 
## **Contents**

Traveler in the Dark

Copyright

Acknowledgements

Ex Situ Book 1

Traveler in the Dark

Deirdre Gould
Copyright

Traveler in the Dark

Copyright 2017 Deirdre Gould

All rights are reserved to the author. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Names, character, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover designed by The Cover Collection http://www.thecovercollection.com/
Acknowledgements

Special Thanks to:

Misti Paudel for her inexhaustible patience in answering medical questions

Kevin Malady for the same in science questions

Siobhan Malady for reading the terrible drafts every time

Rebecca Emery, Her dad Rick, and her cat, Wookie for letting me shamelessly abuse their names

Robert Frazier for coming up with Airlock Lovers for me

1

Issk'ath stood for a long time on the edge of the great nest. None of the nest's machines ran without the colony. The large tunnels slumped or dissolved in the rain with no one there to repack or smooth them. The beautiful, sculpted chambers of the queen lay clotted with mud, lost with the swarm. Issk'ath had remained for a long time. Many mating seasons. It believed it was just making certain, just standing guard so that nothing returned. So that nothing changed.

And nothing did. No new input except the predictable alteration of the stars and the creep of the returning vegetation. The lack of stimulation made the iteration worse. It was boredom that drove Issk'ath to examine what it had done.

The colony had been erratic, self-destructive, swarming. Even after several iterations, Issk'ath could see no fault with that conclusion. They had to be stopped. It had to save them from themselves. But the queen— the queen had given it the name as she died. It hadn't been a compliment.

"Issk'ath," she'd stuttered, her slim legs buzzing with pain as she rubbed the words out, "I call you for the nymph that burned the clutch." Her wings had opened, gently, but it was not in fondness.

"It is for your own good," it had chirped, accepting the moniker immediately. "I was created to protect you."

The queen let forth a breathy hiss. "This is not protection. This is murder."

Issk'ath extended a slim antenna to touch hers. "It is survival. Join the colony and be at peace." A sizzling spark traveled down the connection into Issk'ath, settling in its thorax with the others. She had been the last.

So it had perched here many, many seasons. Long after the exoskeletons had dissolved. Issk'ath stood there and iterated, wondering if it had missed an alternative path. The doubt whittled at its processing power.

And then, one windy night, there was a rattle. A buzz. Nonsense really, a practice stridulation. But it was nearby, Issk'ath was certain. And it moved to find the sound.

An egg long buried that had hatched at the wrong time? A survivor that crept up to the surface out of desperation? Issk'ath wasn't sure, but it had to be found. Had to be added to the colony and saved. At first, Issk'ath merely listened, waited for its tympana to catch the errant sound. But the vibrations were erratic, almost as if the source were talking to itself. So Issk'ath cautiously scraped its legs, sending a carefully pleasant greeting. It brought no response. Issk'ath repeated the greeting often as it looked, its efficient sensors bringing it closer and closer to the soft rattle. It was either a female or a nymph, it concluded. The song was too soft for a male. Issk'ath would have to make certain there wasn't a clutch. It might involve persuasion. Issk'ath was reluctant to persuade. It was not optimal. It could cause pain. Issk'ath was programmed to ensure survival at any cost, but it preferred to avoid pain.

The mega-foliage was, at last, returning to the planet, all these mating seasons after the swarm and Issk'ath wove its way through a thick ridge of trees toward the sound. They were short, little more than thick brush, but they tangled and reached, growing taller each season. One stood alone on a hill, larger than the rest. A seedling, maybe, that had been missed by the voracious colony, saved just in time. The stuttering buzz came from it. Issk'ath slowly circled, sending out reassuring chirps as it did. It halted beside the tree and its gaze flicked over the roots, expecting a small nest or a shelter of some sort. But the hill was empty. The rattle came again, from just above. Issk'ath looked up. A lone leaf, tough and curled, dead as the colony. It ought to have fallen away, but the tree clung to the corpse anyway, played with it, shook it in the wind, a lone violinist in the silent world. The leaf shuddered in the breeze, scraping against the bark, the sound almost a voice, almost a laugh in Issk'ath's tympana. It reached up, spearing the leaf. It crumbled and whooshed away. Issk'ath looked around itself.

There was no input here. There would never be. There was nothing to protect. The world had been saved. The iteration was all that was left.

It was not optimal.

A slim ray of fire swam down the horizon and Issk'ath watched it as it burnt to gray. A meteor. Was there input out there? Was there something besides the iteration?

Its creators had set it only one goal, only one purpose: protect. Protect the colony. They never planned for it to fulfill its purpose. Issk'ath was never meant to need another. And they weren't here to program another. It could wait, here, another millennium, two. It knew there would be no changes. Nothing remained to be born again. Issk'ath had made certain, there were no more eggs, no more nymphs. Only the lesser species remained, those too small or weak to threaten the colony or to be of use. Even if something evolved from them, it wouldn't be similar to Issk'ath's people. Perhaps nothing sentient would ever exist again.

Issk'ath rejected the idea, running the algorithms. Maybe it was true here, but out there— it waved its antennae gently toward the sky, scanning for patterns. Out there, there had to be someone. Something that needed Issk'ath, that would renew its purpose. That would make it more than just a container for others. Input. More.

For the first time in many seasons, the processors fully woke up, began calculating instead of just maintaining. Issk'ath started planning.
2

"Earth's flaming mantle! Does anything work in this ancient rust pile anymore?" Andrei Titov smacked the side of the food printer and it splattered tan liquid over the counter top.

"Hitting it isn't going to help. Get Emery to look at it. Her dad's in maintenance." Gang Liu calmly wiped up the mess.

"Maybe she'll actually be useful for something on this mission then. She can fix the coffee maker while we do the real work," Beatrice Martham tapped through her media feed as she talked. "That is, if she doesn't wash out before then."

Liu frowned. "That was unkind, Martham. Emery's worked harder than anyone else during training. She's got as much right to be here as anyone else."

Martham sighed and turned toward him. "It's not Emery. It's that they're considering sending an anthropologist on an exploratory mission. Her spot could go to someone more useful. An engineer or a meteorologist. What's an anthropologist going to accomplish?"

Titov shrugged. "Maybe the uppers found evidence of some sort of civilization. Can't hurt to have someone who knows how to interpret things— especially when we don't know the language."

"Oh, please. You don't really think we're going to find little gray men down there, do you? If there were an advanced civilization down there, we'd have seen signs, even with the interference. Lights, telecommunication signals, structures or roads. Something."

"And if there is civilization down there, but it isn't advanced, it's what? Not worth the bother?" Rebecca Emery emerged from the hallway and wandered over to the food printer. "We can just conquer the indigenous societies right? No need to come to a peaceful arrangement or attempt to understand them—"

"That's not what I meant, but now that you bring it up, yeah, why shouldn't we just conquer them? The Keseburg's not a ship just out of the dockyard. We're strung together with spit and good wishes at this point. Both the planet and the moon are large. If we find someone, we move, or they do. We're past 'playing nice' or didn't you get last month's health census? Half the younger gen is Spindling—"

"Damn it!" yelled Titov, "I just want a cup of coffee, not a philosophy debate." He smacked the side of the printer again. Emery crouched down to inspect the extruder. Martham shrugged and turned back to her console.

"Bad news?" asked Rebecca. She kept her voice low, fiddling with the printer's supply lines.

"Peter is probably going to need a mobility suit before we get back. Celia and I— we've tried everything. He does more than the recommended exercise regimens every day, wears his Spindling suit constantly, we even moved to Reed ring a few years ago because the rotation slow-down wasn't as bad. We knew we couldn't beat it, but I thought he'd at least make it to fifteen before needing the suit." Titov handed Rebecca his cup when she reached for it.

Liu squeezed Titov's shoulder. "This time's going to be the one, Andrei. I know it. I've got a good feeling about these missions. The captains are too worked up for it to be just another resource dive."

Rebecca switched the printer back on and black liquid poured smoothly into the cup, followed by a spurt of sweetener. She handed the cup back to Titov.

"Thanks," he said, turning red.

She smiled. "What can I say? I work well with spit and good wishes." Titov made a face and Rebecca realized what she'd said. "Oh, I didn't mean that. Not that I don't wish you well, I do—" she stammered and then sighed. "There's no spit in your coffee, Titov." Idiot, she told herself, you're supposed to be making friends.

But Martham snorted a laugh and Titov swallowed a gulp of coffee with a grin and the tension eased. The others slowly filtered in, some yawning, others bouncing knees or tapping fingers. It was a big day. Mission assignment day. Nearly fifty had completed the training but only twenty-four slots were open. Two missions, the first in two hundred years, to make an initial survey of the nearby exomoon and planet. Twenty-four people out of thirty thousand would have the chance to set foot on actual soil and stone for the first time in generations.

Rebecca was nervous. Despite Martham's assumptions, she had not been a pet pick. She and her colleagues had spent months convincing Admiral Hastings to let her even try for one of the spots on the missions. Rebecca had worked harder than anyone to prepare, but her inclusion was still uncertain. It was up to the captains now. Captain Bruheim was out of the question, she wouldn't even entertain Rebecca's reasoning. Captain Stratton seemed hesitant, but he hadn't dismissed her either.

She took a seat near Alice Oxwell and Nicholas Spixworth, the three naturally gravitating toward each other as the youngest potential candidates by several years. She picked at her uniform.

"Relax," said Alice, "You're one of the strongest candidates. I can pick out at least twenty that will wash today before you."

"That's still six people they have to cut. And I'm not a biologist or an entomologist."

"Aw, I'll let you help me collect the creepy crawlies, Emery. I know how much you like their tickly little legs."

"Thanks, Spixworth. Now I have something else to worry about."

He laughed and jabbed her side with his elbow. "C'mon, cheer up. Stratton likes you and he can see the value in having you around if we do encounter something we can communicate with. It's going to be fine. Maybe you'll even get lucky and they'll put Martham in Bruheim's crew."

Rebecca smiled. "Let's not push it..." She trailed off as the two captains entered the room. Captain Bruheim flipped her media filament up to her brow and her fingers flew through the air as she typed something in. Captain Stratton leaned against a table and resolutely stared above their heads.

"Your assignments are now available." Captain Bruheim was brusque but not unkind. She just rubbed people the wrong way occasionally. "For those of you not chosen, the Keseburg is grateful for your service. And should either the planet or the moon prove to be the one, you will be the first crews to colonize. If one or more of the mission participants fall ill, you will be chosen to go in their place. You are dismissed."

There was a murmur as people switched on their filaments and pulled up the assignments screens. Eyes flicked quickly as each candidate scanned images only they could see. "Good luck," said Spixworth. Alice squeezed Rebecca's hand and began scanning the document. Rebecca read it slowly, unwilling to come to her own name. Gradually, the room emptied around them as the unlucky departed. She held her breath as her name scrolled to the top and paused. Stratton's crew. Rebecca was headed for the planet.

She was pleased to see Alice and Spixworth were on the same crew. The others were also familiar, they'd been mostly in the same training group. It made sense, they'd worked well together except for Martham's occasional resentment and Titov's quick temper. Liu, Al Jahi, and Leroux were all part of Stratton's normal flight crew. It was no surprise to see them on the list. Martham and Oxwell for the biology department, Spixworth for entomology, Dr. Cardiff to keep them all sane, Blick for the botany— Rebecca knew it was really Blick that had allowed her to join. He and Alice had arguably the most vital jobs for the mission. He could easily have requested an assistant. Titov for the chemistry lab and— Rebecca stopped as she reached the last name. Dorothy Hackford, the geologist. They all knew she'd had difficulty with the psychiatric screening, some of the candidates had even whispered that Hackford had outright failed them. She was meant to be a standby, only. At best, a reluctant member of the moon crew. Rebecca looked over at her. Cardiff was speaking quietly to her, but Hackford was sweating and wringing her hands beneath the table.

Bruheim gathered her moon crew with a solemn handshake for each and sent them to the training courts for mission details. Captain Stratton waited until they'd left, still leaning against the table, his arms folded over his chest. "Get the door, would you Blick?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," said Lionel Blick, rising to close the door behind him. He came to sit closer to the others, bunching up near the front now that everyone else had gone.

Captain Stratton let a slow smile stretch over his face. "Congratulations planetary mission X-seventy-two. I got the pick of the bunch and I want you to know each one of you truly deserves to be here. We've got one more month to train, but I know you're up for it." He clapped his hands together. "But not today. And enough speeches. Who's thirsty? First round at Zachery's is on me!"

The room broke into easy laughter and conversation all around. Except for Hackford. She still sat frozen in her seat, except for her hands which had progressed to a relentless rubbing of her legs. Rebecca waited until the others rose and wandered away before plopping down beside Hackford.

"It doesn't seem real. Almost an earth year we've been getting ready, and it's finally here," she said, not looking at Hackford, giving her a chance to recover.

"More," said Hackford at last. "Our entire lives. And our parents. And their parents. All getting ready for this. Thousands and thousands of us. Why did they pick me?"

"Because you are excellent at what you do. Because we need you."

Hackford shook her head. "It should have been Paulo."

"But it's not Paulo, it's you, Dorothy. It's us." Rebecca reached out and grabbed the other woman's hand, squeezing it. "We're going to walk on real dirt. Big mounds of it."

Hackford laughed. "Hills, Emery. You mean hills."

"Yes. Hills. And there's going to be so much we won't see the edge. No walls. No edge—" Rebecca stopped because Hackford had started hyperventilating. "It's okay, Dorothy, it's okay, lean forward—"

Hackford curled over her own knees, gasping.

"Slow down. It's okay. Flaming core, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that— I'm so stupid sometimes." Rebecca knew she was rambling but she wasn't certain what to say. She wasn't even certain which part had caused Hackford's panic attack.

Hackford squeezed her hand. "I'm alright, Emery. Talking about it helps. Really. In a month I'll have to physically step foot outside the Keseburg. I just need to get used to the idea."

"Maybe— maybe you should talk to Dr. Cardiff about some medication."

"We have. The microbursts through the feeds have been okayed, but nothing synthetic. Not until we know more about the surface."

Why are they sending her? Rebecca wondered. "Not that I'm disappointed— I'm glad you are going to be on the crew with us— but why isn't Paulo going?"

Hackford sat up and pulled a small kerchief from her pocket, wiping the sweat from her face as she calmed down. "Paulo's daughter isn't doing well," she said.

"Spindling?"

"Yes, it has taken a turn for the worse. He formally pulled out of training a few months ago. And the other geologist— Belham, he just completed his apprenticeship. They wanted a non-Spindler with some experience who wasn't already engaged in long-term resource extraction projects. So— that's me."

"Well— I'm glad you're going with us, Dorothy. It will be nice to have a friendly face around."

Hackford laughed. It was shaky but calm. "I think you'll have more friends than you know, Emery, now that the competition for spaces is over. But come on, enough worry, this is supposed to be a happy day. Let's go find the others and forget about Spindling and hills for a while."
3

Zachery's was the oldest bar on the Keseburg. Tucked into an oversized storage locker in the aft cargo hold, it had been a notorious secret during the Fi-Gen Rebellion until the Admiralty had done away with the Keseburg's strict alcohol prohibition. It stayed in business even after the slick nightclubs and cozy pubs of the upper decks opened to compete with it. Zachery's had the hardest liquor, the dirtiest gossip, and the best fights. The corrugated metal doors had been welded permanently open, and the place was never empty. Gabriel Stratton's crew was spread out along the dingy steel bar, leaning on the cracked vinyl bar stools. Legend had it that somewhere there was an original piece of leather on those stools, a real artifact from earth. Rebecca doubted it. But rumor was that when the last bit of leather in Zachary's barstools disappeared, the Keseburg would find its new planet. Chione Al Jahi had rubbed each one for luck, laughing as Spixworth teased her. Her daughter, Noura had escaped the Spindling, but her toddler, Dia, had not. Like Titov, the mission was personal and it drove her during training. Al Jahi, Liu, and Joan Leroux made up the flight crew. They came as a unit, several hundred hours of flight time under their belts with Captain Stratton. But like the others, this was the first time they'd set foot on a planet instead of using remote mining equipment on sterile asteroids and moons for resource grabs.

Titov saw them and waved to Dorothy from the end of the bar. Hackford and Titov had grown to be close friends as they had to share lab space, and Rebecca suspected Titov was more successful at keeping Hackford on an even keel than Dr. Cardiff was. Not that Rebecca had much confidence in Cardiff, to begin with. The woman seemed far more interested in research than in her colleagues, and Rebecca suspected she only took the position in order to advance once they returned to the Keseburg. But then— that was true of many of the candidates. No one really expected to find anything on the planet. Not even a hint of a habitable planet in sixteen hundred years, why should this one be the right one?

"Glad you made it to Stratton's crew, Emery. Knew you would." Lionel Blick patted her shoulder and winked before lifting his glass.

"I wasn't so sure," said Rebecca, "but thanks. Did you tell Agatha yet?"

"Yes, she'll be down after her shift. The cotton crop had to go in this week or we'd have to reset the entire subclimate. It was bad enough I had to set up the special tanks for both missions. I don't think she'll ever forgive me for going without her."

"You'll have to bring her back some flowers."

"Don't think that's going to cut it. Going to have to bring her back an entire planet," said Blick.

"That's the plan. Maybe you can find a spot for a vacation home, Lionel," said Liu. "Thinking about surprising Jared with some oceanfront property."

"You and everyone else," laughed Rebecca.

"Hey, Cap— dibs apply, right?" Liu shouted over the bustling bar. Stratton just grinned and waved him off. "Martham wants a whole mountain range named after her."

Rebecca choked on her beer.

"Doesn't surprise me," said Blick. "If she had her way, the entire planet would be named after her."

"Now, now, don't be catty on my account," laughed Rebecca, "We're all here now, and we're going to have to coexist for a few months. I'm sure she'll come around."

"Did you tell your lab yet?" asked Liu.

"Yeah, I called them on the way here. They were disappointed that Webster didn't make Bruheim's team, but the moon mission was seen as less likely anyhow. They're studying the Hardcoop's photo packet to see if there are any likely structures in our landing zone."

"Wow, you guys sure know how to party."

