Behold: Humanity!: Dead Blood, page 32
Vakwerta tried to draw back but found the back of the chair in her way. One of her assistants had fainted and the other one fled through the door behind her, abandoning the Assistant to the Planetary Director to her fate at the hands of one of the Mad Lemurs of Terra.
Nakteti waited until Lady Carnight was halfway down the length of the table.
"I say thee enough," Nakteti said. "Stay thy hand and thine rage."
Lady Carnight stopped, the sword humming, lightning moving up and down the ornate blade, the nimbus flowing off of it like mist.
There was no lightning in Lady Carnight's hair, or skittering across her dark brown skin.
"Let's go," Nakteti said. She held out one gripping hand. "I tire of this place and wish to smell the wind and the rain and feel the sun upon my fur."
Lady Carnight sheathed the blade and walked back to Nakteti, taking her small hand in her larger one.
"Tell the Director she can come find me, or..." she let it draw out. "She can go fuck herself."
Vakwerta sat in the puddle of urine in her chair and stared at the broken table, unable to answer.
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TNVARU GRIPPING HANDS
Oops.
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TREANA’AD HIVE WORLDS
Don't say that. You know I'm a nervous person.
Define... oops.
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TNVARU GRIPPING HANDS
Nakteti arrived at New Tnvaru and had a meeting with the Assistant Planetary Director. Someone in station security leaked the footage of the confrontation.
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TREANA’AD HIVE WORLDS
Ooh, any good?
>gets popcorn
Tell me it's good.
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TNVARU GRIPPING HANDS
It's disastrous. The Planetary Director sent her assistant to make inquiries about why and how Nakteti lost most of her crew, how the colony was lost. It sounds like the Planetary Director was going to twist everything to make it seem like the loss of the colony and Tnvaru Prime was somehow Captain Nakteti's fault.
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MANTID FREE WORLDS
What? That's ridiculous. The PAWM was already sterilizing your colony when Nakteti showed up.
How is it her fault?
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RIGELLIAN SAURIAN COMPACT
Politics. That's how.
We should hang all lawyers, engineers, and politicians.
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TREANA’AD HIVE WORLDS
Wow, someone feels muscular today.
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TELKAN FORGE WORLDS
The big insect said to the muscle bound Rigellian power lifter during the body builder competition.
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ALL>Laugh
TREANA’AD HIVE WORLDS
Good one, kid.
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TNVARU GRIPPING HANDS
Oh, it gets better.
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TREANA’AD HIVE WORLDS
>crams popcorn into his mouth
Oh oh oh! Tell us!
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AKLTAK SOARING WORLDS
How does indicting Nakteti for all of this get worse?
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TNVARU GRIPPING HANDS
She had one of her allies with her. A Lady Carnight, the niece of Nakteti's Space Force assigned bodyguard, had gone with her.
She's from one of those magical primitivism planets.
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LEEBAW CONTEMPLATION POOL
Didn't those fare pretty well due to the lack of actual cybernetics and low populations?
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BIOLOGICAL ARTIFICIAL SENTIENCE SYSTEMS
Actually, yeah, they really did.
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TNVARU GRIPPING HANDS
Apparently Captain Nakteti was having Lady Carnight speak for her, and the insults by the Assistant Planetary Director got too much and she chopped the table in half with a sword.
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ALL>AHAHAHAHAHAHA!
TNVARU GRIPPING HANDS
Then they just left. The Minister of Planetary Defense told the Planetary Director that he didn't have enough soldiers to send against a half hundred insane humans with swords and that he didn't think she could get away with an orbital strike that might not even kill the humans.
So we've got a power struggle brewing.
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TREANA’AD HIVE WORLDS
You have to show the video. That sounds too amazing.
>holds up the popcorn
Anyone?
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TNVARU GRIPPING HANDS
I don't see why you aren't all laughing at me.
This is just embarrassing.
