Darkness Rising Read online

  “The archbishop says they should not be harmed. I follow the orders of Archbishop Kenji Sato, and so I won’t harm them.” Ran’s eyes fell on Solomon again, and he frowned. “But I’m not sure what I believe.”

  It was only then that Alaric realized he’d unconsciously put a protective hand on Wild Solomon. Kneading its claws, the werfle gazed at Ran. It yawned and licked a glistening amber bead of venom from its fangs.

  8

  Time Gate 33

  “Carl,” Sixty said, static flaring along his spinal column. “What is happening on Luddeccea?”

  Sitting on Volka’s shoulders, the werfle’s ears went flat against his head.

  James answered, “An extremely virulent version of pneumonic plague has set upon New Prime.”

  “What does that have to do with Carl?” Volka whispered.

  Carl bowed his head. “They declared a bounty on werfles and cats.”

  “That’s terrible,” Volka gasped.

  The static under 6T9’s skin calmed. “I’m sorry,” he said, calling on the same programming he’d use for a human who’d suffered a loss, knowing both how inadequate the words were and how important they were to say.

  Carl leaped from Volka’s shoulder to the floor. He rose to his back four legs and looked between Volka and Sixty. “None of The One actually died. All my kin were able to slip through the wave to new hosts. But werfles are our favorite hosts and Luddeccea is our favorite world.”

  Sixty kneeled beside the small creature. Losing one’s world…that would be like losing memories of Eliza. “Carl,” he said. “If there aren’t any werfles left on Luddeccea…we’ll…we’ll ...” What would they do? 6T9’s Q-comm hummed. Hadn’t he made a decision to do what Eliza would do? His eyes slid to Volka. Eliza’s inclinations had served him well so far. Q-comm sparking, he said, “We’ll repopulate Luddeccea with your hosts. There are enough werfles chasing rats aboard ships and stations to be a healthy genetic pool. And enough wild places where their population could hide.” As soon as he said it, he felt dizzy. Was he really suggesting going back to Luddeccean space? If he went back, Volka would go back, and she could die.

  Sitting on her heels beside Sixty, Volka declared, “I’ll help too!” Just as he’d suspected.

  Carl looked between them, ears still flat. “You haven’t been listening to what James has been saying.”

  Sixty’s brow furrowed. “Of course we have.”

  Carl’s tiny chest expanded and fell with a barely audible sigh. “You haven’t been understanding, then.”

  “The werfles are fine,” James rumbled, standing above them. “It’s the humans who aren’t doing well.”

  “They attacked,” Carl said. “We retaliated.”

  “How?” Volka said.

  “With the plague,” said James.

  Gasping, Volka bolted upright. 6T9 remained frozen beside Carl, unable to believe what his Q-comm was telling him.

  “They have since backed down,” Carl said. “There is an uneasy armistice.”

  “You can create plagues?” Sixty asked, bewildered.

  Carl’s eyes narrowed. “We can manipulate the waves that make up all matter in the universe. Of course we can mutate a bacterium and make it more deadly.”

  “It wiped out over half of New Prime if our spies are correct,” said James.

  Volka staggered back. “Carl…that is…that is…You didn’t need to do that. You just said that none of your kind died! You could have reasoned…or…or…”

  Carl drew himself up to his hindmost paw pairs. “Or what? Turned the other cheek? Volka, wisdom isn’t in passivity or force. Wisdom is in knowing the time for each. In the face of genocide of my host species, I would choose force again.”

  Still sitting on his heels, Q-comm blazing white, Sixty tried to grasp it all. He could not kill humans, or any self-aware life form. He didn’t want to kill either, even creatures that weren’t self-aware. For a millisecond, an image of Captain McNamara of the Copperhead flickered in his circuits, and his annoying head tic returned. He shook himself. “Half of Prime…That’s more than a million humans, Carl.”

  Carl met Sixty’s eyes. “Overwhelming force is sometimes kinder, Sixty. The dramatic outcome helped convince Archbishop Kenji Sato to put an end to the culling of my host’s kind. Had he waited, I, and like-minded members of The One, wouldn’t have been able to persuade the others to end the plague. All humans on Luddeccea would have been wiped out.”

  “Kenji would never give in to an alien species,” James rumbled.