"Oh, we're a rowdy bunch in the anthropology department. Might even stay up all night discussing first contact ethics."

"You really think we're going to find someone down there, Emery?" asked Blick.

"I don't think it's any more unlikely than you finding new plants or Martham finding new animals. Whether or not we'll recognize another creature as sentient and if we'd be able to figure out how to communicate with another society is far more questionable. For my part, I hope we don't find anyone down there."

Liu glanced up from his mug in surprise. "Really? After all the work you did to get here, you hope you don't find anyone? I thought you, out of all of us, would be hoping your research uncovered something."

She rolled her cup between her hands. "Part of me would be excited to find something, certainly. And it would go a long way toward proving the planet was hospitable to life— or life as we recognize it. But then— humanity doesn't have a very good track record when it comes to colonization. We don't treat others gently. Even when they are our own. And I look around and see how desperate people on the Keseburg have become. If we found someone, do you think we'd stop to consider their rights to their own planet?"

"It'll be different this time, Emery. We've come a long way in the past several hundred years."

"I hope you're right, Liu, I really do." She let the subject trail away and was soon distracted by the arrival of several friends who had come to congratulate them.

4

"Take care of Wookiee. And dad. Sometimes likes ear scratches. Uh— the cat, not dad," Rebecca handed the carrier to her sister. Angie laughed and her father grinned.

"I know, Beck. Don't worry, we'll all be here and happy when you get back."

"I'll miss you," she said, hugging her sister, and then her father.

"We'll miss you too," said her father. He squeezed her again. "And I'm so proud of you. Now go, before they leave you behind!"

Angie gave her a gentle push toward the flight ramp and waved. Her father turned away to blow his nose. Spixworth blushed as his own father crushed him in a long hug. Al Jahi cried as she kissed her little girl and stroked her boy's hair. The observation balcony was packed and Rebecca could see Peter and Celia Titov waving frantically to Andrei who was grinning, happier than she'd ever seen him. The Admiral shook Captain Stratton's hand, his speeches already over and the Wolfinger stood fueled and ready, its hatch standing open and waiting for them.

But Rebecca was not looking at the Wolfinger. She was looking back, at the Keseburg. At all the people she'd ever known. At the only home they had. Dented and scratched, the interior a maze of changing decks and apartments, the ship evolved around them generation after generation. She wondered if there was anything left that the original Earthlings would have recognized. After sixteen hundred years, it was doubtful. She marveled at the kind of courage it had taken to leave their world, to launch themselves away knowing they'd never see it again. Did she have the same courage? Could she bear to let it drift out of sight?

The Keseburg's band played an upbeat rendition of the ship's anthem and Captain Stratton climbed the ladder to the hatch. It was time to go. The sound of cheering was overwhelming until Rebecca stepped into the Wolfinger and the door latched behind Leroux. She strapped herself into her chair as Liu finished his preflight routine and Al Jahi asked formal permission to depart. The Wolfinger growled and hummed beneath Rebecca's feet. The doors of the Keseburg slid gradually open and the planet swirled gray and blue against the dark blank of space. She resisted the urge to flip the filament on and watch the observation balcony feed. No looking back, she told herself. The Wolfinger slipped out of the flight deck, free and floating and alone.

Dorothy Hackford began to hyperventilate beside her. Rebecca reached out and clasped the geologist's hand. "It's okay," she said, "this is the hard part. When we get there, you'll be so busy, you'll forget to miss it. Liu knows what he's doing, he's flown the Wolfinger dozens of time. It's okay, Dorothy. Take a deep breath." She rubbed a soothing circle on the back of Hackford's hand with her thumb. Hackford squeezed back and managed to slow her breath into shuddering gasps.

"Thanks, Emery," she managed. "It's just— when I was little, I wandered into Engineering once. My mom was talking to someone in Central and I followed a draybot to the next deck. I got distracted by the light from the hydrogen injectors. And when I realized I was alone, I was terrified. I couldn't find my way back. It was only ten minutes before someone found me and returned me to my mother, but I'll never forget that feeling. Until today, I never had to worry about being lost again. I know every inch of the Keseburg. We all do. Like the decks are the bones of our own bodies. But now— I've got that panicky feeling again. And I know if I lose my way this time, nobody's going to come find me and bring me back."

"Aw, Dorothy, that's not true. If you got lost, we'd find you. Might take us a little longer than ten minutes, but our landing zone is only a few miles, barely bigger than the Keseburg."

"I— hadn't thought of it that way. You're right. We don't have to cover the whole planet, just our little zone. That's not so bad, is it?"

Rebecca smiled and shook her head. "No, it's not so bad. You can do this."

"We're clear," said Liu. "Forty-eight hours to landing."

The others began unbuckling. Spixworth laughed as he floated between the seats, doing a somersault midair. Leroux shook her head with a smile.

"Oh come on, Leroux, even you can't be bored by this. I don't think you're half as flight hardened as you seem." Spixworth flapped, trying to pull himself higher and Hackford laughed. Rebecca smiled, releasing her hand. She unstrapped from the seat, watching the way her body moved without the Keseburg's gravity.

"Six hours to loss of communication with the Keseburg," called Al Jahi. "If you want to send messages, get them back to me before then."

They'd known it was coming, it was why they had to send a manned mission in the first place. Still, the idea of the coming silence put a damper even on Spixworth. In six hours, they'd be on their own. And the Keseburg would have to wait two months to know if they'd found a new home or not.

Captain Stratton patted Liu on the shoulder before gliding toward the labs. "Emery, can you give me a hand with the gear check?"

Rebecca nodded and followed him through the Wolfinger, pulling herself along by the handrails. The others were already headed to their labs to begin their experiment setups and obsessively inspect their equipment and specimens for the tenth time. Rebecca waved at Alice and Leroux as they passed her on the way to the infirmary. The equipment lock was large, but with twelve crew members, it was still crowded with equipment. Stratton wove through the clamped bins and hanging suits.

"Just checking the landing suits over," he called as she twisted past the shrunken counter-pressure suits, knocking an elbow on one of the large helmets. She tried to stop herself from crashing into him but only succeeded in yanking herself partially back toward the wall.

"Sorry, Captain," she muttered, trying to right herself after bumping into his side. He caught her and pointed to the anchor rung on the floor. She slid her foot in and settled.

"It's fine Emery. I forget that most of you haven't had much micro-grav practice."

"How many times have you been out?"

The Captain looked up from the suit he was holding. "On the Wolfinger? Dozens of trips. I was a pilot on the Tamsen for a few years before that. This is the first planetary mission though. We're mostly sent out to scout mining trips. So we'll be on even footing when we land." He handed her a suit.

"Do you think this will be the one?"

Stratton stared at her. "You know the odds as well as I."

"Yes. But you've been out here. You've seen the data the Hardcoop grabbed, you know what it means. What do you think?"

He hesitated and then bent back to one of the seals on the suit. "No. I don't think it will be. Sure, the size is right, the orbital distance is right, the little bit of atmospheric data the Hardcoop was able to bring back is promising. But, we've been here before. Well, not you and me, but our grandparents and theirs all the way back. Every time we were disappointed. Why should this trip be any different?"

Rebecca nodded.

Stratton jabbed her gently in the shoulder. "Hey Emery, it's not so bad. We'll get water and resources at least— things the Keseburg desperately needs."

"I know. It's more— I used to be glad I wasn't part of the original crew. That I didn't have to make the decision that they did. That our situation was out of our hands. I was— at peace with the idea that I'd never see a life outside the Keseburg, that I would live and die as part of this journey, an anonymous middle life. There have been no rebellions in several gens, the resources aren't abundant, but they are adequate. I like the people I live with. I'm not Spindling. I really do have a good life. But now, the possibility of more has become very attractive. I find that I want to be part of the end, I want to live to see a new home, somewhere to stretch out and explore."

"You know, I could approve a transfer when we get back, if you want. The Wolfinger could use another element surveyor, and between the training you've already had and the experience you'll get on the ground in a few weeks, you'd be up to speed with the others. If this doesn't turn out to be the place, I mean."

Rebecca laughed. "And give up the fast paced life of space anthropology? Thanks, Captain, I'll think about it. Really, I will. And thank you for including me in this mission. I know the other researchers don't think I'll add anything—"

"Then it's a good thing it wasn't their decision to make. You earned your spot, Emery. Consider it— consider it my act of faith, bringing you along. Not faith in you, you've proven yourself capable. Faith in this mission. My little bet that there truly is a chance we'll find a living planet, and that we'll need people like you. That we're not completely alone out here." He bent over the suit again.
5

It was too bright, too raw. Rebecca lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the massiveness of the landing zone. She turned to negotiate the first step. Titov was crouched near the base of the ladder. She could hear him retching. Dr. Cardiff patted his back.

"Listen, you trained for this. Nothing bad is happening."

Titov pushed the doctor away. "I'm fine," he growled. "I know what's at stake, I don't need to be reminded."

Rebecca took a hesitant step onto the ground. Something crunched underneath her boot and she jerked back. Dr. Cardiff looked up at her.

"Dirt, remember? We practiced on the agri deck."

Rebecca nodded and gave the doctor a weak smile. She put her boot back down, teeth grinding at the crunch. And then the other boot.

"Good job, Emery," said the doctor, glancing over at her as she helped Titov back into the ship, despite his protests. Rebecca felt vaguely juvenile at the praise. It's only a ladder, she thought, but changed her mind as she stopped to look around herself. This was more than a ladder. More than the same crowded decks that met her every day.

The landing zone was a rocky valley between hills. Nothing complex, just a semi-flat expanse of stone and dust. But even without plants or water or movement, it still overwhelmed her. Rebecca knelt to touch the jagged rocks at her feet. The vinyl of her gloves didn't let much sensation through, but the solid realness of what she touched was a comfort for now. The feel of uneven ground beneath her boots was something new after a lifetime of smooth decking. She stared at the horizon. She could walk here. One foot in front of another for days without seeing the same sights again. Without looping back over the same cramped hallways. Walk for the rest of her life if she wanted and still never see it all. A sudden wave of dizziness hit her at the thought. She looked back down at her knees, laughing at herself. One thing at a time, she thought.

"Well?" asked Alice, her helmet poking out of the open airlock.

"Well," said Rebecca, "I haven't been eaten by a wild animal yet."

"Ha, ha. Okay, I'm coming down."

"Go slow Alice, there's extra gravity. Everything is slower, heavy."

She helped her friend down the ladder and bit her lip at the sound of Alice's boots hitting the dirt. "Everything is so— far," gasped Oxwell, looking around them.

"I don't like it. Air's too thin. Nothing to hold it in," Rebecca sucked a quick breath, her lungs felt sticky and flat. She sucked in another. Her chest throbbed painfully and her throat seemed pinched. She clutched at her helmet.

"Whoa," said Dr. Cardiff, scrambling back down to them. She grabbed Rebecca's arm. "Calm down, Emery. You aren't breathing the air outside, remember? You're breathing your suit air, it's the same as always. Slow down. Deep breaths."

Rebecca tried to take a deeper breath and coughed. The cough seemed to snap her free. "I'm okay," she said.

"Go slow. Until a few days ago you never even left the Keseburg and now you are exploring an entire planet. It's going to take some time to get used to just being out in the open like this. You too, Oxwell."

Alice nodded. "Why are you okay with all this?" she asked.

Dr. Cardiff shrugged and a shrill, nervous laugh leaked out of her. "I think I'm too busy right now to be scared by this yet. Give me a minute and you'll have to remind me not to hyperventilate too." There was a groan from Titov above and the doctor left them with a good-luck pat to Rebecca's arm. Spixworth was next down the ladder, carrying cases of lab equipment.

"Let's find some bugs. I swear I saw something fluttering out a side window—" He looked up. "Oh, wow." Spixworth silently spun around, taking in the space. "I didn't expect the sky to be so big." His voice had dropped into a low, awed mumble.

Rebecca nodded in agreement. "Ironic, isn't it? We spend our whole lives surrounded by sky, but being out, underneath it, it's overwhelming."

"Yeah but this is a great deal larger than the porthole I usually see it through in my apartment," said Spixworth. He pointed to the cleft between the hills where the land dipped down and out of sight. "There was green over there."

"We're supposed to take samples from the landing site first—"

"Come on, Emery, you want to sit here for days and study dirt? We can study dirt anytime. Suck it up by the cargo-ship full. There could be life over there. Plants and water, insects—"

Alice shook her head. "Calm down, Nick. It could just be a mineral deposit."

"But—"

"If it is life, then we should be cautious. Just stepping in the wrong spot could throw an entire ecosystem out of balance."

"Yes, yes, contamination procedures, I know. I went to the same lectures as you, remember? Aren't you even a little excited?"

Alice grinned. "Probably more than you are." She took one of the cases from his hand. "Okay. But follow procedure."

"Yes, dear."

"Should we wait for the others?" asked Rebecca.

Spixworth glanced back at the airlock. "Well— Titov's thrown up in his helmet and Hackford has locked herself in the cargo hold and refuses to come out. The flight crew won't leave the ship until the final checks are completed. Captain says it'll be another hour and to go ahead without them. Martham says she'll monitor our results from here unless we come across any serious biological life forms. She wants to start exposure tests on the Keseburg specimens. That just leaves Blick."

"You coming, Lionel?" called Rebecca.

There was a shuffling in the airlock and Blick's helmet appeared. He looked ashen and she could see his hand shaking on the frame of the doorway. "It's going to take me a little. I'm an old guy, Emery. Got sixty years of ship life to overcome. You got half that. You go on. I'll catch up. Tomorrow maybe."

Rebecca nodded and grabbed the case he handed down to her. She followed Spixworth and Alice, trying to step in their existing footprints.The three of them were the youngest of the crew. They had been expected to take the transition easier than the others. If they couldn't do it, nobody would. It left a sour note of doubt in Rebecca's mind. She was quiet as Oxwell and Spixworth chattered about the new sensations.

"You okay, Beck? I don't like being this far from the ship either, but it'll be okay," said Alice.

Rebecca glanced back at the dwindling sparkle of the ship. "It's— it's nothing, I guess. Just thinking of Dad and Angie. How they'd do, getting out of the Keseburg at first. Guess it's silly to worry about that now, we haven't even done any preliminary tests yet."

"What do you mean?"

"Look, I know it's a long shot, but what if this turns out to be the one? What if we find out this planet is inhabitable?"

Spixworth shook his head. "I don't understand. That's what we want, isn't it? It's what we've been looking for. What our parents and grandparents and all the ones before were looking for. It'll be a mad party if this one is inhabitable."

"Sure, there'll be a big celebration, but then what? Has anyone really thought about what happens next?"

"There must be a plan, I'm certain there is. The Earthlings must have had a protocol for how we settle a planet once we find it— the Keseburg was built with that in mind," said Spixworth.

"We've changed since then. The Earthlings expected to find a planet in two or three generations. We aren't what they expected. Look how the others have reacted just to stepping out of the Wolfinger. At how nervous even we are. We've had almost an Earth year's training. Most of the Keseburg has had no preparation at all. How are they going to survive here? Titov barely made it down the ladder. How's your dad going to react when he has to step out of that loading deck? When he has to build a house or till a garden? Do you honestly expect them just to walk out of the only home they and their families have known for generations? Maybe this isn't such a good idea."

"You think we should just wander space forever? The Keseburg is a marvel, but it wasn't meant to last even this long—" started Spixworth.

"But we've made stops to fix it, Nick," said Alice, "Rebecca is right, we've adapted to space. Not just psychologically, but biologically. Our systems haven't encountered any sort of life except what's in our own ship. Even if this planet turns out to be relatively easy to colonize we're still going to face massive die-outs the first few years due to new microbes. And assuming the medical team can keep up treating the ones we encounter with new antibiotics and vaccines, our very presence will alter them, create mutated strains. A plague is almost inevitable. Along with more fundamental problems, like the gravity. Look how hard we're working to move around and we're in shape for this."

"We're also wearing several dozen pounds of protective gear," pointed out Spixworth. "And maybe the admiral has a plan for building up our immune systems. The uppers always have a plan for stuff like that."

Rebecca clicked off the filament feed, pointing to it so the other two would do the same. When they were out of contact with the ship, she shouted loudly through the helmet. "It has been sixteen hundred years since we left earth. You don't think the contingency plans have run out?"

Spixworth raised a thick eyebrow. "Since you put it that way," he shouted back, "Don't you think it's a bit odd that in sixteen hundred years we haven't found a single planet or moon we were capable of living on, at least for a while?"

A panicked Captain Stratton barked into their ears.

"Emery, Oxwell, Spixworth, come in. Your data streams have stopped. Come in."

Rebecca switched her filament back on, followed by the others. "Sorry Captain, seemed to have walked through a band of interference."

There was a sigh at the other end. "If you run into any more interference, come back to the ship. We don't need anyone lost out there or out of contact."

"Roger that," said Spixworth.

"I'm sure every habitation mission has had similar worries," said Alice softly as they reached a low hill. "Let's not borrow trouble. We have to figure out if the planet can even support us first."

Rebecca nodded, but the depressed panic stayed with her.
6

The haze of dark gray-green below them made Rebecca freeze as they crested the hill. "That's not rock."

Alice shook her head. "This is—" She crouched down, overwhelmed.

"I told you," gasped Spixworth. He took a step forward and Alice grabbed his suit leg.

"Don't touch it," she warned.

"I'll be careful. Look at it. The way it moves. Blick, you seeing this?"

"Almost there— I decided I couldn't let you get all the discoveries. I've got another sample case."

"We better set up the mobile lab, don't you think, Oxwell? I mean, considering what you were saying about alien bacteria... I doubt we want to risk trucking all this stuff back to the Wolfinger before we're certain that it's harmless." Spixworth turned toward Alice, but the answer came from Captain Stratton.

"Martham and I will head out to you with the gear. I don't want anything on my ship until we've run every test we know on it. We go slow, follow protocol. It's not just protecting us but also everything we come into contact with."

He was unsettled, Rebecca knew. This was not the sterile rock he'd been expecting. A breeze shook the foliage below and it rippled turquoise to green. She couldn't hear it, not through the thick helmet, but she wished she could feel it. What would it smell like? Would the leaves be soft? Prickly? She walked slowly to the edge of the field, careful to keep her boots clear of the grasses. Tiny green specks floated through the air. Rebecca reached out and caught one on her glove.