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PUBVIAN DOMINION
What, you think we're surprised that a Terran chopped up a table with a sword after being insulted?
You've met Terrans, right?
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MANTID FREE WORLDS
Touché.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The ice cream parlor was busy, all of the booths and the lounging seats at the bar taken up. Matrons chatted, many with hatchlings sitting on their abdomens eating out of a hatchling bowl, workers talked with one another about their jobs, families, or just the news. There was a handful of warrior caste, some with prosthetics or patched chitin, but others wondering what was going to happen.
At one booth sat a large Treana'ad warrior, with excellent coloring and size, staring at a hologram projector that was on privacy mode. They had a bowl of light ice cream and had let it mostly melt, just stirring the ice cream with one bladearm tip as they stared at the holograms.
T'Nok watched the holorecording of his brother and he playing 'catch the flying disc' on a large grassy field. It had taken him weeks to learn how to properly throw it, how to do it almost on instinct instead of thinking about it for a half second or so.
On the hologram one of his frat brothers jumped into the air, doing a somersault, catching the plas disc behind their back, landing and spinning in place, sending the flying disc arcing through the air.
T'Nok clicked to the next one.
T'Nok himself was featured, wearing a cheap plas hat and a white sheet draped across his thorax, in a line with a bunch of other 'plebs', marching in a circle and reciting the school song, the fraternity motto, the school motto, and even "God Save Us From the Queen" as the upper classmen sprayed them with cold water from a hose or cold beer from a can or bottle.
He reached out with the bladearm that wasn't stirring ice cream, touching each person and saying their name quietly. Not all of them had made it into the prestigious fraternity, and T'Nok had been the only non-Terran to make it in over three hundred years, but he had made it.
He clicked to the next one. It was a holostill.
There he was learning to play 'snooker' and leaning over the table. He had two cigarettes in his mouth, a beer in one hand as he held the cue in the other and balanced it on one bladearm. He was wearing a vest with the colors of the fraternity and a patch signifying he was a third year.
T'Nok sighed, feeling melancholy, and clicked to the next one.
There he was at a 'bonfire of vanity', dressed as an ancient King, holding a torch in each hand, moving with his brothers in a circle around the fire as their sister sorority shuffled in a counter-moving circle, all dressed in heavy hooded robes and wearing masks of the feared Fox Guy, who had almost killed off the Common House and enabled the Dread King James the Worst to release the dreaded Bloody Mary Queen of Scotch, who had drowned her enemies in barrels of hard liquor.
Fox Guy Day was always one of T'Nok's favorite memories.
"Brother T'Nok, why are you eating ice cream instead of going to class?" a familiar voice asked. The tone was so familiar, so right at the right time, that it connected with the pictures he had been watching and made him jump up out of his seat, bringing both bladearms to his antenna.
"Motoring, sir!" T'Nok barked out.
Then realized that those days were decades behind him with a rush of embarrassment that brought a flush of blood to his wings.
"T'Nok, old beany propeller," the Terran in front of him said.
T'Nok couldn't believe it. Samuel Janice Undaroo VII, his mentor and tutor in Bongistan Culture, was standing in front of him.
"Sam!" T'Nok said. He reached out and embraced the primate, pulling him close, crossing his bladearms behind the primate's back. He broke the embrace and stepped back.
Sam held out his hand and T'Nok went through the complicated handshake with his old mentor, finishing up with making an "L" shape with his thumb and fingers against his forehead and making a fist with the thumb poking out with the other hand, pulling the thumb away from his mandibles while blowing a raspberry.
"It's good to see you, T'Nok," Sam said. He waved at the bench seat. "Mind if I sit?"
"Not at all," T'Nok said.
Sam sat down and sighed in pleasure as the back lifted up and pressed against his back. He looked at the holoemitter. "Feeling nostalgic?"
T'Nok shook his head, grabbing his pack of cigarettes and shaking one loose. "Melancholy. I heard what happened in Terran space."
