by Deborah J. Ross, writing as Deborah Wheeler
Chapter 33
Silence woke him. Eril blinked and struggled
to focus on the nearest wall. It was about three feet from his nose and he
assumed he was seeing clearly, for it was just as blank and unbroken by window
or door seam as the other three. And he was still hanging in the restraint web,
alone in his tiny cell.
He tried to stretch and then wished he
hadn=t.
Even the slightest movement sent ripples of pain through his joints. He took a
deep breath to clear his mind. It was no good. The air was stuffy, almost
dense.
He could only guess how much of the day
had gone by while he=d
hung there, for the indirect lighting gave no sign of the sun=s
passage. There was no evidence of his hosts or the food and water they=d
previously provided. Or the execution squad he expected. Neither was there any
news of his companions or the progress of Raerquel=s
experiment on the far side of the ocean.
But news of war, that had surely come.
Wave after thunderous wave had shaken the prison block while he=d
hung there, helpless.
On the periphery of the spaceport, the
prison building would be well within the first strike target zone, but Eril
guessed the rumbling was caused by the blast of ships taking off under
emergency scramble conditions. If the field had been bombed directly, he would
not, in all likelihood, still be here to speculate about it.
Now, as he struggled awake from his
fitful dozing, he heard none of the previous bone-shaking racket, only
sepulchral silence.
They=ve
blown themselves up, damn them. We were too late. Or maybe Raerquel tried, and
they just wouldn=t
listen. Now there=s
no one left to come looking for us, even if it would only be for a short march
to the euthanasia chamber.
Eril jerked against the restraining web and
only succeeded in digging the stands deeper into his pressure-inflamed flesh.
He tried to distract himself with thoughts of the others, hanging in their own
isolated cells.
Some leader he=d
turned out to be, with all his dreams of alien alliances. Or how about that
nick-of-time escape plan? If only Kithri had laughed in his face, as he=d
so thoroughly deserved, when he first proposed running jaydium with her. If she
had, she=d
be safe in Port Ludlow now, sipping brew with the other miners. It was all his
fault she was here with him, waiting for certain death. No matter that she=d
come to trust him, to reach out to him, to look beyond the dust on her
fingers... He wished they=d
had a chance to make love, because he had no words for what he wanted to say to
her.
And Lennart would still be floating in
that interdimensional gap. Time would have no meaning for him. He=d
never know what happened to his age of peace or face the pirates.
Neither would
Brianna, who=d
go on dreaming of alien civilizations and never see one...
He was getting maudlin, thinking like
this! Wallowing in self-pity, paralyzing himself with guilt. To hell with it!
From behind the seamless door panel
came scuffles, so faint that Eril held his breath, listening. Over the sudden
pounding of his heart he heard them again. Hairline cracks appeared in the far
wall. The door jerked open, stuttered and came to a stop less than a quarter
open.
Outside air, laced with acrid dust,
swirled into the tiny cell. Eril coughed, his eyes watering.
"Who=s
there?"
"Eril-human, you are still
alive?"
Eril glimpsed a flash of silver hide
through the partial opening, then the curve of coppery eye disc scanning his
translator panel. A slender tentacle slipped through the opening.
"Who=s there? Come on, you damned slugs, you=ve
tortured me enough--don=t
keep me hanging here, tell me what=s
going on!"
"It is I, Raerquel--"
"Raerquel! What the hell are you
doing here?"
The scrabbling noises escalated into a
rhythmic thumping, a pale echo of the previous blasts. Raerquel answered
slowly, its normally resonant voice a tinny whistle, as if its vocal slits had
been damaged.
"I am here--" thud!
"--to rescue--" thud! thud! "--my mammalian
friends--" thud! crash! "That is, if I can be opening--" thud!
"--this untranslatable door!" thud-thud-thud!
The gastropoid paused, as if drawing
breath. "It appears to be stuck."
No shit.
"What=s
going on out there?"
"Skirmishing at outer planets has
been escalating." Raerquel sank into a mound outside the door. Its
tentacles drooped like wilted blossoms. "Several armed ships from Tomorrow
were not destroyed."