  Remembering his recent encounter with Kenji, Sixty said to James, “Kenji didn’t turn me in, and he knew who—what—I am.” Kenji knew Sixty wasn’t just an android, he was a sex ‘bot. Sex was for procreation only in Luddeccean orthodoxy. To Kenji, Sixty should have been the devil squared.

  Scowling, James shook his head. “Never. He’s—”

  James’s eyes slid over Volka and his own entourage, and 6T9 mentally finished the sentence. Human. Human programming was more difficult to change. Still, Eliza had been a fundamentalist until several of her children had died from a disease that wouldn’t have been deadly with Republic treatments. Dramatic circumstances, Eliza had told him, either solidified beliefs or convinced one to change them.

  Swiveling his upper body to face James, Carl asked, “So, taking you to System 33 will help ease Republic fears that The One will attack here?”

  “It might,” James replied.

  “I’d have to consult with Sundancer first,” Carl replied. “And I’d like 6T9 and Volka to be allowed to go back to the asteroid.”

  That sounded agreeable to 6T9, but Volka stepped forward. “If I go back to the asteroid, and something happens to you, Carl, no one else will be able to communicate with Sundancer…well…not as well.”

  Carl swiveled back to her. “Pet, you don’t—”

  Putting her hands on her hips, Volka declared, “I’m not your pet, and I’m not doing it for you.” She waved a hand at James’s entourage. “I don’t want these people stranded somewhere because you’re injured.”

  “I’ll go too,” Sixty found himself saying. Although he wanted to go to System 33 even less than he wanted to go to Luddeccea. In their brief conversation, Kenji had told Sixty that he had Noa’s left flank. Noa’s left flank, if she were standing on Earth’s North Pole, facing Luddeccea, was System 33. He could only hypothesize that something…undesirable…had occurred there, and it had caught the attention of Luddeccean intelligence.

  Volka muttered, “And if Sundancer has one of her nightmares, and you were hurt, I’d need to be there to snap her out of it.”

  Sixty felt static along every inch of his synth skin at the mention of Sundancer’s nightmares. Something that was undesirable to the Republic and Luddeccea had to be terrifying…would it be as terrifying as the source of Sundancer’s dreams? He swallowed. “I suppose there is some reason you can’t utilize Time Gate 33?”

  “I’ll let her tell you that story herself,” James said. He looked over Sixty’s shoulder and nodded. The glass airlock doors slid open, and a woman entered. She was dressed casually in “jeans,” the traditional trousers of the old United States that were currently experiencing a revival, and a fitted sweater that highlighted a form that was at once voluptuous and athletic. Her skin was medium-dark, her hair was long and black, and her eyes were a startlingly light hazel. 6T9 wasn’t programmed to respond to “beauty”—all humans were attractive to him, but with his Q-comm he could understand intellectually that she was objectively beautiful. Her face was very symmetrical, her skin clear, and her features proportional. All of that might be plastic surgery; however, she didn’t sport any other plastic surgery affectations—she had no fairy wings, elf or animal ears, or a tail. Nor did she have the Lizard Look, or Venus de Willendorf’s figure.

  Taking a sip of her coffee, the woman walked toward them. “It’s very sweet,” she said, as though to herself. And then she looked up at 6T9 and said, “You’re Android Genera
l 1!” He blinked, and she smiled wide. “All the androids are talking about it! What you did was very brave—”

  The compliment hit 6T9 like a volt of electricity, but then she continued, “—and how you rescued Sundancer, the alien, and the Luddeccean girl.”

  Emotional responses kicking in, the capillaries in 6T9’s synth skin dilated in his cheeks. “I didn’t so much rescue them as—”

  The woman’s eyes went to Volka. “And there’s Volka, the Luddeccean.” The woman tilted her head, sending long black hair cascading down one shoulder. “You don’t have ethernet.” Her eyes dropped to Volka’s wrist. “Except there. How interesting.” Her words contrasted with her deepening frown, but then she turned to Carl. “And you are the member of The One, Carl Sagan. You’re cute…aren’t you?” The last was said with a great deal of uncertainty. Looking to James, she said, “His small stature, the relative largeness of his eyes compared to his head, and overall neotenous appearance…those are what ‘cute’ is, correct?”