Sam nodded. "Yeah, it was a bad scene," he said.
"How are you alive, brother?" T'Nok asked, lighting a cigarette.
Sam reached out and picked up the pack, taking a cigarette and lighting it. "I got lucky."
T'Nok felt curiosity. "How so?"
Sam exhaled smoke slowly, unaware of the interest he was garnering from the surrounding Treana'ad, most of whom had never been this close to a human in real life before. The idea of a random human just wandering around Smokey Cone was a curiosity for sure.
It also explained the undercover police cruisers and the Hard Response Team van camouflaged as a library book-mobile lurking in the parking lot across the street. Sure, the human might be friendly, but who really knew with the Terrans?
"About eight years ago, an old archeological site was found," Sam said.
T'Nok nodded. "You sent me a message about it. A Pre-Glassing facility on a planet that had been flung free of its star, correct?"
Sam nodded. "Right. Now, it still had power, and since I'm a Pre-Glassing archeologist, when I was called in I realized the number one problem my fellow academics were having."
T'Nok cocked his head. "What trouble?"
"Killer robots, attack drones, homicidal satellites, moon based drone and mass driver defenses, booby traps, surface to orbital missiles, SUDS disruption devices, you know, the typical when dealing with Late Age of Paranoia stuff," Sam smiled.
"That would indeed be troublesome and interrupt any archeological research," T'Nok chuckled.
The waitress came up and Sam ordered a double-thick milkshake and a pack of cigarettes.
When he saw T'Nok's questioning look he laughed. "I picked up the habit on the facility. It could be nervous work and this body is really high strung."
"How so?" T'Nok asked.
"I'll explain. First, don't you want to know how I solved the problem?" Sam asked.
T'Nok nodded, taking a bite of his ice-cream and realizing with a wince that it had separated. He ordered another bowl of light ice cream.
"Well, I had myself reskinned into an Age of Paranoia body," Sam grinned. "Full archeo-DNA workup. No modifications from after the Glassing."
T'Nok nearly spit out his mouthful of ice cream. "So, you're Enraged?"
Sam laughed. "No. Although there's issues with it," he said. "Went in with no cyberware, no bioware, just straight non-genejacked pure strain old style human, no shake and bake, no geneslice, no nothing."
"Wow," T'Nok looked his frat brother up and down. "How did you get permission? I thought that kind of work was illegal on account of risk of Enragement."
Sam shrugged. "As a registered and published archeological field researcher, I can get waivers. I got one pretty quick when I mentioned I was doing a dig on a pre-Glassing site that was still live."
"What's it like?" T'Nok asked.
"Weird," Sam admitted. "I can't explain it. Mentally, it's like I'm slower and faster at the same time, my thoughts lose focus easier, and my primal urges are closer to the surface. Physically," he shook his head. "I don't have all the enhancements that are TDH standard, but... this is going to sound weird, but I emotionally feel superior, like the majority of TDH couldn't cut it, so they had to get genetic work to equal me."
T'Nok nodded. "Like being a warrior caste, it sounds like."
Sam laughed again. "Maybe. I've always been athletic," he said.
T'Nok nodded, remembering cheering for Sam at the end of the Dragon's Back marathon.
"So I kept this body in tip-top shape," he said. "I eat a lot more. Digestive system isn't as efficient."
T'Nok shook his head, marveling at human's ability to adapt to new bodies.
"How did you survive the Die Off?" T'Nok asked.
Sam sighed, his eyes shadowed for a moment. "They think because of this body," he said softly. "I was giving a lecture on the station orbiting the planet's moon when everyone just..." he choked for a second. "Everyone who was human just... died. Right there. Some just sighing and slumping down, some going into seizures."
"Digital Omnimessiah preserve us," T'Nok breathed.