"They got through--"
"Yes, to Planet-of-Home. We do not
know if this was the intention of offspring-leaders, or only an accidental
opportunity. These missiles were unguided and fell at random targets--some in
the deep plains to the far south, some on polar regions."
"Did they--did they all hit
uninhabited areas?"
"No. Some fell directly on
Ocean-of-Light, destroying the Council chambers. Planet-of-Home has retaliated,
sending our entire armed fleet into space."
"And the noise I heard? The ships
taking off?"
"Those that were still
spaceworthy. When the strike command was given, the offspring planets sent
missiles armed with clean-fusion devices that they had based secretly in our
asteroid belt. These were aimed at our most vital defense areas."
All those ships... Eril
felt sick at heart.
"Is there any way of getting me
out of this thing? I=d
rather not die hung up like this."
The shadow outside heaved itself
upright. "This door is not responding to normal biochemical controls and I
am not able to pass through the available passageway."
"But I could slip through there if
I were free." He eyed the opening. "Could you reach through and
dissolve this thing off me?"
"Certainly. Your restraint web is
designed to control vertebrate specimens and should be responsive to my
manipulation."
Several slender appendages snaked
through the open door. They extended to their full length and stopped, waving
uncertainly as the eye discs moved back and forth. A lump of flesh slid along
the foremost tentacle, like a bolus of food slipping down an elastic tube. It
flattened out as it reached the tip, a wave that had dissipated its force. Eril
watched, half in horror and half in fascination, as another swelling travelled
the length of the appendage towards him.
"What--are you actually growing
that thing?"
"The process is akin to that of
protoplasmic streaming in protozoans. You are familiar with the concept?"
"No, but it doesn=t
matter. You=re
almost there. Now if you can only get this stuff off me--"
Raerquel=s appendage stopped elongating a hand=s
length from Eril=s
thigh. The waves of added flesh slowed, thickening the tentacle. Feathery
branches sprouted from its farthest tip, each delicate strand curling and
reaching until it touched the restraint web.
Eril felt a sudden increase in pressure
as Raerquel=s
appendage-tips slipped beneath the therine webbing. With an effort he
kept still. What was the gastropoid scientist doing? Was it going to rip
the stuff off him?
The restraint web continued to tighten,
further constricting his breathing and digging painfully into his skin.
"Raer--"
"Please be patient,
Eril-friend," the alien said in its deep, toneless voice. "Even as
water is expanding slightly as it is freezing into ice, this therine is
partaking of minor volumetric changes."
The web clenched down harder and little
black spots rose before Eril=s
eyes. His vision grayed around the edges. "I=m--having--trouble--breathing."
Suddenly the pressure dropped away. His
knees buckled under him and he fell to the floor.
"Eril-friend, are you
harmed?"
Eril pushed himself up on his hands,
his ribs heaving with deep gulps of air. "I need a moment to catch my
breath."
"My friend, can you do that as we
proceed? We have only a little time before the retaliation is arriving."
"Go? Where is there to go?"
Eril clambered upright and slipped sideways through the door opening. "I
just wanted to die on my own two feet."
"To the mountains, to continue our
struggle for peace. Yes, bombs are already falling, therefore we must be
utmostly exerting ourselves. There is no longer any time for other
concerns."
The corridor walls, once glassy smooth,
were crazed and splintered. Towards one end, a mound of silvery bodies lay in a
pool of colorless body fluids. One of them looked hauntingly like Araf=ex,
but its distinctive neck slits were partly covered by rolls of limp flesh and
he couldn=t
be sure.
Eril ran his hands over the ridges of
swollen flesh criss-crossing his arms. The web had saved his life by cushioning
the worst of the blast concussions.
"We must be rescuing your comrades
without delay!" said Raerquel, undulating in the opposite direction at top
speed. "Only human prisoners were retained during the crisis. All of our
own people under confinement were summoned into military service or released to
survive as best they can. Here is a cell with a living being inside!"
Raerquel came to an abrupt halt and ran
its lower appendages over the wall.