  Volka scowled at Carl, and James frowned, as did every human in his escort.

  Carl raised several paws to his chest. “Indeed, I am objectively adorable.”

  “Adorable is as adorable does,” Volka muttered, but the new woman nodded earnestly at Carl and offered her coffee cup to him. “Is this sweet?” she asked. “It has two sugars and one cream, and I think it is very sweet, but I have so little to go on.”

  Carl’s upper half pulled back from the cup. “I can’t drink that drek.”

  “Oh, right, it’s poison to you,” she exclaimed. “Biological organisms are so varied and complex!”

  6T9 blinked, his Q-comm humming. Her commentary identified her as an android, one that probably had less real-world experience than the BOY4 model he just rescued. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m not familiar with your model number. Is there a name you prefer to go by?” He cast a dirty look at James for not giving him an introduction.

  Her eyes went wide. “Oh, no. I don’t have a model number.”

  “What gate made you?” 6T9 asked. He’d heard there were a few custom models made.

  “I made myself!” she said brightly.

  6T9 took a step back. “You’re an augment?” She must have suffered severe brain trauma.

  The new woman smiled timidly. “No, I am an android. I made myself. I am Time Gate 33.”

  “What does that mean?” Volka asked.

  “My mind is literally Time Gate 33. Like Android General 1—” Time Gate 33 looked at 6T9 and nodded in a way that was unfamiliar to 6T9. His Q-comm sparked. Respectful, the nod was respectful. His cheek capillaries dilated again, and one of the Fleet personnel coughed. Time Gate 33 continued, “I have a Q-comm chip. However, Android General 1’s server is either a partitioned part of a larger machine, or a server stack in an unused corner of Time Gate 1. The General has many gifts—”

  There was another cough from the Fleet personnel.

  “However, he doesn’t have access to the systems aboard Time Gate 1. He can’t lower the lights on the promenade, tell you the air pressure in the airlocks, or which support androids are scheduled for maintenance. My Q-comm is connected to all of Time Gate 33’s functioning systems and I am able to access them…” She frowned. “…even if at the moment I can’t control them.”

  Sixty rolled back on his feet. She would have almost limitless computing power even if she didn’t command the station’s systems.

  Time Gate 33 continued, “I had a Q-comm chip aboard Time Gate 1 so that my crew could always be in contact with the rest of the galaxy.”

  6T9 nodded. It was typical for ships on long-range journeys to have a Q-comm connection with one of the gates so they were always in communication with the Republic.

  Touching her chest, she added, “I decided to put that chip in this body so that I could always share with these men which of my systems are currently operational,” she waved a hand at the Galactic Fleet personnel and James, “and so I could physically assist them with the rescue mission.”

  It made perfect sense. If she had left her second chip aboard Gate 1, the team could have communicated with her by relaying messages through James since his Q-comm, like 6T9’s, was connected to servers there. But sometimes Gate 1 wasn’t in the mood to relay messages, and sometimes even a millisecond delay could result in life or death for human companions. Also, her android form would doubtlessly be strong, fast, durable, stunner proof, and possibly capable of operating in a vacuum. The choice of an aesthetically pleasing female could be soothing to men and women in stressful situations. It was thoughtful of the gate to choose it.

  “Rescue mission?” Volka asked.

  “I…my time gate form was sabotaged,” said Time Gate 33. She touched her head. “The partner for this Q-comm chip aboard my gate form went offline for several hours. During that time, twenty-seven members of my crew were lost, and the remaining three are in terrible danger.” Her lip trembled, like she might cry. Touching her cheeks, she murmured, “When I think of them, my facial muscles hurt, and my eyes get wet.”

  6T9’s lips parted. She cared about humans. Not all AI did.

  “Who sabotaged you?” asked Volka, ears coming forward.

  Time Gate 33’s gaze became distant. “Not who. What.”

  Looking over 6T9’s shoulder, James said, “May we take this elsewhere? The walls have ears…and eyes.”

  6T9 followed his gaze to the glass doors of the berth’s entrance. The presence of Fleet in envirosuits was drawing attention. A little robot, no higher than his knee, with a singular, mounted, blinking camera eye was hovering just past the glass, and a human he recognized from the press pool.