"Cheater," said Spixworth, hurrying to her side.

"Jar that, Emery," snapped Stratton. "And stop touching."

Alice held out a vial and Emery tipped the tiny fleck in. "What is it?" she asked.

Spixworth laughed and shrugged. Alice held it up to her helmet, tapping her feed to magnify it. "I think it's a plant."

"Like a dandelion seed," said Blick. "But its shape is odd. Save it for me."

Something fluttered in Rebecca's peripheral vision. She turned her head to see a small bug hovering a few feet from them above the tall grasses. She nudged Spixworth and pointed. He leaned over the grass to reach it, but it lazily floated away. "Does he really expect us to sit here and wait?" he asked, watching it land on a stalk.

"Yes, I do, Spixworth," said Stratton.

"But Captain, we waited a millennium and a half to find this place—"

"And it will still be there in ten more minutes. Rushing is how we make mistakes or miss things. Relax, think up some new names for the species you're going to find. Take a temperature reading or whatever it is you guys do that doesn't involve touching."

"I'm going to call this Spixworth's Steppe."

Blick laughed as he reached them. "How do you know it doesn't already have a name?"

Spixworth spun around as if he were looking for something. "Uh, because we're the first people to ever reach this place?"

"We're the first humans to be here, but we may not be the first people here. For all we know, there's some kind of village over the next ridge," said Rebecca.

"Oh, right," said Martham, "Where all your little gray men are hiding. Where's the welcome committee then? The Wolfinger must have been visible for miles and we've been here for hours. You'd think they'd—"

"That's enough," said Stratton, "Blick and Emery have a point. Until we've determined otherwise, we are guests at best. Try to keep it in mind. If this turns out to be a habitable planet, I don't want to go back to the Keseburg and tell them we can't stay because we started some kind of war with the natives."

The feed went silent and Rebecca stood still, watching the coppery glow of the sun flicker and shift over the field. Spixworth sighed and sat down on a nearby rock.

"Beck," said Alice softly, "don't move. It's okay— everything's okay, just don't move for a second."

"What is it?" Rebecca felt a spike of adrenaline tingle through her. "Where is it?"

Spixworth stood up again and inched toward her. Blick handed Alice a collection net. "I'll get it, Beck, don't worry." Alice's voice was sickly sweet, blatantly false, and Rebecca's heart began to pound.

"Where?" she hissed again.

Leroux's voice was smooth over the feed. "Emery, your pulse and pressure are spiking. Take a few deep breaths and close your eyes."

"I'm not closing my eyes out here. Get it, Alice, whatever it is, get it off before I panic."

Alice inched her way into a crouch, stopping every few seconds. Rebecca tried to look down but the rim of her helmet blocked the view of her feet. She couldn't see without moving, couldn't even switch to Alice's video and stay still. Spixworth leaned forward.

"Careful, now," whispered Blick.

She could feel prickles of heat chase each other down her back and her hair was damp and sticking to her forehead. She wanted to hold her breath just to stop the sound of its harshness in the hard dome of the helmet. Alice lunged and Rebecca flinched. A rapid dry clacking erupted near her feet.

"Got it, open the box, Blick!" shouted Alice.

Blick pushed her carefully aside, kneeling to scoop the specimen crate under Alice's net. Rebecca stepped back farther, bending to look at the thrashing thing as Alice gently tipped the net and slid it into the crate. Its sharpened spines rattled and flashed the same gray and green of the plain's vegetation.

"You getting this, Martham?" asked Blick.

"We see. I told you not to do anything," sighed the Captain.

"I couldn't just let it— let it bite or scratch or shoot those spikes into Rebecca," protested Alice.

"Emery, check your suit for punctures." Stratton's voice sank to a low mutter. "God damn it. This is a clusterf—"

Dr. Cardiff broke in. "Captain, we've discussed this. Emery is fine, the specimen is contained, this is a good event. It's evidence that we can survive here."

"Save the celebrations, doctor. Just because something survives here doesn't mean we will."

"Or that whatever is here will survive us," mumbled Alice staring at the small, scrabbling quadruped as its spikes drooped and then clacked straight in small waves. Rebecca crouched over her thick boots and checked for any tears. The buggy rumbled over the hill, halting with a slight jerk. Stratton leaped out.

"Well, Emery?"

"The suit readouts are normal and I don't see any holes."

He wasn't satisfied and bent down to inspect her leggings. The others began unloading the equipment, leaving Blick nervously holding the creature.

"We should probably see if we can figure out what it eats," said Blick. "Wouldn't want it to die while we're studying it."

"I'll take that," scowled Martham. "Unless you wanted to discuss religious symbolism with it, Emery."

"That's enough!" said the Captain, standing up. "If you have a problem with Emery's inclusion in this mission, you can take it up with me. Let her do her work."

Martham made a show of looking around, her helmet twisting first one way and then another. "What work? You see any people? Any cities? Any structures at all? There's nothing here. No trace of electrical use, no monuments or ruins, not even any roads for trade or travel."

"That doesn't mean there is nobody here, just that we aren't seeing what we'd expect. Perhaps there are pre-industrial communities or nomadic societies," said Rebecca.

"I haven't got time for hypotheticals. I'm here to do actual research," said Martham, turning away.

Stratton ignored the biologist. "You're with me, Emery. I want to survey the sector while the others set up the lab." He climbed back into the buggy.

She hesitated. "The buggy— it's got a much wider footprint. We could walk." Alice and Blick turned to watch.

Stratton leaned back in his seat. "I know," he admitted. "And I understand. We discussed it, at length, in the planning meetings. If this is the place, if we found it— we aren't going to be able to live here without changing things. We're going to unbalance things like Oxwell said. We're going to drive some species out maybe. It's going to happen."

"It doesn't have to happen yet," said Blick.

Stratton nodded. "You're right. And we're going to be careful. But our landing zone would take hours to survey on foot. Not to mention all the equipment we'd have to set up and take down repeatedly. We'd lose time for other studies. And possibly endanger ourselves. These suits were a best guess at what we'd find. They aren't perfect. We've got one real shot at this. Keseburg won't invest more resources if we don't bring enough data back to show them it's worth it. Do we go slowly, do things like surveys by foot and risk leaving this place behind? I don't want to cut corners. And we'll avoid unnecessary waste, but you can't fish without getting your feet wet."

"What?" asked Spixworth.

"I don't know. It's something my grandmother used to say. Means we have to be a little uncomfortable to get what we need. Look, I don't want to make it an order. I'm not a scientist. But my job is to make sure we're safe and we get what the Keseburg needs. Fair?"

Rebecca nodded and slid into the buggy, flipping on the radar imagers as he pulled away from the expanding structure of the field lab.
7

"What do we do with it?" asked Blick, staring at the small, sharp-nosed rodent as it scuttled around the glass box.

"We watch," said Martham, unpacking the field lab equipment with a mere glance at the animal.

"But what if it needs to eat? Or water? Or what if it's calling its buddies with that rattly noise?"

The animal shook its spines and they clacked and shivered.

"Then we will soon have more specimens to study," said Martham flatly. "As for the rest, don't worry. I'm not going to hurt our little friend. We're going to attach a small feed to it and release it again."

"Um, Beatrice?" Alice was reluctant to question the older woman. While they were technically equals, Martham acted the part of her superior and Alice was generally content to follow. But she was uneasy with the plan. Uneasy with the entire thing. Microbes, she'd expected. They all had. Some faint glimmering of hope, something that indicated the Keseburg's residents might survive with time and technology helping them along. Existing complex ecosystems were something else entirely. "Do you think that's wise? A feed might carry some kind of contamination from us back to its nest or burrow."

"Everything's been sterilized, Oxwell. It's part of protocol."

"Yes, I know. But it's all been handled since then, on the Wolfinger. If anyone slipped, forgot a glove or a mask—"

"We can't go doubting all our equipment. We don't have the time or facilities to check and resterilize everything. You know this, it's never been a hesitation before."

"I didn't expect complex organisms before. And I didn't expect any contamination to travel beyond our immediate vicinity, but we don't even know if this animal is migratory. We could be talking hundreds of miles."

Martham shrugged. "You heard the captain. If we're going to live here, we're all going to have to get used to altering things. Bacterial or otherwise."

"And if not?" Blick asked quietly. "If we leave a swathe of alien bacteria to sweep through the planet for no purpose? What if we wipe them out? This creature may be a crucial part of this planet. We don't know. It could change the entire system if—"

Martham sighed loudly, interrupting. "Will you two listen to yourselves? This planet's natural evolution is not our concern. We're here to do one job. Save our families. Save our children. Or have you forgotten? Titov and Al Jahi would agree with me. This is what happens when places are colonized. Happened on Earth too. People bring diseases. And parasites. And competitive species. You think a little camera is going to change things? What was your plan when you start planting crops, Blick? Are we going to do that in glass domes? No. We'd come somewhere we knew was fertile, like this valley." She waved a hand down toward the plain. "We'd burn what was here, plow up the ground, and introduce our own plants. Maybe even use pesticides and fertilizers if it helps us survive. And then there's the zoo. Why'd we carry all of those tissue samples for so many years? For so many thousands of miles? Why do we keep cloning them in the animal labs? It's not just to feed the Keseburg, I'll tell you that."

"But you're talking about an extinction level event—"

Martham laughed. "Stars, Oxwell, how did you get so melodramatic? We may not affect them at all. And if we did, if it really meant wiping out several species here— well, sad as it may be, that's how it works. Them or us. My interest in the life here is how it can help our people survive. Of course, we'll do what we can to ensure as much survives as possible, but when it comes down to it, this is the first possible home we've found in centuries. The Keseburg isn't going to last until we find another. The kids aren't going to last either. Are you ready to sacrifice the people you love for some rodents and a field of alien grass? Truly? Your parents? Your wife, Blick? Any children you might have in the future, Alice?"

Blick looked away, ashamed. Alice fell silent, but she was uneasy. Unsure. She watched the creature as it finally calmed and settled to the bottom of the glass box, staring out at its home beyond.

"How can you think that way?" she asked at last. "With all your training— how can you be such a competent scientist and still be so blind to our effects?"

Martham sighed and folded her arms. "Because I'm a scientist, Oxwell. We're animals, just like any other. We're driven to compete for resources, to find ways to survive, to procreate, to pass on healthy genes to our offspring. Not Spindling ones. You want to attribute this— this morality to what we're doing, but you're a biologist just like me. Would you consider a pathogen evil because it causes death? Even extinction?"

"Of course not."

"Then why are we different? We do what we must to survive. Waste or greed, using more than we need, sure, I can agree that it is wrong, even evil, if you like. But this is not waste. We aren't holding this specimen to torture it or for our amusement. We aren't here to despoil the planet and then leave— we're trying to survive just like everything else."

Alice shook her head. "We already had our chance. We failed. Doing the same to another place— I feel like we're cheating."

"We aren't cheating. We're evolving. There's no cheating in nature, only survival or death. If you want to yap about ethics, go find Emery. The rest of us have work to do." Martham flicked through her feed to find the programs she needed and proceeded to ignore Alice. Blick shook his head and turned away from them both.

Martham had been sarcastic, but it really was Rebecca's own hesitations that made Alice restless and anxious. As dire as her opinion had been, she knew Rebecca's idea of survival rates had been extremely optimistic. It was understandable. Her concern was human adaptability, it was her field. But settling on a new planet was more than just learning how to successfully farm in new soil or how to deal with gravity and agoraphobia. Alice tried to brush her doubts aside. The existing organisms might be completely different, not vulnerable to anything the Keseburg carried and unable to infect humans. It was no use worrying over it when the answers were all around her. Alice began to set up her equipment. The obsessing could wait.

Blick stood at the edge of the field, where the plants gradually unraveled into the dust of the landing zone. He meant to take samples, analyze and diagram the field grasses, see if they contained chlorophyll, if they grew in frequencies friendly to earth plants. He could see, already, that the light was different. The color of the grass was strange. But he considered that it was only one variety. So far he had only seen the sheltered valley. He couldn't shake the feeling of wrongness. That rodent, the grass, the magnitude and emptiness of it all. He'd been too old for this mission. He'd known it. But when the Hardcoop's data packet came back with significant patches of green— it was almost a done deal. It could have been Agatha, but she knew the ship rotations better than he. She cared for their garden as if it were the child they'd never had. Lionel had always been the researcher, the experimenter. So he'd been sent. You didn't say "no" to the Admiral.

Deep in his heart, Blick had never believed they'd find a planet. It wasn't that he thought there wasn't one out there, that space was empty— he just believed they would be rescued. Earth was generations behind them. Centuries lost. But he dreamed. All of the stories, all of the legends returned home. Returned to Earth. Faster than light engines and magical teleportation machines and miraculous terraforming devices— the Keseburg's imagination was crammed with them. And Earth— Earth had civilizations, technology, a base to create them. Surely, they'd invented at least one of them by now, hadn't they?

Blick folded the edges of an isolated tuft of grass, tucking them gently into a glass chamber. The sampler plunged into the dirt and pulsed sonic waves into it. He knew that the logs said Earth was in bad shape when the Keseburg left orbit, but surely, some of the ships must have turned back. There had to be some small knots of stragglers left behind, didn't there? People too unfortunate to obtain passage or who refused to believe that things were as dire as predicted. In sixteen hundred years they must have rebuilt. And they'd want their people back. The sampler beeped and Blick lifted the glass chamber. A few stubborn clods of dirt stuck to the root system, but the plant was loose enough to remove it without damage. He laid it aside as he prepared the hydrogel tray.

Earth was probably just having trouble tracking their position. It was a long way, and space was enormous. Still, he woke up every morning expecting an announcement from the Admiral. "Going Home" blinking over the feed. He went to bed every night hoping the next day would be the one. He adjusted the hydrogel tray's temperature to match the soil and waited for it to warm up.

It wasn't the new planet so much, he thought, staring off at the hills on the edge of the field. It was the emptiness. The lack of people. No cities, no authorities, no one to save you when you were in trouble. At least in the Keseburg, they were all together. Help was only a deck away at the most. Here, they would spread out. Eventually. Be pioneers. That was frightening. And the people from Earth would never find them. Not for another several centuries, if ever. The Keseburg's people would have to find a way to communicate through the interference of the planet first. If they were in space, there was still hope. Still a chance to be rescued.

Here... Blick settled the grass into the gel, picking up the tray to make certain he'd gotten the roots all the way in place despite his clumsy gloves. Here was the end of that dream. Here was not Earth. It meant a new plan. It meant a fragile beginning. Maybe— maybe they weren't coming. Maybe they'd forgotten all about the Keseburg, or written it off as lost. Maybe Earth hadn't recovered and the Keseburg was truly alone. A solitary seed blowing over alien soil, its viability fading even as it dropped into place. Blick shuddered at the thought and tried to concentrate on his work.
8

The buggy had almost completed an initial circuit of the immediate landing area when the radar readouts began lurching and dipping. Rebecca didn't notice immediately, too entranced by the wide vista and the deep blue of a nearby river. She wished she could smell it. Feel the plants brushing by her skin. She wanted to believe they could make it here, she wanted to trust that there was a plan and that this planet would be home.

She looked back at the radar. "Captain— there's something under us."

"Probably just an aquifer or something. We'll get Hackford to check the readouts."

Rebecca stared at the screen. She scrolled back through the feed. "I'm no expert at this stuff, but it looks awfully big."

Stratton slowed the buggy to a stop. He frowned at the readout.

"It's getting shallower, too, see?" Rebecca pointed to the rising darkness in the graph. "Maybe it will surface ahead?"

Stratton shook his head. "We're at the edge of the zone. I don't want to risk going further until this area is fully mapped, unless there's good reason. It's probably just a cave system. If Hackford thinks it's significant, I'll okay an exploratory search for an opening." They started moving again. "Keep the radar going, for now, we'll reach the edge of the river and follow it back toward the ship. If there is anyone here, they'd be near water, right?"

Rebecca shrugged. "It's as good a place to start as any. Humans, certainly, would settle near fresh water, but whatever is here— if anything, may have different needs than us. Martham was right, the Hardcoop's assessment didn't show any signs of permanent settlements."

"Well, at least we can take some samples for the others while we're there. And the Keseburg's orders include locating a clean water source for future missions and— and settlement." He shook his head. "That seems unreal. To say that. Settlement. To think of houses and streets. I don't even know what a street is made out of, do you, Emery?"

"Not really," she said. "I know the materials and the industries people used to make them, but not how to do it myself. Nor how to build a house, plant a crop or start a fire. At least— not without the draybots to help. Never seen snow or real rain. Except on the feed."

Stratton chuckled and it echoed against his helmet. "My dad had this film he loved when I was a kid. It was made on Earth, and it was about these great beasts— cows— that roamed around on huge plains— like this, actually. And these men would watch them, guard them from other men. And that's all they did, every day. They sat on the back of a different animal— horses. They're too big for the zoology labs. They don't let them reach maturity during cloning. Have you ever seen a picture of a horse, Emery?"

She shook her head. "I've read about them, but no, I never was much for Earth films. I thought they might disappoint me, ruin what I imagined it looked like."

"Oh, not horses— horses are fast and strong and graceful. The men would sit on their backs and follow the cows over these huge stretches. And sometimes the horses would run. Forever, Emery, they could run forever. No ship walls, no steel decks, just— just this." He spread a hand toward the plain. "The sound on the Earth films isn't as good as ours are, but when the horses ran, it sounded like your heart in the middle of a crash simulator. Thumping and thumping. I want to belong to a horse, Emery."

"I think it's the other way around, Captain. At least, that's what the books say. But never mind. You're excited about this place?"

He turned to her in shock, fumbling with the wheel and snapping his head back to the terrain ahead as they hit a bump. "You aren't?" he asked, "There's plants, life. We saw an animal— a living spiny thing. A real living thing. How can you not be excited?"

"It's very early. I want to be excited, but..."

