre. But the Senti … the Senti give me hope.”
Hendricks looked offscreen, a hand raised in greeting, and then she sidled over to make room “Good news,” she mouthed, tilting her head towards whoever approached.