  “Volka, will Sundancer allow them aboard?” Sixty asked.

  Volka’s yellow eyes slid closed. A moment later, she opened them. “Let’s go.”

  9

  Trinity

  Volka walked up the airtight plastitubing that led to Sundancer. It was set at a forty-five-degree angle and had rings of some sort of polymer at three hands-breadth intervals along its length. The rings were keeping the tube from collapsing, but Sixty had explained that they’d cinch tight when Sundancer pulled from the gate, and the whole tube would withdraw. 6T9’s precious package was tucked under one arm, the yellow sulfur clouds of Copernicus City stretching beneath her. It would be nice to paint them, but Sixty, the woman or android who said she was Time Gate 33, a group of Galactic Republic Fleet Marines, and James—who she still wasn’t sure was machine or man but was as chilly and frightening as she’d grown up believing machines to be—were at her heels.

  Using the plastitubing rings for grips, Carl was crawling on the wall next to her. Volka was trying to ignore him.

  Over half of the city of New Prime was dead. Carl had said that Alaric and Mr. Darmadi were fine, but that didn’t make her feel better. She thought of the members of her church, of the rat sellers at the weere market, and the kindly human man at the art supply store who sold Mr. Darmadi paints and gave Volka odd-sized pieces of canvas, brushes, and paint tubes that had been damaged in shipping. Her fingers curled into fists, and she blurted, “You can’t tell me that innocents haven’t been killed.”

  “No, I can’t, Volka,” Carl agreed. He sighed. “I can say the over 3 million cats and werfles that were euthanized, burned alive, and drowned were innocent. As were the humans who were murdered and beaten for not handing over the creatures.”

  Volka’s heart stopped, her stomach felt like lead.

  “It ended quickly. If it had dragged on, and more of our hosts had been killed, The One would have eradicated all the humans on Luddeccea and possibly in the entire system.”

  Volka swallowed. “You would do that?”

  “I don’t want to do that,” Carl said. “We didn’t extract an eye-for-an-eye Volka. As soon as our hosts were safe, we neutralized the bacteria and ended the plague.”

  They reached the end of the tube, and Volka touched Sundancer’s pearlescent hull. She simultaneously felt like crying and
screaming and knew the ship must know it but couldn’t hide her conflict and despair—at The One and her own people. The ship warmed beneath her fingers, and the smooth surface retracted like an iris opening. Behind her, members of Fleet let out soft sounds of surprise. Volka climbed the last of the steep grade into the ship and found Sundancer’s interior had become dark blue-gray, like a Luddeccean sky in a storm. Sundancer’s surfaces inside and out were usually pearlescent.

  The ship wasn’t like anything in any of Volka’s sci-fi books. There was no furniture, no computer monitors, dials or buttons, not even any light bulbs. The ship had a large room they thought of as “the bridge,” and a hallway with a few tiny rooms in the back, with iris doors like the one they just entered, and all similarly empty. There were no “facilities” as such, but Sixty had suggested they put a standalone toilet and charging station in the back. They hadn’t gotten around to it though because trips aboard Sundancer were practically instantaneous. There were no windows, but sometimes Sundancer let them see through her walls.

  The Fleet team filed in behind Volka, and the camouflage that had been light gray in the terminal seemed to absorb the blue-gray color within the ship. Volka should probably be more interested in Time Gate 33—but her eyes kept returning to the female soldier. Volka had met Admiral Noa Sato, James’s wife, but that had been different. Noa had worn dress grays or formal attire every time Volka had seen her, and she hadn’t been toting a phaser rifle like this woman. Women serving in combat was barbaric to every Luddeccean she knew, except maybe Alaric. But even he said they’d be too distracting and that their lack of upper body strength would put them at a disadvantage. Volka remembered the captain of the Copperhead in her suit—maybe with technology, strength wouldn’t be an issue? She surreptitiously studied the woman to see if she was augmented. She was tall, but most people in the Republic were tall to Volka. The female soldier was slenderer than the males. She had short blonde hair, dark skin, and almond-shaped blue eyes that were almost violet. She was striking, but her comrades didn’t seem distracted by her at the moment. They were forming lines along the walls, all of them facing Volka.