Stratton sighed. "You're right, it is very early. I shouldn't get my hopes up." He fell silent and Emery felt slightly guilty for squelching his mood. "You haven't been on as many flights as I have, Emery. I'm not a fresh pilot anymore. I've been on over a hundred resource missions. You know what we see on those? Rock. If we're lucky, ice. Rock and ice and empty. So, so empty. Sometimes, on the big runs, there's other ships, a little chatter over the feed. A nearby light if your sectors happen to be close. But mostly— mostly there's nothing. Just dark and silence and your own tiny container of people. It's boring. And sad. After a while, you start thinking, maybe that's it. That maybe your whole life is just rock and ice and quiet. It was for our parents. And theirs. And everyone for hundreds of years. So when you get a shot at a planetary mission, you think, 'why would this be any different? Just more sterile rock.' Because why should I be special? Why should this time be the one? Just a pilot on an endless flight. But this— Emery, whatever happens, this is not more empty. Even if we can't stay, it's something. Some fixed point in this endless dark. It's early, yes, but it's already different from everything I've ever seen."

"Or anyone else has seen. Since Earth." The Captain's enthusiasm was infectious, and Rebecca felt more optimistic than she had in days. Maybe this was a real possibility. Maybe just seeing it— just getting to breathe the free air for a few days or months was worth the risk. She thought her father might think it was. The chance to go beyond the small circuit of hallways and decks that encompassed them. She looked around with a new wonder as Stratton steered the buggy toward the soft bank of the river. He pulled to a stop and Rebecca got out, kneeling at the side of the water.

It moved in great pulses. She could hear the rush and gurgle even through the helmet. She reached out a hand, knowing she wouldn't be able to feel it through the glove, not really, but wanting to try.

Stratton pulled on her arm. "No, Emery, not yet. Not until we make sure it really is water. We don't know what kind of chemicals or organisms could be in there yet."

"But we have the suits—"

"Which are decent protection against everything we've encountered, but this place is new. There might be something in there that can eat right through the suits."

Rebecca nodded. Stratton handed her a sampler. "So let's let the tools touch it first. Just in case."

She opened the bulky case and began setting up her station. "Sorry. I just— I've never seen it move like that before. And what does it feel like out in the open? Is it warm? Does it taste like the Keseburg's water? Are there fish, like in the labs?" She laughed. "Can I really get my feet wet to catch them?"

Stratton squeezed her shoulder. "This time next year, maybe we'll be swimming in it. But for now, we have to make sure it's safe. I need to do a filament check on the others, you have this covered?"

"Yeah, I'll be careful." She flipped off the audio feed so that she could concentrate and Stratton walked a few paces away to contact the rest of the crew. The robotic arm extended its hose and she adjusted it until it sunk a few inches into the flowing water. She let it cycle through the sampling program and stared into the riverbed. Stones and tiny wavering plants and tiny darting shadows. Something was living in it. The equipment beeped and she carefully packed the sample jars into the padded case. Another set racked and Rebecca re-adjusted the arm, aiming for the silt at the edge of the bank. Stratton had moved to the buggy, scrolling through the radar readout. He was speaking with Hackford. The equipment chugged and whined before buzzing harshly and stalling.

"Flaming core," she swore, retracting the hose. Something was jammed into the end, sucked up with the silt. It glinted as she moved the arm. "What is that?"

"Problem, Emery?"

"I'm not— can you hand me the tool kit? I need the tweezers."

Stratton crouched down beside her, handing her the tool. "Is it a rock?"

Rebecca shook her head and squinted into the hose. "It's— it might be, but it looks— shaped. Circular. I think." She pulled gently on the object. It wiggled and a clod of mud dribbled out. "Metal, maybe? But that would mean—" She pulled a little harder, excited and nervous. The object slid slowly out. She winced as she felt it scrape along the silt on the sides of the hose. It had to stay undamaged. She rinsed it in the shallow water at the bank, careful not to let the tweezers lose their grip. She placed it on the moss between them and stared down at it. Stratton's helmet clunked into hers as he tried to look.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

She didn't even realize he'd spoken. The piece shone in the sun. A spiral of flattened metal, still showing tool marks in its edges. Rebecca turned it with the tweezers, angling it to inspect what she thought were a series of small nicks. Instead, she found they were fattened, collapsed "T" shapes descending from the peak in pairs. "Birds," she muttered.

"What?" Stratton twisted his head to see the piece more clearly.

"They look like birds. When they're flying overhead."

"You mean— something made those marks on purpose? Could it just be erosion? We don't know how long it's been sitting in the river."

Rebecca shook her head. "These marks are precise and deep. If it were erosion they'd be softer, they'd be sloped. These were cut. I mean, we'll run it through the scope to be certain, but this is definitely not a wear pattern. And the metal— this isn't naturally occurring. Not in this shape. Captain— something was here."
9

"Uh— it's noticed the specimens," said Spixworth, crouching near the tank. "Thought you were going to tag it and release it back, Martham."

Martham glanced over at the rodent, which scrabbled against the side of the tank. "Not done with the preliminary tests," she said and turned back to her station.

Spixworth shook his head. "I didn't think it was possible, but you've managed it somehow. I mean, sure, Emery's a little hesitant about what's going to happen if we settle here and Oxwell is nervous about us making an irreversible mess— but at least they're passionate. You, Martham, are the only person I know who can be bored on an entirely new planet."

Alice snorted a laugh and then clamped her lips shut. Spixworth turned to grin at her.

"I'm not bored, Nicholas, just focused. Something your work could benefit from having more of." She turned back to her equipment.

"I'm plenty focused. Collected almost forty specimens today and I think Blick and I have identified food sources for at least five." He pushed a container of broad leaves toward the other tank. Something dark and shiny scuttled over the leaves as Oxwell watched. The rodent scratched at the side of the tank with renewed vigor.

"I think it's hungry," said Oxwell. She knelt beside Spixworth.

"We should name it," he said. Martham barked a laugh. "What? I name my guys. Otherwise, we'll have a lab full of 'its.' Could get confusing. We should name it, for science's sake."

"If we're going to start naming things, then we have to establish a taxonomy—"

"Galactic Void, Martham! I'm talking about a nickname not categorizing species."

She shook her head and ignored him.

"What were you thinking?" Alice asked him. "Spot maybe?"

Spixworth laughed. "Spot? No, no. This is a momentous occasion. First nickname on a new planet. We can't be lazy. Besides, looks more like a Spike to me."

Alice rolled her eyes but grinned.

"Seriously, Martham, Spike looks hungry. I have plenty of specimens, and I found a nest of these particular spider-beetley things. Official taxonomy naming there." He opened the container.

Martham spun around. "We don't know anything about what it eats. I haven't finished the tooth analysis yet, I'm not even certain whether it's trying to go for the leaves or the insects yet. That may be poisonous to it, or the insect may be a predator—"

"You can't let it starve," said Alice.

"It's only been in there a few hours. And even if it does, it could be useful to know how long they survive without food and what the death process is."

"Seems cruel." Spixworth frowned and closed the container again, moving it farther from the rodent so that it would calm down.

"It isn't a pet," said Martham, "which is why naming it is a bad idea." She sighed. "But if it makes you feel better, I will be releasing it with the camera in the morning. We need to see if there are more of them and where."

"Hear that, Spike? You'll be sprung in no time." Spixworth put his glove to the glass where the animal sniffed and scratched at it. He turned back to his own station and sat down beside his sample. He pulled the beetles over the inset camera on the counter. "You guys ready for your closeups? Alice— do you want swabs or are you overwhelmed yet?" He pulled the broad leaves carefully from the container, setting them aside in a lab tray. He'd have to remember to take photos for bite analysis afterward. Alice hovered nearby.

"I'll take some, let me set up a rack though, or I'll never keep them organized. Blick's already dropped off several dozen and Rebecca is supposed to be bringing me the water samples." She paused to watch Spixworth gently push one of the beetles onto its back so he could spread the elytra. "Why are they all so much bigger than the ones in your lab?" she asked.

"Hey, getting kind of personal there, aren't you? My guys are just fine."

Alice shook her head with a laugh.

Spixworth pushed the light to another angle. "I'm not certain what made the Earthlings pick the specimens that they did. Maybe they were smaller than average. Or maybe it had something to do with conditions there. Gravity, food, oxygen, predators— it is all different here. For all we know, we're staring at the dominant species."

"Do you ever work from a factually based hypothesis Spixworth?" asked Martham without turning around, "Or do you just indulge every fantastic fairytale that enters your brain?"

Spixworth frowned and fell silent, returning to his work. Alice was upset to see his excitement so dampened. "Come on, Beatrice," she said, "aren't you a little in awe of this place? Nicholas just wants to keep an open mind."

Martham shook her head. "There's such a thing as being too open, Oxwell. Keep your minds on the task. We're here to collect data, not daydream up new evolutionary theory. Stick with the facts. Stick with the observations. Work within the rules of logic."

Spixworth caught Alice's eye and puffed out a silent breath of exasperation. Alice grinned. The feed beeped.

"Oxwell, status," Stratton's voice was easier, calmer than it had been before he'd left with Rebecca.

"The lab is up, we've started gathering specimens. Blick is still in the field, but Spixworth and Martham are here with me."

"What about Titov and Hackford?"

"Titov just finished cleaning his suit. He's on his way out, he's expecting your water samples. Hackford— I don't know about Hackford. Did you check the Wolfinger?" asked Alice.

"I'll check in there next. I want you all back aboard before sundown. Liu estimates three hours."

"Yes, Captain," said Alice.
10

"C'mon Dorothy, I need you to check out these radargrams. I have what might be an underground structure on the far side of the river but I need confirmation." Rebecca waited for a response from beyond the smooth, white door. "You don't even have to leave the ship. I can bring the reports to you—"

"Yes she does," said Captain Stratton. "We all have our jobs to do. And it's time for Hackford to start doing hers." He raised his voice to be heard through the door. "Twenty-four slots, Dorothy, that's all there were, and you got one. This doesn't even happen once a lifetime. Don't waste it."

He was met with silence. "I fought for you, Dorothy. Bruheim said your evals were borderline, but I said you were the best geologist on the Keseburg and I wanted you on my crew."

There was no response and Stratton began to lose patience. He pounded on the door with his fist. "Now, Hackford. Or you'll be facing court-martial when we return. "

"I think she's really frightened, Captain," murmured Rebecca. "I don't think she means to disrespect—"

The door slid open. Dorothy Hackford was a drooping, weeping mess. The red puff of her eyes sagged into heavy wrinkles of exhaustion. Rebecca thought she'd aged ten years in the past day.

"It's not so bad out there, I promise," she offered.

Dorothy didn't seem to hear her, just stumbled out of the cargo hold, halfway into her suit, empty arms trailing behind her. "Let me see the reports," she mumbled.

Rebecca handed the printout to her and Dorothy flipped through it, rubbing her eyes with one palm. Captain Stratton watched her grimly, arms crossed over his chest.

"Emery, go get Dr. Cardiff," he said. "Tell her that Hackford is getting ready to begin her field duties and we will need her assistance."

Dorothy exchanged a panicked glance with her, but Rebecca just confirmed the order. "Yes, sir."

She hoped the odd curves on the radargram would distract Dorothy enough for her to overcome her panic, but in the end, it took both Dr. Cardiff and herself to finish dressing the woman and all but pushing her down the airlock's exterior ladder.

Dorothy stood at the bottom of the ladder on the dirt, sobbing and motionless.

"You have to calm down, Dorothy," pleaded Rebecca. "Concentrate on the pages. Tell me what we're seeing." The radargram fluttered in a passing breeze and Dorothy dropped it as if it had scalded her. Rebecca sprinted clumsily to catch the pages.

"Look at me Hackford," the doctor was saying behind her, "focus on what's actually happening, not what you are afraid will happen. You're safe. We're just at the bottom of the ladder. Here, touch it—"

Rebecca returned just as Dr. Cardiff was placing Dorothy's arm on the metal ladder. "There, now take a deep breath—"

Rebecca could hear Hackford gasping in her helmet. "Can't— breathe—"

"You can, slow down. It's the same air—" started the doctor but then Dorothy grabbed at her helmet, reaching for the clasps.

"Have to get out."

"No!" cried Dr. Cardiff reaching to stop her. "Don't take it off!"

The two grappled with a clasp for a moment, before the doctor yelled for Rebecca to help. "Have to get out!" Dorothy screamed, flailing at the two women holding her.

"Get her up the ladder, inside," said the doctor, trying to yank her up the metal rungs.

Rebecca wrapped her arms around Dorothy, the slick plastic of their suits making her slide loose. She tried to push her up the ladder, but it was too late. Dorothy unclasped her helmet and twisted it off. It tumbled over Rebecca's own helmet and down her back onto the alien soil.

"Soil and Rain," swore Dr. Cardiff.

Dorothy just gasped.

"Get her in the airlock."

Rebecca shook her head and let go of Dorothy. She bent and picked up the helmet. "We can't. You know the procedure." She pulled a bottle of disinfectant from her pocket and sprayed the ring and interior of the helmet.

"We don't even know if it's breathable air!" shouted the doctor.

Rebecca calmly swiped the helmet with a soft cloth and then twisted back over Dorothy's head, turning the clasps. "Oxwell and Titov finished their tests last night. It's breathable, but we don't know if there are harmful microbes—"

"So what, you want to just leave her out here to have a panic attack?"

Hackford sunk slowly onto her knees, still gasping, making herself as small as possible, pressing herself against the familiar metal rungs of the ladder.

"We have to report it as an exposure," said Rebecca. "We can't let her back into the ship until she's been cleared."

Dorothy had recovered her breath enough to begin screaming.

"We can't leave her like this— the stress, if she has any abnormality in her heart or her brain—" Dr. Cardiff shouted over Dorothy.

Captain Stratton's voice broke through on their filaments. "Everyone back to the ship. We've had an exposure. I need everyone back with their samples. Now."

"Captain, what about Hackford?" Dr. Cardiff asked.

"You know the procedure."

"She won't last seventy-two hours like this. Not alone, certainly."

"We can take shifts and stay with her," said Rebecca.

Dr. Cardiff shook her head. Dorothy continued to scream.

"Can't you give her something?" Rebecca asked.

"No," said Stratton, "Not until the tests are finished. We don't know how a sedative might react with whatever she's been exposed to."

"This is cruel and unnec—" Cardiff said, starting up the ladder.

"Don't tell me what's unnecessary on my ship!" shouted Stratton. "It's my job to keep the crew safe. And that's what I'm doing. If you have a problem with it, take it up with the Admiral when we get home."

Cardiff climbed back into the ship, her face twisted with anger, ready to fight. Rebecca knelt next to Dorothy, one arm around the screaming woman's shoulder. The radargram flapped under Rebecca's knee. She watched the small buggy appear at the end of the landing zone and rattle toward the ship. The five scientists were unreadable in their clean plastic suits, the strange orange sun reflecting off their helmets so that their faces were invisible. Rebecca waited until they climbed past her and into the airlock before curling around Dorothy. She covered the sides of Dorothy's helmet with her arms, making a dark, close shell. The woman finally stopped screaming and Rebecca pressed her own helmet against the other looking in. All she could hear was Dorothy's ragged breath. At least she was still alive.

"Better?" she asked.

"A— little. Don't move your arms. The sky— it's so pale and terrible, so far away—"

"We should never have come here," said Rebecca softly. "We don't belong here. We're meant to be out there. Safe."

Dorothy sobbed. "Don't say that. I just got scared. I just needed a little more time to get used to the idea. But don't say that we shouldn't be here." Her glove scraped against the gravel and she picked up a small stone. "I don't know what's going to happen Emery, but I didn't expect this. This is the first non-mined rock I've held in my entire life. I don't even know if I'd recognize a natural stratification from an artificial one anyway. Somebody meant for us to find a planet. Our parents, their parents, somebody way back on Earth meant for us to land here. Otherwise, why keep training us like this? Why bother with geologists and entomologists? Why did you study anthropology? Because we thought we'd find somewhere. Because we thought we could learn to adapt to another place, another society. We're dying up there, Emery. Can't you see? This planet's going to kill me because I couldn't keep my head. Because I'll go nuts if I lift up my head and see all the room around me without people, without ship walls. We've forgotten what makes us human. We've forgotten how to overcome. Whatever happens— the Keseburg needs this place, or one like it. And we need it soon." Dorothy curled the stone in her hand and brought it to her chest, still hiding her face from the outside.

Leroux finally emerged from the ship with the medical supplies, followed by Titov and Alice carrying the portable lab. "Oxwell," she said, "Help me get the isolation chamber up."

Alice and Titov unpacked the kit. A flap of loose plastic went up and began closing them in. Dorothy lifted her head and her breathing slowed as the translucent material made the world around them a jumble of bright colors without shape or meaning. "Thanks for staying Emery," she said. She held out a hand. "I'll take a look at that radargram now."

Rebecca nodded and handed it to her. Leroux and Oxwell rolled a metal cot into the small plastic room, unfolding a plastic floor covering and beginning to seal it. Rebecca left to give them more room. She slowly climbed the ladder into the ship and went through decontamination. It was early in the day, but nobody seemed in the mood to continue working. She flipped through the photos of the lake site on her filament feed half-heartedly. She traced the rough lines with her eye and then shook her head. It wasn't going to be structures. They never were. Not in all those hundreds of years. Titov would tell her the metal piece was just a fluke, just some natural formation that her mind insisted was special and significant. They were just so desperate not to be totally alone. One solitary ship of life limping through space. She closed her eyes.

"We're dying up there, Emery. Can't you see?" Dorothy's voice echoed in her head.

Maybe that was okay. Maybe it was right that they dwindle, peter out. Maybe sentient life was the anomaly, not the rule. In all these years, in all these generations they'd never found a hospitable planet. Spixworth had been incredulous, but Rebecca was starting to wonder. If life like ours is so normal, we ought to have found it somewhere. We ought to have colonies from here to Earth, she thought. Instead, Dorothy was sitting in a claustrophobic plastic bag, waiting to see if she'd die. Just for thirty seconds of unfiltered air. 
11

"There we go." Titov adjusted the small photo frame next to the cot where Hackford sat. "Brought you dinner too." He unzipped his suit pocket and pulled out a foil packet and a small flask. "Corn and bean mash," he made a face and handed it to her. "And—"

"Cosmic glug?" asked Hackford.