"One went Enraged, but there was a Pubvian there, and you know Pubvians are always armed. Still, took eight shots to put them down," Sam looked down and slowly stirred his milkshake. "At first we thought it was another trick of the facility, which we still hadn't fully cracked, only gotten into the Low Security Areas. Then we heard it was all over the Confederacy, hell, even in the War Zone."
T'Nok nodded. "Yes."
Sam sighed. "Then the kids vanished, nobody knows where they went. Then the Digital Omnimessiah reappeared."
T'Nok shaved off a curl of ice cream and set it on top of his brother's shake.
"Thanks, old beany," Sam said. He used the straw to pick it up and ate it. After a moment he spoke again.
Both T'Nok and Sam were unaware that the entire ice cream parlor had gone completely silent.
"One of the researchers was from Smokey Cone, told me several times you had designed his mother's egg and larval chambers. I hitched a ride with him here, looked you up in the public directory on the transfer station, and the Public eVI was nice enough to let me know you were here," Sam said.
T'Nok nodded and leaned back slightly. "Do you have a place to stay, Sam?"
Sam shook his head. "You know archeologists, we live out of a vehicle or a sack, maybe a hotel room."
"My estate is open to you, brother," T'Nok said. He leaned forward. "I understand how terrible it must be for you. Have you had medical attention?"
Sam shook his head. "I just came straight here," he shook his head again. "I checked, T'Nok. You and I are all that is left," he looked at his shake again. "I can't go back to Terra. The three worlds I checked on the 'net are empty except for the dead," he looked back up. "I came here."
"You have not talked to a spirit doctor?" T'Nok asked.
Sam shook his head again. "No, not yet."
"I know some people. We'll get you in to a spirit doctor, get your mind and soul healed, brother," T'Nok said.
"I didn't know what else to do," Sam admitted.
"You did the right thing, brother," T'Nok said. He signaled the waitress for the check. "My home is yours, brother."
-----
TELKAN FORGE WORLDS
It just seems strange, you know?
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LEEBAW CONTEMPLATION POOL
Why?
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TELKAN FORGE WORLDS
One minute they're stomping a mudhole in everyone's ass with spiked boots, then they're gone.
I keep wondering if it has anything to do with the voices we keep hearing over the Command channels.
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LEEBAW CONTEMPLATION POOL
You know, you might be on to something there.
>Leebaw grabs a coil of rope and a helmet with a light on it
Grab your rock hammer and crampons, let's go look.
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TELKAN FORGE WORLDS
Cyb usually handles any deep stuff.
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LEEBAW CONTEMPLATION POOL
CYB! HEY! CYB!
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...
...
..
CYBERNETIC ORGANISM CONSENSUS
Yes?
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LEEBAW CONTEMPLATION POOL
You feel up to checking the deep lines and channels?
Me and Telkan are going to go spelunking in the dark.
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CYBERNETIC ORGANISM CONSENSUS
I cannot.
Here, take this.
CYB HAS INITIATED FILE TRANSFER>old-dark-codes.salt
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LEEBAW CONTEMPLATION POOL
Thanks.
Hey, take care of yourself, all right? You're not sounding good.
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TELKAN FORGE WORLDS
We'll be back.
Try not to do anything human like break any food processors or catch on fire while we're gone.
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CYB>Smiles
>LEEBAW HAS LEFT THE CHAT
>TELKAN HAS LEFT THE CHAT
>MANTID HAS JOINED THE CHAT
MANTID FREE WORLDS
How you feeling, Cyb?
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CYBERNETIC ORGANISM CONSENSUS
Tired. Thin. Like butter spread across too much toast.
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>TREA HAS JOINED THE CHAT
TREANA’AD HIVE WORLDS
Did someone say toast?
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CYB>Laughs
MANTID FREE WORLDS
Hey, have you seen Telkan? I wanted to ask him something.
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CYBERNETIC ORGANISM CONSENSUS
He and Leebaw are going to explore the deep channels, down in the old SolNet.