"How are you going to open that
thing? I thought the prison doors wouldn=t
answer to your signal."
"Prison structures are manipulable
like any other therine," Raerquel explained, continuing its
scanning motion. "From the exterior surface, since only the inside is >fixed=.
We encountered a problem--" the door slid smoothly aside, "--because
your door was mechanically stuck. Ah, it is the
societies-scientist!"
Brianna turned a pale, swollen-eyed
face towards them. She looked like a bedraggled butterfly caught in a spider=s
web. Raerquel dissolved the restraints and she staggered into Eril=s
arms.
"Time to get out of here,
Bri," he said, hoping that she=d
respond to the firmness in his voice. "This place is about to eat
dust."
She didn=t speak, yet Eril could see the fire in
her green eyes as she drew herself upright. He=d thought her a fragile butterfly, but
she was more like an ancient rapier, slender tempered steel. She followed
Raerquel out the door, unsteady for only the first steps.
They found Lennart in the next cell,
looking a little dazed. Raerquel disappeared down the hallway, where it began
hooting that it had found Kithri.
Kithri blinked and scrubbed her eyes
with the back of one hand as the gastropoid dissolved her restraint web. The
strands left flaming welts on her bare arms. Eril remembered how she=d
looked outside that rundown tavern in Port Ludlow, too proud to admit she=d
been crying. Suddenly he hoped, with all the hoping left in him, that by some
impossible chance they still had a chance to stop the war.
"You came back for us," she
said to Raerquel. Her voice was scratchy but wondering. "I thought your
peace movement was more important than anything. I thought we were nothing but
tools--something to throw away as soon as we were no use to you any more."
Raerquel brushed a feathery tentacle
against her bruised face. "We may not have shared Flesh-Before-Naming, but
we have shared other things...a field of flowers, sunlit waters...and so many
things I cannot yet be understanding. The fear, the rushing darkness, the
loneliness. How can you humans live, so separate, so alone?"
"If we don=t
get out of here now, said Brianna, "how we live will be an entirely
moot point." She stood in the corridor with Lennart, beckoning them to
hurry.
Sometimes,
Eril thought, we live by leaving before those we love can leave us.
Kithri stumbled as she crossed the
threshold. Eril caught her and wrapped an arm around her.
Sometimes we spend the rest of our
lives afraid it=ll
happen again. Sometimes we get a chance to change things.
oOo
The elegant spaceport towers lay in
ruins, and those ships that had not already taken off had been reduced to
splinters. The cream-colored pavement, designed to withstand the exhaust of the
massive freighters, was peppered with blast craters. A few gastropoids moved
slowly about the wreckage, pausing at the larger piles of debris. Above it all,
the sky that had once been as clear as Ocean-of-Light glowered a deep, murky
red.
"Atmosphere-pollution weapon to
blind our forces by distorting light patterns," Raerquel commented as it
led them in an eastward circuit.
"Ah!" Lennart said, as if he=d
been punched in the solar plexus.
At the edge of the parkland, they
discovered an abandoned transport platform. Raerquel slithered on board,
followed by the humans. The platform rose slowly, as if in some demented
mechanical way it mourned its fallen comrades. Raerquel kept it low, following the
contours of the ground.
The city was less of a shock after the
spaceport, which had sustained the worst of the attacks. Here and there
buildings still stood, some of them apparently intact. From the distance, they
could see a ripple of gray-toned bodies moving between the ravaged lacework
towers. They were all very quiet as they skirted the city and began to wind
through the hills.
Finally Kithri stirred. She=d
been sitting, gripping the edge of the platform with white-knuckled fingers.
"Are we going to ride this thing all the way across the ocean?"
Eril read her thought. They=d
have no protection at all against another round of bombing.
"For the next part of our
journey," Raerquel said, "we will be going underground, not over the
water."
"Underground?"
"Indeed. Swimming though waters of
light may be exquisite pleasure but hardly an efficient means of
transportation. Do you think because you mammalians can dart about on your
stilt-like appendages that we gastropoids have no need to get places quickly?"
o0o
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