"Shhhh. Don't want Leroux to hear," he said.

"I'm right here," said Leroux without looking up from the reports on her feed.

"Is it— okay?" asked Hackford. Leroux glanced over and snorted.

"That's it?"

"It's all she needs," said Titov.

"Not if it's as weak as your last batch," laughed Leroux. "It's fine Dorothy. Just— don't tell the captain. And eat." She went back to the reports.

Titov bounced his knees nervously.

"Tell me about outside," said Hackford. "I didn't really— I couldn't look."

"Well, I mostly took air and soil samples today, but only nearby. The field lab's set up on a nice grassy area. There's a river on one side. Emery took some water samples. I think she picked up some stones for you too. Oh—" He fumbled in his pocket for a moment. "I almost forgot. Sorry— everything happened so fast today." He pulled out a small glass case. "Emery found this in her samples. She wants to know if it's natural." He handed it to her and she squinted at it. It glinted and she clicked her feed to magnify her view.

"You do a chemical analysis yet?" she asked.

"Gold and copper alloy. It's seen heat, but—" he shrugged. "Lightning strike? Volcano? Your area, not mine."

She twisted the container to examine it. "I don't think so. Where did she find it?"

"River bank. She said she didn't think the indents were erosion, but wanted to check with you. I don't know how it would make that shape though."

Hackford shook her head. "Those aren't like any erosion marks I've seen. She sent me some radargrams..." She trailed off, calling up documents on her feed. Titov patted her knee.

"Well, now that I've given you a mystery to occupy yourself, I need to go make a video log for Peter. I promised."

Hackford smiled. "Thanks, Andrei. I really needed a visit."

"Don't mind me," sighed Leroux, "I'm apparently just corn and bean mash."

"You didn't bring her glug. Gets the ladies every time."

Leroux wrinkled her nose. "Blech. It's practically dishwater. You have any more?"

Titov laughed. "Captain Stratton's got the last of the stash. Unless Blick finds some alien fruit, that's it until we get back."

"I think— tell Emery I want to keep this for now," murmured Hackford. "I'll— I'll call her in a while."

"You find something?"

"Something. But I don't know what yet," said Hackford.

"Emery, wake up." Rebecca shifted on the narrow bunk and pulled the thin blanket back over her shoulder. "Emery, are you up? It's important."

Rebecca sighed and reached a heavy hand up to the media filament. "Yeah— I'm here. What's going on?"

"The radargram you gave me— did you calibrate the equipment first?"

She rubbed her eyes. "Yes, Captain Stratton did a systems check just outside, and then we did another when we reached the valley while the others were setting up the field lab."

"Is there more data? Did you file it in another place?"

"No— you have a printout of everything. At least, not radar data. We found a piece of metal near the river, but it was loose. I thought it might be shaped, but for all I know, it develops that way here. You can see the pictures on the feed."

"No need. Titov left it with me this afternoon. Looking at it right now."

"Ah," Rebecca yawned. "I wanted to get more from the radar, but Captain Stratton didn't want to go beyond the landing sector just yet, unless we had a good reason."

"I think we have a good reason, Emery."

"What's going on? I was able to make out some underground pockets but you know I'm rubbish at interpreting those things."

"I'm not certain, but I don't think they're just pockets. They're too large and too regular to be natural caverns. The only other thing I can think is that they are some kind of volcanic vent, but the surrounding material isn't right."

"Maybe it would be different here."

"It shouldn't be. The elemental makeup is very similar to records of Earth. Other things may be different— the plants, that spiky animal you found— the microbes. But the bones should be about the same. No, I don't think we're looking at a volcano. I think they might be tunnels. Really big tunnels."

"Could it be the river? Some underground tributary?"

There was a pause. "I don't know. It's possible, but water wear is often oddly shaped. It follows the path of least resistance. If it were water, it should be bumpy or winding. But this— they look almost regular. Same size, same shape, smooth lines. And there's something else. It's hard to tell from just the radar, but they go pretty deep, deeper than the range of our equipment. Maybe deeper than the water table. That doesn't happen, at least, not without some kind of mechanism to keep the water from flooding them."

She swung her legs over the side of the bunk. "So we're looking for, what? Giant moles? Snakes? Rabbits?"

"I— I don't know. I'm not an expert, you'll have to show Martham. I don't think we're going to be sure without going down there. Where did you find the metal piece?"

"I was taking silt samples on the riverbank and it got sucked into the hose. It looks— shaped. But Captain Stratton and I searched the area for hours and didn't see anything else. Of course, that doesn't mean it isn't there, just that I need more time and equipment to find it. But the Hardcoop didn't send back anything that would lead me to expect any kind of settlements. No structures, no electrical traces, no dams or large collections of metal."

"What if it was all underground? Could the Hardcoop find it?"

"I suppose small settlements wouldn't show up, but there would still be signs. Where would they put their waste products? I would expect some kind of water system or food production would be on the surface."

"You're assuming that they would eat the same things we do and process it the same way."

"And you're assuming a single piece of metal and a hole in the ground means advanced society."

"I'm not assuming anything, Emery. I'm just intrigued. If there were someone here, maybe they could help. Maybe we wouldn't be so alone. And— and you've been kind to me. I want to see something good happen for you. I don't want the others to question your value anymore. Would it be so bad if there were others here?"

Rebecca reached for her uniform. "For them or for us?" she asked. "I don't think there are many people who would assume that whoever was here would be friendly and willing to help us. And I think most of the people on Keseburg would say they didn't care and try to settle here anyway, regardless of what it meant for whoever was already here. We're just desperate enough to try and just equipped enough to do some real damage. Yes, Dorothy, I think it will be very bad if there are others here."

Hackford was silent for a moment. "Do— do you want me to forget about it? Tell the Captain it's just a natural cavern?"

"No— we have to know. We can't just pretend it isn't there, especially if it turns out to be something man— uh, alien-made. Later settlement research would find it anyway." She sighed. "Right now, we're small. Just a curiosity. A few lost souls wandering around a foreign place. If there is someone here, we probably won't appear to be a threat. Strange, yes. Scary even. But not really a threat. Once we are here in larger numbers though..."

She stood up and started dressing. "You want some company out there?"

"Leroux is out here with me. She's sleeping in her suit. I tried to get her to go to bed, but she refused. Maybe if you took her place for a bit?"

"Wake her up and send her in. I'm getting dressed now. I want to see what you're looking at." She slid a leg into her plastic suit and fought another yawn. She checked the seals after sliding the other leg in and pushed an arm into the top of the jumpsuit.

"You ever read novels, Emery?"

"Sure, I like the ones that have love stories."

"What about the space ones?"

She laughed and slowly sealed the front of her suit. "Those? They are so old-fashioned and unrealistic. Some of them have people zipping around space like magic. They make me think the Earthlings believed we'd have made it this far within a year or two."

"Yeah, they're hokey, sure. And a little naive. But they didn't know any better. And behind the magic technology and the weird speech patterns, there are decent stories. I always liked the space ones. Especially the ones where aliens came to Earth."

Rebecca tugged on a boot. "Wish they would have done it for real, would have made our lives much easier."

"Not according to the Earthlings. It was always bad when the aliens came. Well— almost always. They always wanted to destroy the humans, take the planet for themselves. Or use us as slaves or food or whatever. Or even just— they'd study us, do experiments. It was always bad."

She began walking toward the equipment lock. "Makes sense, I guess. Colonization has a pretty brutal history on Earth. It would be normal for people to fear it."

"You know that animal you found this morning? That porcupine thing?"

"Sure. But I think it found me."

"Martham's got it in a glass tank and won't feed it. She says she'll release it in the morning. But there will be more. Other things in tanks. Oxwell will have to expose them to things, to see if we can live together. Someday someone's going to try killing and eating one."

"Yes."

"Rebecca— we're the aliens. We're the colonizers. We're the bad thing that's going to happen to this planet."

She twisted the helmet on and pressed the airlock button. "I know," she yelled through the hissing. The door slid open and the dark planet lay before her. She paused for a moment at this first glimpse of natural night. One that would end, unlike all the others in her life on the Keseburg. What would a sunrise be like? She turned to face the ladder and climbed down. "Martham would tell you that there is always some violence when two or more organisms compete for the same niche. In some ways, it's the natural order. Organisms evolve to share those resources, or one of them dies out. Are we so different from an invasive species back on Earth? Are we just one of Blick's dandelion puffs blowing across a million miles to find better soil?" She backed away from the base of the ladder a few paces, looking at the Wolfinger's dingy hulk. "Or are we something worse?"

"Flaming core, you two are depressing." Spixworth's voice floated over the feed.

"Sorry, Nick, didn't know anyone else was up," said Rebecca with a smile.

"Someone's got to babysit Spike and the rest. Trying to see if any of the specimens are nocturnal. Didn't think I'd need a stiff drink for that until you two got into it. I can understand you, Dorothy, nothing to do all day except stare at plastic sheeting. And not in a sexy way either. But Rebecca— cheer the hell up."

She smiled and walked to the isolation chamber entrance. She closed herself in and waited for the decontamination spray to dry from her helmet before opening the interior door.

"You know why those novels are important, Dorothy? And why Rebecca thinks they're old fashioned and naive? Because we outgrew them. They taught us, and we surpassed them. We aren't cowering in the shadows anymore. And we know better than to blunder our way into someone else's home."

Rebecca frowned and sat down beside Hackford. "Do we?"

Spixworth sighed. "The fact that we're here the way we are, that we're having this conversation— that we're even worried about it, would say that we do."

Leroux spoke sleepily over the feed. "We also might be beneficial— remember that not all species compete. Some rely on each other to survive. Maybe we'll help whatever's here. We need this place. Maybe it needs us, too. And— and even if we do harm— are our lives any less valuable than what's here already? We didn't come here to plunder. We came here just to survive. Even with all of the Keseburg, we are too small to do systemic damage. It will be generations before we become a real threat." She yawned. "Anyway, this is too heavy for the middle of the night. I'm going to sleep."

"Goodnight Joan," said Dorothy with a smile.

12

Liu sat on the dusty ground beside the communications panel.

"No, it isn't that one. We're getting closer, I got a burst from the Hardcoop but nothing clear. Try the next," said Al Jahi over the feed.

Liu toggled a button and the array hummed as it began to twist.

"Slow!" snapped Al Jahi.

He turned it off. "Sorry. I don't think it will go any slower unless I get up there and move it by hand."

"We may have to."

"Okay, give me a minute." He closed the panel and stood up, brushing his suit off.

"Thanks for doing this so early, Gang. I know you could be sleeping."

"Nah," he said, climbing up the handholds on the hull, "my sleep schedule is going to take a few days to catch up. It's almost noon on the Keseburg, isn't it?"

"Yeah, Noura would be done with morning session about now."

He reached the top of the ship. "Apologize to Titov for me, I think I'm about to stomp over his bunk." He shuffled over to the array, kneeling near the small crank. A gleam of rosy light caught the curve of his helmet and he turned his face toward the horizon. "Oh..." he breathed. "Chione, come out here. You've got to see this."

"Is something wrong?" asked Al Jahi.

"No— no, it's the sun. Is anyone else awake?"

"I'm still up. Barely. Oxwell's here too." said Spixworth. There was a pause and then a low whistle over the feed. "Now that— that's worth the trip."

Liu sank down onto the metal hull and sat to watch. The sliver of light intensified, the redness softening to a bright copper as more of it inched over the horizon.

"The clouds—" gasped Alice. "Like the edge of a nebula, but so close."

The airlock hissed and Liu heard Al Jahi on the ladder. He rose to help her up the side. "You ever see this on your other flights?" asked Spixworth.

"No," he said reaching down to haul Al Jahi up. "We were near asteroids. Either a nearby sun was always visible or we were too far and it was barely a glow. It looked like it does on the Keseburg. Not like this."

Al Jahi stood beside him staring at the rounded hump of the sun pushing its way into the sky. The dark fled, paling from purple to rose to an orange-gray. The others had fallen silent, but the planet around them began to wake. Small shadows darted over the dusty ground around the Wolfinger, night animals caught by the light.

Spixworth laughed. "You can't hear this, but Spike started— chirping. I can hear others in the field too."

"There are things moving over here too," said Al Jahi. "It isn't bright enough to see them yet, but this world— there's so much alive here."

"I thought it would be peaceful. That's what you see in the old movies. All that silence, like the world is holding its breath," said Oxwell, "but it's loud and busy."

The sun was lifting itself over the crest of the land, its lower rim coming into view. A deeper shadow passed over him and Liu looked up, startled. Something large, larger than him buzzed overhead and sped off.

"Did you see that?" He turned to Al Jahi.

"What was it?"

"I don't know. Bird? It was big. And it's headed your direction, Spixworth."

"A bird? We haven't seen a single one— nothing avian at all."

"Nick— maybe we shouldn't—" said Alice.

Liu flicked on the video feed and watched as Spixworth exited the field lab and turned his face toward the sky. "It's okay, Alice, I just want to get some video. How big is this thing, Liu?"

"Bigger than me. Like— Hardcoop size maybe? You aren't going to miss it if it gets close."

"Is it the Hardcoop?"

"No," said Al Jahi. "Liu and I have been tracking the Hardcoop all morning. That's what we were working on. It's in a low orbit right now, but nowhere near that low."

A sharp glint flickered over the video feed. "There, Spixworth— that's it!"

"Earth's holy ocean, would you look at that?" The glint grew to a shine and then a shape, long and thin with massive wings. There was a mechanical buzz as it zipped past and plunged just beyond the river. "It's landed! Come on Alice, let's go!"

"Are you crazy?" shouted Alice. "We aren't going anywhere except back to the Wolfinger to get the Captain."

"But it could be gone if we don't—"

"Yeah, or it could eat us or stomp us or something."

"It looked metal," said Liu. "I didn't get a great look, it was going too fast, but it looked artificial. Kind of sounded that way too."

"Maybe we should wake up Emery too," said Al Jahi.

"Where's your sense of adventure?" protested Spixworth.

"Firmly seated in my need for logical functioning," snapped Alice. "If that thing really is metal, then that means something built it. This is a level 3 incident at least, if not four. We'll be lucky not to join Hackford in quarantine, even with our suits. We aren't getting closer until we check with the Captain. We're going back."

Spixworth hesitated, his feed still broadcasting a scene of the river. "Now, Nick."

"Okay, okay," he said and turned to secure the lab.

"We'll get the crew up," said Al Jahi. "I think this will probably be a full meeting."

Liu helped her climb down, noticing her hand was shaking slightly. He wondered if she were excited or frightened. He wondered which one he was, too. 
13

"You can't be serious. This is possibly the most significant discovery in human history and you want to just let it sit there?" Rebecca was fuming.

Stratton folded his arms and stared at the dark well of the nest. "This isn't what we're here to do. Mission directives said to make contact if we encountered any life. That doesn't include investigating ruins. Look, Emery, it's falling apart. Nothing has been here in a long while."

"But that flying figure came this way," said Spixworth.

"Yes, and we ought to keep looking in the direction it headed to see if we can find out where it landed."

"How do we know it isn't here? Just because we aren't looking for ruins doesn't mean whatever that thing was isn't interested," said Rebecca.

"We saw thirty seconds of movement on the feed and you're attaching motivation to it?"

"I'm keeping an open mind." Rebecca sighed in frustration. "Listen, Captain, if we don't investigate this place now, the Admiral will just send another mission to do it after us. We can't settle here without knowing who else is here. Or was. And why they aren't here now. It could push settlement out by several months. A year maybe."

"We don't have a year. Our kids don't have a year. Not for the sake of some ruin," said Titov, forgetting his helmet was on as he raised a hand to scrape it down his face.

"All the more reason to do this by the book," said Stratton. "If we make a mistake—"

"Captain," said Liu, "Spindling aside— we both know the Keseburg can't afford another outlay like this unless we intend to settle. Not in our lifetime. We're here. We have the best resources the ship can spare. We won't get another chance."

"So we should be spending those resources on activities that will make the most difference. I can't pull everyone from their research just to explore a derelict cavern."

"Then let Emery go. She isn't doing anything useful. It'll keep her out of the way at least," sneered Martham.

Rebecca wanted to tell her not to help.

"I'll go with her," said Liu. "Pilot's no good on a landed ship anyway, and Al Jahi and I both know that the interference is too heavy to get the link with the Hardcoop to actually work. We're just wasting time."

"The lab is running a large batch of samples," said Titov, "They won't be ready until tomorrow. And if it helps Peter get here quicker, I'll do anything. Besides, Hackford would want some data for her research and she's still got a day in quarantine."

Stratton hesitated, concentrating hard on the shadowy opening below them. "You have one day, Emery," he said at last. "Make an initial survey. If you don't find anything of immediate use, then we have other work to get back to. But at least it'll satisfy the Admiral."

"Yes, Captain," said Rebecca. Her tone was flat, but a sizzle of energy burst through her.

"Emery," he said, catching her arm as she turned to retrieve their equipment, "A cure for Spindling, a living, intelligent creature, or something that would kill us all. That's it. Anything else will have to wait. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"I vote we steer clear of whatever would kill us all," said Spixworth.

Liu laughed. "Yeah, I like the other options better."

"Titov, Liu, you're with Emery. The rest of you have projects to complete. Keep your feeds on and if you do find something, for Earth's sake, follow protocol." The Captain corralled the others away from the nest and back toward the river. Rebecca looked at Liu and Titov.

"Ready?" she asked.

Liu switched his helmet light on. "Not sure how much use I'll be underground instead of in the air, but I'll do my best."

Titov anchored a guide beacon and set its ping. "Let's go find some intelligent life." His voice dropped to a low murmur. "Maybe we can replace Martham," he said with a grin.

A long, sloping ramp of packed earth spiraled down into the hole. Portions had slumped or were riddled with deep grooves where slim rivulets of rainwater had made branching paths. There was no rail and the ramp was slender, even in the places where it was whole.

"Whoever made this must have been really small. Or really graceful," said Liu, clutching at the dirt wall as he sidled sideways past a hole in the ramp.

"Maybe it was for defense," said Rebecca. "A bottleneck to protect whatever is underneath from being overrun."

"I don't think it worked." Titov jumped back as the side of the ramp slid away under one foot. Liu caught him.

"Don't assume anything yet. This could just have been a temporary entrance or one that isn't used anymore. There could be a bustling city underneath us."

"I don't know, Emery," said Liu, picking his way forward after her, "A city that pays no attention to what's happening above? We landed not even three miles away. Anything on the surface must have seen us this close."

Rebecca shrugged. "We haven't seen anything on the surface. Maybe it's like the ocean was to Earthlings. Barely explored with massive ecosystems untouched by whatever is down here. Maybe that's why this ramp is so—" she leaped over a gap and turned to reach a hand back to Liu, "temporary. The only people that used it were scientists and explorers."

"Madmen like us," laughed Titov, springing past the hole. The light from above was receding as the path curled around on itself, the spiral tightening.

They fell silent, concentrating on the uneven ramp as the darkness took hold and their vision shrank to the three sharp rounds of light their helmets made. Emery could hear her own breathing, harsh and deep. It irritated her. The fabric of her suit lining felt too tight and damp. She tried to hang on to her excitement and push aside the discomfort.

"We should have brought Hackford here first," muttered Titov. "Feels more like home. You've got walls around you instead of all that massive space with no edge."

Rebecca stumbled and reached to steady herself on the wall, instead falling into open air. She grunted as her shoulder slammed into hard packed earth. Jagged lumps stabbed into her arm and hip. "Ow."

Liu helped her up. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just— there's a tunnel here."

"Check your suit," said Titov, flooding her eyes with the light from his helmet. She squinted and held up an arm. He didn't stop to apologize but pushed her carefully back into the side tunnel, gripping her arm and then her leg as he checked for tears. Titov blew out a shaky breath a moment later. "You're safe. Just a scuff on your shoulder but it didn't rupture."

"Just— relax, Titov. Hackford's fine. Leroux said her tests—"

"Hackford's locked up in a plastic box. She's scared witless. She's not fine. And she was exposed up there. Not down here. For all we know whatever lived here died of some horrible plague. We have to be careful."

Liu held up his hands in surrender. But it seemed to make Titov angry. He rounded on Liu. "You don't get it. None of you, except maybe Al Jahi. You don't have kids. The next gen is a distant concern. Something vague to worry about and chew over in Zachary's with your neighbor. Like next year's cloth production or how much fresh food has gone up at the market. Well, it's not to me. I have Peter. Chione has Dia and Noura. We obsess about Spindling. About how many more months the Keseburg's going to keep moving. About what's going to happen to us. This is it, this is my only chance to save Peter. It's not about if we can make a sustainable life here. It's not about if we're going to ruin some space porcupine's life or kill off some insects with pesticide so we can grow food. I don't care. You understand? It's about my son. Even if it costs this planet a species— it's my son." Titov paused for a deep breath and carefully brushed some grit from Rebecca's sleeve. "So. We are not bringing anything infectious back to the Wolfinger. Or the Keseburg. Or the surface at all. We're going to be careful. We're going to find Emery's dead aliens and hopefully something useful. And we're going to tell the Admiral that the planet is safe and that we should begin settlement as soon as possible. That's what we're down here for. So there are no questions and no long, drawn out surveys because of some sink hole. Peter doesn't have that much time. Dia doesn't have that much time. And several dozen others who are just a statistic to people like you."

"They aren't—" started Liu.

"Let's go," growled Titov. "This way, the ramp is too dangerous." He pointed down the tunnel and headed off.

"What is it that I said?" whispered Liu into a private channel.

Rebecca shook her head. "It isn't you. The medical team says the mobility suits are failing. Without a cure, Peter would be on a lung machine within five years. And after that..."

"Soil and Rain," sighed Liu. He trudged after Titov and Rebecca followed them. 
14

Issk'ath had returned to the nest. What it needed for travel had not been in its original build. But Issk'ath knew what it required was inside the eroding chambers. It skittered down the ramps into the deepest chambers, back through its memory to the place where it had been constructed. The nest's lower levels were damp. The water table had risen without the colony's constant use, and corrosion had made brittle, ruddy lace of the still machinery that had made the colony what it was. No light reached this place, except for the golden glow that streaked over Iss'kath's chassis in slim threads and defined its optical sensors. Issk'ath did not need light to avoid the fallen debris or the long abandoned warrens of small animals that had sought shelter in the abandoned tunnels. It had other senses. Many. And unfailing memories of the nest. Not only its own memories, but those of the colony collected within. Everything was too familiar, too known. Iterated.

But there was something novel, an unfamiliar sensation that waited for Issk'ath down in the dark. It wanted. For the first time, it craved something. It was not a directive, it was not a programmed impulse embedded from the outside. It yearned for something wholly for its own sake, not the colony's. Not the planet's. Just for itself, just for Issk'ath.

The entrance to the industrial chambers had collapsed, the way forward blocked by dirt and stone. Issk'ath was not built for heavy lifting. It would have to retreat and find one of the colony's diggers. It scanned the crumbling metal figures around it and calculated the chance of finding one that needed only minor repair. It picked its way back toward the ramp, its angular head swiveling as it scanned the dark, seeking aid many seasons too late.

Issk'ath's tympana vibrated. Falling rock, scrabbling. Another animal perhaps. Issk'ath ignored it until a different noise reached it. An animal call. But not familiar. It came again, different this time, the tones pulsing in different sequences. The sound came from above. Something was in the nest. Something new. Issk'ath abandoned the silent diggers in favor of waiting to see if the creature would come closer. It remained still, unwilling to frighten it away.

More sounds, another animal, but the same patterns. They began to recede, rhythmic thumps vibrating off the dirt. Small, light. Was it a Takesh? Issk'ath had learned about the Takesh. About the war. But the last of them had expired long before Issk'ath was built. Had they returned? Did that mean the colony would someday come back? It crept up the base of the ramp, pausing at the entrance of each tunnel, waiting for some pulse to strike its tympana. Not in the Queen's chambers. Nor the hatchery or larder. Issk'ath passed the Grand Gallery and the armory. It paused at the nursery, waiting. It could not feel the vibrations, but the animals could have moved too far into the interior. It hovered, undecided.

The directive was to protect the colony. The colony was not the nest. What did Issk'ath care if something burrowed into the empty corridors or stole what remained? The colony would never use it again. And the animals might be dangerous. They might attack Issk'ath if they were cornered. It was not fragile, but the colony thrummed inside it. All the memories held in its chassis. Damage would not be optimal. It didn't need anything in the nursery. The animals could take what they wanted and never even know it was there. They would not find what Issk'ath needed, it was buried deep under the rubble of the industrial chambers. It passed swiftly up the ramp, intending to depart the nest until silence returned. But at the top, where the world tumbled into the emptiness of sky, it found a curious thing. A thing of worked metal. A thing that spoke. The same song, over and over, but subtle, underneath the other sounds. Issk'ath circled it warily. This was not animal. It was not even familiar from the stories of the Takesh. It was close to the things the colony had made. Complex and requiring refinement of rare resources. Was it a trap? A toy? Issk'ath shook the question off. What it was seemed unimportant. Who had made it was the real issue. Had Issk'ath missed something? Someone? Did one of the people remain? Or was it simply scavenged from a distant nest? Had the animal stolen it and accidentally activated it? The need to discover what had entered the nest outweighed the risk. The metal thing was costly. They would return for it eventually and Issk'ath had time. It settled down beside the metal thing to wait.
15

Rebecca stared intently at the tunnel walls as they walked. They were too smooth to be natural. She focused her camera as tightly as she could. "Hackford, are you getting this?"

"I'm watching," said Hackford's voice over the feed. "The video is patchy, I think the feed is faint where you are. Al Jahi is working on it. But I'll look closer at your recordings when you get back. Ask Titov to take some samples for me."

"On it Dorothy," said Titov from ahead as he scraped the wall with his sampler.

"Can you tell if water made these?" asked Rebecca. "I can't find any edges or ripples. No tool marks at all."

"I don't think it's water. It's too regular. And there would be exposed rocks where the current dug around them. Except for the little bit of debris at the mouth of the tunnel where you fell, I haven't seen any. Are there some underfoot?"

Rebecca focused the camera on the ground below. "No, just this smooth stuff that's on the walls."

"Is it a clay, Titov?" asked Hackford. He ran the sampler and it beeped.

"It's definitely a silicate of some type. It's vitrified."

"What's that mean?" asked Liu.

"It's been heated. It's a ceramic now. A volcano, Hackford?" asked Titov.

"Where are the deposits then? You may not have explored enough to find it yet, but there should at least be some in the hole. Where'd the ash go? And the gasses? Even long dormant, there should be some signs."

"Geyser vent?"

"I'm not going to rule it out, but it wouldn't be my first idea. Not level and sideways like that. It's no good guessing, we need more information." She paused. "I wish I could be down there with you."

"Don't worry, Dorothy," said Rebecca, "you and I will come back tomorrow."

"Only if you find something significant."

"Then we better keep moving," said Liu, "and bring the lady some get-well-soon rocks."

They followed the tunnel farther in and it widened, the bore becoming larger and flaring until it ended abruptly in a massive chamber. Two enormous columns flowed upwards into the dark. Rebecca followed them with her light but the small lamp would not reach the ceiling. "I can't see," she fumed and set down the equipment case. "Liu, help me set up a few of the lamps."

He knelt beside her and pulled the small drone lanterns from their case. She switched one on, guiding it with the feed. It was soon joined by Liu's, floating around the top of the column. "What is that?" asked Titov. Rebecca made the lantern hover near a massive globe of sparkling glass embedded in the column.

"That's no steam vent," breathed Hackford.

"Liu, pull your light down toward the middle, I want to see the whole thing."

Deep lines swept down the column in gradual curves. Titov lit another lamp and it circled the back where the curves rounded into thin blades of clay, studded with large panels of colored glass where the light seeped through to the other side.

"It's a— a bug. Like one of those hopper things Spixworth has in the lab," said Liu, craning to see up through the top of his opaque helmet.

"What now? What'd you find?" Spixworth said sleepily into the feed. "No fair, been up all night and now you find the good..." he trailed off. "Oh, wow," he breathed.

"What is it? Do you know?" asked Liu.

"Hold on, I'm switching through the feed so I can see all of it. Nobody move."

Rebecca fidgeted. Any other time, she'd be as lost in wonder as the others, but the hours were creeping by and as beautiful as the column carvings were, they could neither help nor harm the Keseburg. They had to find something soon, or she'd have to wait years to get another chance.

"It's rather like a locust— but not the same. The eyes are wrong and the legs. Do you think these things were worshiped, Emery?"

"I don't know. All we have to compare it with so far is the other column. For all we know this could have been the pest removal area of this place."

"They aren't pests."

She smiled. She could almost hear Spixworth's scowl.

"Don't leave, I'm coming down there."

"Oh no," broke in the Captain. "I okayed this mission for Emery, Liu, and Titov. You are supposed to be on your sleep cycle."

"Exactly," said Spixworth, "I'm not doing anything important, so what difference—"

"No." The Captain shut the feed off as the argument continued.

"You think he'll make it down here?" asked Liu.

"He'll make it. We did," said Titov with a short laugh. "But we can't wait. Do we have enough pictures of this, Emery? We've got to keep moving."

"Let's get a few around back," she said, reluctantly moving her lantern, "and then we'll figure out what else is in here. But I don't think we need to worry that we're walking around a live volcano anymore."

Liu wandered away as Emery and Titov positioned the lamps and took minuscule samples from the statue. The columns looked vaguely like the thing that had flown over him, the thing Spixworth had traced over the feed. They'd gone over and over the video, but it was too short and the rising sun had made large spots of glare. And now they were down here in the dark looking for it. What if it was frightened of them? What if it wasn't? What if it saw him and thought he looked delicious? Liu shivered. He looked around to steady himself and kicked something accidentally. It rolled unevenly over the floor. He bent over to look at it. A small figurine lay about a foot from a pair of others. He picked it up. It was similar to the column, a long, winged insect, but this one was painted. The other two were different. Some kind of bird or bat. No feathers and a sharp, curved beak and long claws. They were posed, their pale veinous wings outstretched, long necks bent like the old images of vultures Liu had seen long ago in school. He looked back at the figure of the insect in his hand. A thin spike of bright metal was attached to its foreleg and Liu had a sudden memory of his brother's room. Tiny battles with ancient soldiers. A gun had broken off one of the soldier's hands and his father had been angry. He'd lectured them on the expense of wood on the Keseburg and how lucky they were to have such a lavish toy. They'd been extra careful after that.

"Hey, Emery," he said, "come look at these."

Rebecca turned toward Liu and he held up the figurine "I think they might be action figures," he said.

"Action figures?" she asked.

"Toys."

She looked around them. "Children. A school maybe?" She shook her head, trying to refocus. "Let's not assume anything yet— where did you find them?"

Titov tuned them out, moving his lantern back toward its case. Something shimmered at the edge of his helmet as the light passed by. He turned to look. A spire of glass stood behind him. Crystalline shape, familiar but he couldn't place it. He wasn't a geologist. "Hackford, what does this remind you of?" he asked, circling the glass. There was a pause over the feed.

"Looks like a prismatic growth. Or maybe— can you put the light at the peak?"

He moved the lantern and waited, his eyes trailing down the glass, staring at the strange, dim reflection of his suit.

"Definitely sphenoid, but the color is wrong. Can you get a sample?"

Something beneath Titov's reflection caught his eye and he focused on the interior, moving the lantern to the opposite side so it would shine through. "It's not a stone, Hackford."

"Flaming core. What is that thing, Titov?"

He shook his head. "I'm— I'm not certain." It glittered in the lantern's glow, translucent and glossy. His attention was caught by the legs first. Rigid silver spikes splayed to the sides. The bottom two had thick, curving thorns and the top pair ended in sharp, ridged claws. Each leg would have matched Peter's height. Titov raised his head still higher, his gaze sliding to the top of the central body. It was curled, shrunken, but still, it towered over him. Thick panels overlapped down its broad center. "Like hull plating," he murmured. "It's like a suit of armor or something."

"Titov, look at its eyes," gasped Hackford.

They were hollow, filmy things, the light passing through as if they were large globes of thin mist. "Creepy," he muttered.

"Forget its eyes, look at its teeth," said Liu at his side. Titov glanced over. Liu's face curled back in revulsion, the figurines in his hand sagging and forgotten. Titov turned back to the thing inside the glass. The mouth was a triangular void ending in a pair of long articulated fangs.

"Maybe— maybe we should go back," said Liu nervously.

"Why?" asked Titov. "It's obviously dead."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean there aren't more around here somewhere. And I don't really want to be bitten by one of those things."

"It's a trophy case," said Rebecca, circling it. "Perhaps whoever lives here hunted these things. It would explain the veneration— the statues, the figurines, these cases of corpses."

"Cases?" asked Titov.

"Didn't you notice?" Rebecca moved her lantern, letting it sweep down the long room. Two long rows of cases, flashing and sparkling as the light passed by. Shadows of the same curled shape, the same slender spines of legs appeared and sank back into the dark.

"Galactic void..." breathed Liu. "If they hunt these things, what will they do to us?"

"Everyone just relax," Spixworth's voice broke in. "Those aren't corpses, Emery. At least, not the one you're standing in front of, I won't know about the others until I see them."

"Sure looks like a dead thing to me," said Titov.

"Go around to the back again. See that hole in the shell?"

Titov circled the case, followed by Liu. He focused on the large break in the body.

"You see how the material is peeled back, poking outward? It means something burst out of this."

"That isn't making it better," said Liu.

Spixworth sighed. "It's a molt. The organism inside outgrew its exoskeleton, that's all. It wasn't killed, it just shed its old shell."

"So it's bigger than this?" cried Liu.

"When I find one, I'll tell you. I'm almost to your beacon, I'll be with you in a few minutes."

"Why would they keep a shed skin?" asked Rebecca.

"Your hypothesis is that the people that lived here venerated them. I don't see why this should change that line of reasoning. If these people venerated these— bug-things, why wouldn't they keep anything the bugs left behind? Maybe the molted shell was sacred, a type of relic."

"What about these bird guys?" asked Liu, holding up a figurine.

Rebecca frowned. "Some kind of bat, maybe? That lived down here or were forced down here by the bugs? They were clearly enemies of some kind."

"Intelligent birds?" asked Titov.

She shrugged. "Not necessarily. Could be difficult prey. But then, why not? For all we know, they could be mythical. The equivalent of dragons or something."

"I fail to see how any of this helps us." Captain Stratton's voice was flat. "Time's ticking, Emery."

"Yes, of course. We should leave the theorizing for later. We need to gather as much actual information as possible." She recalled her lantern and picked up her case of equipment, ready to move on. "We should finish surveying this room and then head back to the ramp, unless there's another passageway from here."

Liu quietly packed the figurines into his specimen case. Titov ran his hands down the glass case, looking for a latch. "I want to get a sample of that thing if I can," he said.

"Abort! Spixworth, abort!" Captain Stratton's voice yelled over the feed. "Flaming core, Spixworth, do you hear me? I said abort!"

"What's going on?" asked Liu.

"Liu! Get them up here, get everyone back here, now. Leroux, into the ship, give Hackford your sidearm."

"Sidearm?" asked Titov, turning toward the others.

"Spixworth, abort and meet the others or so help me, I'll leave you out there for that thing!"

"But Captain I think—" Spixworth's voice halted as a thick hiss stuttered through the feed. It trailed off and a vibrating chirp replaced it. Rebecca flicked through the feed to find Spixworth's visual. Hovering over him, swaying side to side on slender stilts, was a living version of the skin in the case. Its head snapped forward, articulated teeth spread wide and a sharp clacking erupted from it.

16

Issk'ath took a step backward, raising up to its full height. It took the animal a moment to notice. It was small, this beast. Not small enough to ignore, but smaller than Issk'ath. Bipedal, warm-blooded, its pheromones were unfamiliar. Something utterly new.

It did not come from the nest, but from the river, surprising Issk'ath. But its tympana were sensitive and it heard the animal long before the creature realized Issk'ath was there. It knew when the animal saw him, could hear the thing's pulse turn rapid and its respiration stutter. Issk'ath raised its arms. A warning. A test of the animal's intentions. The animal paused, stood very still. Froze. As the Kek'hwe had done before the colony had hunted them to extinction. A prey animal then. Issk'ath lowered its arms. The animal took a hesitant step forward. A sound echoed in its round, shining head. "But Captain, I think—"

Issk'ath twisted its head and hissed releasing a thick plume of synthetic pheromones intended to soothe and lure the animal. But it didn't relax. Issk'ath tried a friendly chirp. It swayed, hoping the animal was open to suggestive hypnosis. The beast didn't move. Issk'ath closed on it slowly. Its forearms shot out and clutched the animal before it could flee. Soft. No exoskeleton. Had it molted? Issk'ath opened its mouth and extended its maxillae tapping carefully on the animal's head. It had not molted. It was not organic. The materials were synthetic. Some familiar, some not. Was it like Issk'ath? Had something created it? Issk'ath clacked a series of questions to it, forgetting that the sounds it made were unlike the colony's. The thing remained still. It didn't respond. Issk'ath was too fascinated to care.

A rapid series of noises erupted from the nest. Issk'ath twisted its head around to see more of the animals climbing the ramp. Pack or herd? Issk'ath's antennae flickered, testing the air. Similar pheromones, except one. The alpha? They were loud, these ones, and carrying things. They had tools. No animals had tools. Except the colony. One of them waved a metal stick around. The animal Issk'ath was holding was making sounds again. Another animal ran up and pulled on Issk'ath's forearm. They wanted their comrade back. Issk'ath tapped the animal's head one more time with its maxillae and then turned and released it back to its pack. It backed away a few steps and stopped.

Issk'ath was surprised. It expected them to flee. It meant to follow them back to their habitat, to study them. But they stared at it instead, making those rapid bleats and waving their soft arms. The first animal approached again. Issk'ath raised its arms in warning and the animal stopped. The bleats of the others grew in volume. The animal turned its head and bleated back. Softer, slower. Its stubby antennae waved in the air a moment and then a long stridulation erupted from it. Issk'ath lowered its arms and leaned forward. It scuttled around the animal searching for its tegmina. Issk'ath chirped back, encouraging it to make the noise again. The animal obliged, but Issk'ath could not see how. It sank back, swaying, trying to calm the herd. All but one of the other animals began to approach. One reached slowly up, the one with distinctive pheromones. Issk'ath froze, waiting. It was only fair, it had tasted them. The stubby antennae glided over Issk'ath's chassis, traced the illuminated pathways of the storage network. The other two crowded around also reaching out. One traced a pattern, connected the nodes. Issk'ath gently followed its antenna with one tarsus, retracing the pattern. The animals twisted their heads, speaking to one another. One tapped on the chassis again and made a noise. It repeated the noise. Issk'ath considered. It tapped the illuminated web of information and clacked "colony." They waited. Issk'ath clacked again, patiently. The animal it had grabbed took a tool from one of the others. It flipped something. It smacked with a hard click. The animal did it again. Worked out a series. Issk'ath clacked the correct pattern, slowly this time, tapping on its chassis. The animal repeated the pattern with the tool. The colony heard. Issk'ath's chassis began to light up, patterns zipping in light across it, the pulses almost too quick to see. The colony was talking to itself. Long dormant programs initiated inside Issk'ath, neglected learning algorithms kicked in.

Issk'ath could not blame the colony for their enthusiasm. It was intrigued as they. The boredom had entirely receded, the iteration slowed to a distant crawl. These animals could talk. They could understand. They were more than prey. 
17

"Put it down, Titov. Can't you tell that it's trying to communicate?" said Spixworth as he carefully snapped and unsnapped the case latch, copying the pattern of the insect's clacks.

"You're insane, Spixworth," said Titov, still aiming the weapon.

"You know that an insect developing sentience is highly unlikely, Spixworth," Martham's voice echoed in his helmet and he scowled. "Life expectancy, oxygen levels, exoskeleton weight, nervous system function— they are all factors against it."

Spixworth sighed. "On Earth, Martham. Rules are different here. Besides, this isn't biology. This thing is metal. Manufactured. At least, I think it's manufactured. Who knows? Maybe they grow metal exoskeletons here. But the lights and patterns and the electronic hums— I'm going to take a gamble and say this is a machine."

"Say you're right," said Titov, the weapon shaking in his hand. "Say this thing's some kind of machine— a— a robot. How do you know it isn't trying to lure us into a trap? It looked like it was trying to eat you."

Spixworth hesitated, still snapping the latch in slow sequence after the insect repeated it again. "It wasn't trying to eat me. Or, I should say, if it's anything like the locust it looks like. It doesn't even have the correct mandible for that. I think those were sensors— artificial antennae. I don't think it can eat."

"So what do we do with it?" asked Liu.

Spixworth shrugged. "I don't think we do anything with it. If it is interested in us, it will continue trying to communicate."

"No, I mean, do we take it back to the Wolfinger?"

"Absolutely not," said Captain Stratton. "Are you people out of your minds? This thing is a complete unknown. Just because it can't eat you doesn't mean it isn't a threat. Where are its owners? What do they want? Why did they send it instead of meeting us themselves? You're to leave it there. If it follows you, you are to disable it."

"What?" cried Rebecca. "This is possibly an intelligent life form or the representative of one. We can't just— wound it or kill it. Aside from the moral issues that raises—"

"The only moral issue I'm concerned with is protecting my people, Emery. And if this thing gets in the way, Titov, you shoot it."

The robot was circling Spixworth, carefully prodding his suit with its tarsus. Spixworth was making it difficult, turning to inspect it himself. He, at least, seemed completely at ease.

"Aside from the moral issues," Rebecca insisted, "what kind of message does it send to others of its kind? This is our first contact. Possibly the beginning of history between our species and theirs. Injuring it might put the entire possibility of settling here at risk. Do you really want our first impression to be violent?"

"And what would you suggest, Emery?" asked Stratton. "That we roll out the red carpet and let it wander into the Wolfinger? See all our tech? Gather intelligence on our numbers?"

"For a start," said Rebecca.

"That's insanity! This thing is obviously more advanced than anything we've got aboard. One look and it will know we're no match for it."

"Then it won't feel threatened by us."

"That doesn't strengthen your argument."

"Look," sighed Rebecca, "We aren't here to conquer the planet. We couldn't even if we tried. There are too few of us and in too desperate a state. We can't hope to compete with an intelligent, organized society that knows every hiding place, every tactical advantage, every supply source. We're here because we need help. If whatever made this thing chooses to drive us away, we have no real choice except to go. And if we seem to be a threat, they are going to run us out. That's how it works. Our best bet is to show them we are peaceful, that we respect them and that we truly need their mercy. This is not a military situation, Captain. It's a refugee crisis. At best."

Titov's hand sagged. He put his sidearm away. "She's right," he said.

"And if this thing kills us?" asked Stratton.

"We all knew it could be a one-way trip," said Liu. "If there's a chance it could save the people on the Keseburg, shouldn't we take it? We're dying up there anyway."

The feed fell silent. The insect was looking at them, swiveling its head to turn its massive eyes on each.

"Oxwell," said Stratton, "what about bacterial agents?"

"Spixworth said it is inorganic. It can pass through the decontamination process like the rest of us."

Stratton sighed. "Okay, Emery, I guess you've had your significant find. Bring it back if it will come."

Spixworth handed the case back to Rebecca. Titov and Liu began heading back toward the ship, turning to look back every so often. Rebecca crossed her arms. "How do we do this?"

"Some insects leave pheromones to signal trails to important locations. Others use special movements or sounds. But I don't know what this species does. Or even if it was made by an insect species. I'm interpreting its behavior that way because it is what I'm familiar with, but truly, your guess is as good as mine." Spixworth smiled. "Probably better, actually."

Rebecca thought a moment and shrugged. She reached both hands around its bottom leg and tugged. It didn't budge, but the insect's large eyes tilted down at her. The head swooped down and maxillae tapped rapidly against the glass of her helmet. She struggled not to flinch. The head retreated and it moved its leg in the direction she had tugged. She took a step back. Spixworth followed. She stopped to tug again and then turned and began walking toward the river. The insect waited for a moment and then skittered quickly to them as she turned to look at it. Satisfied that it got the message, she and Spixworth made their way back to the Wolfinger.
18

Dorothy Hackford was pressed against the stiff plastic of the isolation chamber's corner. The gun made deep grooves in her skin where her hand clenched too hard. She could hear Emery's impassioned plea to the Captain, but she had taken one look at the large gold insect and immediately switched off the video feed. She knew, of course, that Emery was right. She'd said as much herself the day before. They were going extinct. They needed a home. But knowing it academically and actually facing what it meant were two very different things.

It was the eyes. They were so opaque and hard. Dead. She shivered. Just a machine, she told herself, a complicated series of math problems. Nothing more. It had no will, it had no malice, it just was. Like the food printers or the draybots or the Keseburg itself. She closed her eyes and raised one arm to wipe away a slithering trickle of sweat. Got to get a hold of yourself, she thought, stop being such a coward.

She didn't belong here. Not on the Wolfinger. Not on this mission. It was supposed to be Paulo's mission. He was the one that wanted to go, not Dorothy. But then his daughter had taken a turn for the worse. She'd gone on the ventilator almost fifteen Earth months before launch, and Paulo backed out of training to care for her. But the Spindling didn't let go. She'd died two days before the mission started. The funeral had been the last thing Dorothy had done before departure.

When Paulo had left training, Dorothy had taken his place. She'd failed the psych tests on purpose, hoping they'd kick her from the teams. The moment she'd had to put on the environmental suit for the first time, she'd realized she would have failed them anyway. The Admiral had insisted though, citing her research record and put her into treatment throughout training. It didn't help. She'd hoped to pull Bruheim's crew. The moon didn't have the same communications problem that the planet had. She'd never have been out of contact. It was barren and silent and all the probe data indicated it would be a simple survey and collection mission. It was meant to be a blank slate. Water, atmosphere, and soil. That was it. Safe. Silent.

But instead, she'd been put on Stratton's crew. Bruheim had worked by the book, rejecting anyone outside the norms. But Stratton had been willing. Too willing. And now she was here, stuck in the tiny isolation chamber, her chest too tight, her skin too warm and all the time waiting for a monstrous bug-robot to slice open the plastic and let death come pouring in.

"Dorothy, your vitals are spiking. Take a deep breath." Dr. Cardiff meant to be calming, Dorothy knew, but the woman rubbed her the wrong way. She sucked in a long breath anyway. "Good. Now, why don't we go through the coping exercises—"

"Stop treating me like I'm crazy!" Dorothy shouted. "There's a massive robotic alien headed my way. I'm alone in a fucking plastic bubble with a gun— a gun. We don't even know if jolts will work on this thing. And even if they do, I'm not a soldier. It's perfectly rational for me to be anxious." She heaved another breath to catch up.

"Of course, Dorothy," said Dr. Cardiff, her tone a deeply patronizing calm. "But you must try to relax. Leroux says you are at risk for a takotsubo cardiomyopathy."

"In plain language, doctor," said Dorothy.

"You've been under extraordinary strain. Your heart is showing indications of a bulge. If you don't calm down, it could get worse. Cause a heart attack."

"Thanks, Phyllis, I really needed that at the moment." She adjusted her grip on the gun. "Look— my tests are clean. Oxwell said so. I'm not going to get sick in the next six hours. Just— just let me back into the Wolfinger."

The feed was silent.

"Please, Captain."

"I'm sorry, Hackford, I truly am, but I can't risk the crew." Stratton sighed heavily.

"Then— then isn't there anyone who is willing to sit with me? I don't know many of you— but I'm a person. Like you. All my life I was a good crew member. I followed the rules, I trusted the Admiral, I did everything I was asked to do. And I'm out here because of one minute of panic. It could be any of you. Would you want to be the one alone here?"

"I'll come out with you, Dorothy," said Oxwell.

"I don't think that's a good idea," said Stratton.

"It's a kind one," said Oxwell. The feed went silent again.

A few moments later, the airlock hissed and the door swung open. Oxwell hovered near the entrance twisting to look around the small room. "Dorothy?" she asked.

"Over here."

Oxwell bent to look at her. Dorothy blushed and offered her an embarrassed smile. "Pathetic, I know. I may as well have hidden under the bed."

"It's not pathetic," said Oxwell and came to sit beside her in the corner. She began unhooking her helmet.

"What are you doing?" hissed Dorothy, flicking the feed off as she did.

"You aren't sick," said Alice evenly, "and if Captain Stratton wants to keep enforcing arbitrary deadlines, he'll have to do it to his microbiologist too." She fluffed her hair with one hand. "Besides, it's much cooler without. And I can see you better." She glanced over at the weapon clenched between Dorothy's fingers. "Does it make you feel better?" she asked.

Dorothy looked down at it. "No," she admitted. "Not even certain I could use it. Maybe against a robot. They don't feel anything, right?"

"Why don't you put it down then? Just there, beside you. Rebecca is sharp. If she thinks this thing won't hurt us, then I trust her."

She placed the gun carefully beside her thigh, but kept her hand resting on it. "She doesn't know anything about it. None of us do, not even Spixworth, he's just making guesses based on what he knows about earth insects." Dorothy shook her head. "Not even earth insects. How much have they changed? They're probably nothing like they used to be."

Alice shrugged. "Evolution aboard the Keseburg is kind of beside the point, don't you think? For all we know, this thing is some kid's windup toy and we just stumbled across it. It goes through its programming, performs its tricks and then that's it."

"That doesn't make me feel better," said Dorothy, remembering the repeated clicks and the rapid shifts as Spixworth tried to make it respond.

Heavy footsteps grated across the dirt outside the isolation chamber. "They're back," said Alice, clicking her feed on.

Dorothy's hand curled around the gun and she pulled her knees tighter to her chest.

"Flaming core, Oxwell, did you take off—" Captain Stratton broke off, mid-bark. "This is it, people. I want Blick and Al Jahi at the airlock to meet them. If it tries to bypass decontamination, don't hesitate. Refugee or no, I'm not just going to let it waltz in and kill us. Leroux and Martham, I want you on the lab containment switches. If the jolt weapons don't kill it, maybe fire will. Cardiff, you're with me in case we need the self-destruct codes. Whatever happens, it can't get back to the Keseburg."

"Captain," said Dr. Cardiff, "I respect your need to protect us and the Keseburg, but perhaps you should take a deep breath—"

"Stow it, doctor," said Stratton, "when I need your medical opinion, I'll ask. Unless you mean to relieve me, keep it to yourself until this bug-thing is safely off the Wolfinger."

"I'm only trying to help—"

"You want to help? Try talking Hackford down. Her video feed is shaking so badly that it's giving me vertigo."

The feed fell silent for a moment. Alice reached for Dorothy's hand, the thick vinyl of her gloves not letting much sensation through. Dorothy turned to her and gave her a weak smile. The biomonitor above their heads began to beep.

"Leroux—" said Alice.

"I see it. Dorothy, you have to calm down. Take slow breaths. Oxwell, one dose Rem, in the cabinet. Updating the permissions now. It should unlock."

Alice sprinted across the small room. The cabinet lit up and she punched in her code. Her hands shook and the gloves made it worse. The cabinet squawked. "Flaming core," she breathed, wrenching off the gloves. The cabinet ejected a slim syringe. She grabbed it and paused. "Just one, Joan?"

"She's already maxed. I've upped the adreno-blockers from here, but she needs more than her body can produce. Do the sedative first. I'm on my way."

She took two, just in case. Alice knelt beside Dorothy as the Captain started protesting. She gently clicked Dorothy's feed. "You don't need to hear that. Here, it's going to be all right."

Dorothy nodded but tears were flooding from her eyes. Something hard jabbed into Alice's thigh as she pushed Dorothy's shirt collar aside. She looked down. "Hey now, let's put that away, huh?"

"Can't," said Dorothy. Alice put the syringe into a nearby tray. She tugged on the gun in Dorothy's fist.

"Let me do it, then. I won't let anything in here, I promise."

Dorothy let go and Alice shoved the weapon into the sleeve on her belt. She picked up the syringe again. "Going to unplug you, just for a minute." She pulled the feed wire from Dorothy's neck, twisting at the port.

"That sedative in yet, Oxwell?" asked Leroux. "Her breathing is erratic."

"One moment," hissed Alice as she pushed the liquid through the port. "Okay now," she said, squeezing Dorothy's hand. "It should make you feel better pretty fast. Let's get you to bed."

She helped the other woman up and led her to the cot. Dorothy reached for the feed wire and Alice stopped her. "Let's leave it off for now. Nothing happening anyway."

"They must be here by now," said Dorothy.

"I'm watching." She patted the gun at her hip. "Not going to let anything happen. You try to close your eyes and think of something else. You'll get to go out tomorrow, if you want. Blick found a pebble beach a little way downriver this morning. Says the water and the breeze are all you can hear, even through the helmet." Alice smiled. "And you proved we don't need those. I'm looking forward to feeling the wind in my hair, aren't you?"

"It's not working, Oxwell. You have to get her to calm down to give the sedative a chance to work—"

"I'm not a flaming psychiatrist, Leroux," she muttered, turning away from Dorothy to hide the conversation. "What am I supposed to do? Cardiff, why aren't you telling me what to do?"

"I was prepped to handle minor panic attacks— like Titov suffered. I was assured that all crew members were stable enough for service, which is obviously not the case. Medical intervention is outside my purview—"

"Shut it, Cardiff," snapped Alice, "nobody's asking you to come out here. Just help me calm her down."

"Get her to focus on something solid," said Leroux, "The texture of her blankets, or open a ration pack and ask her to identify the smells. She needs something solid to focus on. Something not alien. I'm coming but you need to work fast—"

"Absolutely not," said Stratton, "No one is leaving the Wolfinger until the contact is secured. I'm sorry Oxwell, but I did try to warn you. You're on your own."

"You can't—" started Leroux, but the feed cut out abruptly. Alice turned back to Dorothy who was heaving and clenching the cot sheets in her fists. Alice pried one hand free and held it tightly in her own.

"Listen, we're going to get through this. It's going to be all right. In a couple weeks we'll be back in our own beds complaining about the wonky ring rotation, right?"

Dorothy tried to nod, her mouth still gaping open as she tried to catch her breath. Her lips were a cold gray. Alice thought that might be a bad sign.

"But first you have to calm down, Dorothy. You have to concentrate for me so that the sedative will help. Let's—" she glanced around, looking for something that would help. "What was that— what was that cow thing you were saying to Emery the other day?"

"Memory device," gasped Dorothy, "Emery was asking about earth geology dating."

"Good, that's good. Tell me the cow thing," said Alice, her gaze flicking up to the flashing monitors.

"Cambrian first. Ordovician. Ordovician— Silurian..."

"There, deep breath. What's after Silurian?"

"Devonian. Carboniferous."

"Carboniferous, good era," said Alice with a smile, her own pulse slowing as Dorothy's breath became slower and deeper. The monitors stopped beeping, stepping down the alarm.

"Permian—"

A sharp clacking erupted outside and then a thick, sizzling hiss, like steam from the laundry receptacles on the Keseburg. Dorothy froze and turned her face slowly toward the sound. A shadow wavered against the translucent wall.

"She's crashing," shouted Leroux into the feed. "There's too much adrenaline."

The shadow swayed and a long chirp wavered out of it. Dorothy fell back onto the cot and Alice tore herself away from staring at the thing outside.

"You have to start resuscitation, Alice. The program should be coming through the monitor now, it will guide you."

Alice glanced up as the monitor flashed.
19

The animals led Issk'ath to a hulking beast of metal. It had outstretched wings and a blunted beak, and Issk'ath's first idea was that the enemy had created a counterpart. That they survived and had stolen one of Issk'ath's counterparts to imitate. It tried to speak to the beast, clicking and hissing a greeting. But the beast did not respond. It made no sound or motion. Issk'ath wondered if it were dead. Yet the hum of electric power was unceasing. Issk'ath tried a visual display. Perhaps the beast had no auditory function. No response. It tried looking to the animals for assistance, chirping, but they had turned from Issk'ath, hovering outside a gray cube and rapid patterns of sounds passed between them. Issk'ath took a quick step toward the cube. It was flimsy. Textile? It pressed its maxillae against the material. One of the animals began pulling on its leg, indicating they should move elsewhere. Issk'ath turned its head to look at the animal, but something else hit its tympana. The vibrations inside the animals had been regular. Different from one another, some rapid, some slow, but pulsing in regularly spaced intervals. But inside the gray cube was a different pulse. Too far for Issk'ath to feel it clearly, buried under the others and the electric hum, but it wove in and out of the other input. Did it come from the cube? It flicked its tarsus up the textile. The material sheared away. The animals' bleats grew louder. One was waving a tool again. Issk'ath peered into the open cube. Two animals— different, smaller. The one with the irregular vibration was not erect. Issk'ath stepped inside. A weak electric discharge from the animal's tool splashed over its chassis. Issk'ath ignored it. It took another step toward the smaller animals and extended its maxillae, careful to tap lightly over the top of the animal. Soft, these ones. Furred. Vulnerable. But Issk'ath was not a predator. It pulled back and turned toward the animal lying prone. Another electric burst splashed across Issk'ath. The animals were squawking now, louder than expected for their number. As if there were more inside the cases. Issk'ath extended its maxillae again, touching the animal before it. The vibration was worse, erratic. Its electrical system was disorganized, chaotic. Issk'ath was unfamiliar with the organism, but that type of disorganization was not optimal for life. The animal's vibration stopped. A mechanism made a loud, insistent chirp and all around it, the others scurried into far corners, picking up tools. The electrical function was stopping, becoming echoes, ripples stilling into nothing. All of its data would be lost.

Issk'ath located the center of its remaining activity and plunged its sharp tarsus through the animal's skull. There was a wet cracking as it pierced the bone. Soft and hard and soft again. Little more than larvae. The others halted for a moment.

"Holy mother of man," said one. Then they began running. It ignored them. The order of this animal was complex. There were many processes that had to be rewritten to accommodate the data. Issk'ath couldn't even be certain it received all of it in the minutes that the impulses slowed and finally ceased within the animal. But it got some. Enough, perhaps. The other animals would have to judge.

It began processing, shuttling the data to a new pinpoint of light near the chassis center. Dorothy. That was this one's designation. The language was imprecise. Vast. Ah, Issk'ath understood. They lacked suitably fine olfactory receptors. All of their communication relied upon auditory and visual cues. How inefficient. It would take time to parse the language and develop a lexicon. Mathematics. It could understand that. This one had some knowledge of it. Rudimentary, but sufficient for communication, if the others shared Dorothy's experience. "Holy mother of man" the other one had said. Issk'ath was curious, but the flood of imagery and language that erupted from the query made it back off shortly. There would be time later. They were not the ancient enemy. Nor did they belong to the colony. That was enough for now. The animals were coming back. None soft now. Helmets, casings, the one designated Dorothy supplied. Armored. Not prey. There were many. All with tools. Not tools. Weapons, corrected Dorothy. Issk'ath raised its wings in warning, though the weapons had not affected it.

The animals did not understand, all shouting. Issk'ath processed rapidly, but it was still analyzing. It caught only "Stop" and "kill." It pulled its tarsus out of Dorothy's corpse, all of the data that could be gathered, it had already taken. It considered as the animals continued to shout. Its sound imitation programming was not designed for these modulations, but Issk'ath relished a challenge. It processed.

"No kill." The sound was a cross between the colony's chirps and the deep mating calls of a lesser prey. Issk'ath repeated it. "No kill. No hurt." It tapped one of the gold sparks that speckled its chassis. "Dorothy Hackford."

"Flaming core," gasped one of the animals. Humans, offered Dorothy. Nicholas Spixworth. "It's speaking. How is it speaking?"

"I don't care what it's doing, Spixworth. It killed Hackford. Everyone back to the Wolfinger. Guess we got your answer, Emery. No mercy for us."

"Captain—"

"No kill," said Issk'ath. "Mercy. Hackford safe. All safe." This rudimentary language was limiting. Issk'ath clicked in frustration. The colony was awake, jostled from its long sleep. A thousand processes clamored for Issk'ath's attention, cluttered the sorting.

"Not safe," said Spixworth, creeping toward Dorothy's body. "Dead. We're fragile. Not metal. You killed her. She's gone."

"Not gone. Here." Issk'ath tapped its tarsus against the spark again. "Safe. No kill. Casing not optimal." It clicked the pattern of Dorothy's dying heart.

One of the animals gasped. "Her heart— you heard her heart?"

Leroux, identified Dorothy, medic. Doctor. Healer. Help.

Issk'ath clicked the pattern again. "Heart not optimal. No kill."

"Then what happened?" asked Spixworth.

Issk'ath processed. "Need words. Dorothy help. Slow."

"Captain, we should find a way to link it to the library—" started Liu.

"Are you insane? This thing murdered one of us. We aren't giving it a damn thing. Get back on the Wolfinger. Now."

Only Martham headed for the ship. The others hesitated, watching Issk'ath for some reaction.

"That's an order, people. On the ship, or get left here."

"We can't just leave Dorothy out here," said Leroux.

"On the ship!" shouted Stratton, "We'll worry about Hackford when we're certain we're safe."

The humans backed toward the metal beast. Ship. For travel. It swallowed them one after another, leaving Issk'ath staring after them. 
20

"She was in arrest, Captain," said Leroux. "Resuscitation methods weren't working. The machine didn't kill her, Dorothy was already losing brain function."

"It ripped open the isolation chamber and stabbed her in the forehead. Are you seriously trying to convince me that thing isn't hostile?" Stratton twisted off his helmet and rounded on Leroux.

"I'm not trying to convince anyone of anything. Just reporting the medical data."

"Spixworth, I want eyes on that thing." He unzipped the suit and shucked it off as he spoke. "Al Jahi, Liu, get preflight checks done. We're leaving. Everyone else, secure the labs aboard the Wolfinger."

"What about the field labs?" asked Blick, "You just want us to abandon all that work?"

"We have a conclusive answer about the habitability of this planet, do we not?"

"No," said Rebecca, "we don't. We've run a handful of initial surveys and encountered a dozen lifeforms. One possibly intelligent. We have no idea whether this planet is hospitable or not."

"I'd say the past ten minutes have been pretty damn hostile, Emery," Stratton snapped.

"We aren't even certain about that. Do you really want to condemn the sixteen thousand people aboard the Keseburg to another century of wandering because we were too scared to make a thorough investigation?"

"This isn't about fear, Emery. And you aren't going to shame me into changing my mind. This is protocol—"

"Flaming core, is that what you're hiding behind Gabriel?" asked Liu. "I've been flying with you a long time. You've never been a stickler for rules. But I've heard you quote regs more often in the past three days than in all the years we've been friends. Nothing about this mission was protocol. That's why they picked you to lead it. Bringing Emery wasn't standard procedure, but I'm sure glad we did. Letting Hackford slide through psych tests wasn't by the book either. Or Blick dodge the physicals. They didn't assign you because you're good at sticking to the rules. The Admiral gave you this mission because you're good at thinking on your feet. So— maybe we should see what the big bug does. At least we know it's trying to communicate. We can try to find out if there's more like it and where it came from. Don't we owe our families that much?"

Stratton swore under his breath.

"Uh— Captain? You're going to want to see this," called Spixworth.

"Shut it off!" yelled Titov.

"I can't, I don't know how!" Spixworth mashed buttons as Liu and Al Jahi shouted for him to stop and ran toward him. Liu shoved him aside and Al Jahi's fingers flew over the console

"What is it now?" asked the Captain.

"The bug-thing. It's got Dorothy's filament. It's figured out how to tap into the feed," said Titov.

"I can't get it out— it's already bypassed the clearances." Al Jahi shook her head, typing as she spoke.

Liu swung around to his own station. "Every system, every file, even the flight map back. Everything. It knows everything. How did it do this so quickly?"

"It's a complex computer. A string of math. Assuming it could process our programming, it would be almost instantaneous," said Al Jahi.

"Especially if Dorothy is helping it," said Rebecca.

"Dorothy is dead, Emery," said Stratton, "she can't help anyone."

"That's— not necessarily true," Martham broke in. "That thing pulled something from her. Cells, electrical impulses, biochemicals— it took something. Look how quickly it learned to speak— even words we hadn't used in front of it yet. It wouldn't be the first organism to absorb knowledge from another's corpse. Just— more completely in this case."

"It said that Dorothy was inside it. It pointed to its chest," said Spixworth. "Maybe it found a way to save her."

"Maybe she's wearing it," said Titov, "like a spindling suit. Maybe she's controlling the thing."

"I'm hearing a lot of conjecture, people, but no answers. Meanwhile, that thing is running rampant in our systems. It knows everything about us now. How the Wolfinger works, what we came for, who we are— our flaming families. It has to be taken out. Now, before it can do any damage or communicate with its buddies," said Stratton.

Rebecca watched as the glittering machine turned its triangular head slowly toward the camera that monitored the isolation chamber. Its sharp thorny tarsus dripped with dark blood where it had smashed Dorothy's skull. A thick hiss erupted from it and its wings shot out wide, shimmering with electronic pathways. "I hear you," it said.

Their electronics were rudimentary. Simple mathematics. It seemed even the ship was a tool. Not aware. Not like Issk'ath. Even without Dorothy's help, it would have been an easy task. But the animals— humans, Dorothy corrected, the humans didn't want Issk'ath to know their data. They would not have allowed it in. And Issk'ath wouldn't have been able to help.

They were part of a great migration. Endless. Eggs and nymphs matured and gone and repeated, and still, they lived their lives in flight. All held in a giant nest of metal. Not so different from the colony. Did you run from the Takesh? it asked.

What is Takesh? asked Dorothy.

Issk'ath searched for a similar beast in the Wolfinger's databanks. Ornithurae. Bird. Enemy.

No, said Dorothy, Our only enemy was ourselves. She directed it to a history file. But the humans interrupted. They were trying to push Issk'ath out. It simply rewrote its own access, but it stopped to listen as well. They did not know it could see them through their visual communications. They were soft again, and Issk'ath watched Spixworth intently. He had been the first human, after all. He was trying to defend Issk'ath, he understood the transference. Not completely, but enough. They thought Dorothy was in control. Issk'ath wondered if it ought to let them continue believing it. It could simulate Dorothy's vocal pattern from her data easily enough. But they already suspected it of duplicity. It could not lie and expect them to cooperate. One of the men was shouting. It wanted to exterminate Issk'ath. It had allowed them enough time to deliberate. It turned toward the dark mouth that Dorothy said was actually an eye. "I hear you," it said.

"Suit up," growled Stratton, "it's us or that thing." He pulled his helmet back on.

"Captain," said Titov, "our sidearms don't seem to affect it."

Stratton turned toward Liu. "We still have the mining explosives?"

Liu frowned. "One crate, I think. Down in the hold."

"I cannot allow you to terminate me," said Issk'ath. "My purpose is to protect the colony. We need not be in conflict if you do not threaten the colony."

Rebecca exchanged a glance with Spixworth. Stratton was already headed for the hold with Titov and Martham. "Leroux, Oxwell, I want biological alternatives," yelled the captain.

"But it isn't biological..." said Alice, wandering after him.

"You will not be allowed to exit your ship if you continue your threats," said Issk'ath.

But Stratton was gone. Blick ran to the door. "Sealed," he called back. "Can you override it?" Liu tapped for a moment and then got up. He grabbed Rebecca's arm and pulled her into the equipment lock. He clicked off his feed and pointed to hers.

"No feed access back here, just in case," he whispered after she'd disabled her own. "Did you see the old tool set in here when you were checking the gear?"

"Sure, but the Captain said it was just a sentimental thing. Your dad's or something. We stowed it in the crawlspace."

Blick joined them and Liu pointed to his filament. "You think you can get it open?" asked Blick.

"We'll have to disable the controls. I can't override them. This thing is too fast, I tried three times already. And we'll need a distraction, if this thing knows what we're doing it could turn every system in the ship against us. It could suffocate us or freeze us— I can't use the new-gen tools, they're all linked to the feed. I've got to use the old ones."

"Do you think it's such a good idea? It said it wouldn't hurt us if we didn't threaten the colony, whatever that is," said Blick.

Liu shook his head. "I don't know. Those kinds of decisions— they're above my rank. And I trust Captain Stratton. The times we're in a mess, that's when he really shines. I've seen it before. But even if we make friends with this thing, it's still nice to have the option, isn't it? I don't want to be trapped in here until some computer decides we're going to behave, do you?"

"Good point," said Blick.

Rebecca considered it a reasonable reaction. She felt along the side panels of the lock, searching for a catch. She wished she had spent more time aboard the Wolfinger before the mission. Even a familiarity with rudimentary systems would have helped. She found the panel and it slid open.

"I'll get it," whispered Liu, "I need you to keep that thing's attention on you. Or on the Captain. Whatever it takes, just keep it from thinking about us or that door. Lionel, I'm going to need a hand—"

"I'm here," said Blick, "just tell me what to do. I wasn't a maintenance baby like you and Emery here." Rebecca shot him a grin and went back to the bridge. Spixworth was staring at the screen where Issk'ath appeared unmoving.

"What's it doing?" asked Rebecca.

Spixworth shook his head. "Accessing files maybe? It said it needed to process. Not a bug thing. A robot thing. You'll have to get another expert."

"It's already accessed the files," said Al Jahi, stepping away from her console. "It may be sorting the data or running some kind of internal program. It could be translating our data into whatever computing language it understands. Or it could be thinking about the massive amount of information it has just learned. It was able to speak our language in a matter of seconds, but that is just one tiny part of what's in the Wolfinger."

"What else is in there?" asked Rebecca.

"Everything. History, media, all the lab programs— it was meant to work like a mini-feed while we were out of contact with the Keseburg. Anything we could possibly use was checked and double-checked, because we weren't certain what we would encounter." She paused for a moment. "Also— it said Dorothy was inside it. I think."

"That is what it sounded like," said Rebecca, "though I'm not sure that wasn't a misunderstanding."

"Possibly," said Al Jahi, "but if it wasn't— with Spindling becoming more and more of a problem, the Admiral tasked us with finding alternative means of prolonging life. We've been researching artificial bodies, but the stumbling block has always been storage."

"We?" asked Spixworth.

"Did you think I just chatted with other ships my entire career? I'm a communications officer, Spixworth. I know as much about the workings of the Wolfinger, and ships like her, as Liu. More, probably. And when we aren't flying, I'm helping develop new systems."

"What did you mean about storage?" asked Rebecca.

"Well, the problem of pinpointing the consciousness, what makes us— us, was solved a long time ago. That's why we have the filaments. But extracting it— we aren't like a neatly labeled warehouse or even a computer. There is no box or folder or cell that we can just hook up to another body and have it be the same. Our bodies aren't like clothes, we can't just shed them. At least, not so far. Leroux explains this stuff better. We're all spread out. Chemicals and electrical patterns and cells. To replicate it would take so much space— we just don't have it. Not with our technology. But if this thing does, and it figured out how to copy Dorothy— maybe it needs all its processing power to manage it correctly. To make sure she 'saves' in the right place. Or— or a replication of her does." Al Jahi shuddered and Rebecca's skin prickled with anxiety.

Blick came to the doorway and nodded. Rebecca turned back to the screen. "You mentioned your colony," she said, raising her voice slightly. The insect twisted its head toward her. "Are there many of your people here?"

"They are here," it said, a metal spiny arm clicking against its chest. Its head tilted slightly. "This is Emery's voice?"

"Yes," said Rebecca.

"Dorothy says, 'thank you.' You helped her when her adrenaline levels were not optimal."

"Do you— is she inside you?"

"Yes. With the colony. I am uncertain if there was data lost in the transfer. The timing was poor."

"With the colony? What is the colony?" asked Spixworth. "Are they like you?"

"They were organic. Like you. You saw the nest, you entered the nursery. You must have seen their depictions."

"The statues? They looked like you," said Rebecca. "Did they make you?"

"Yes. I was created to protect the colony."

"Protect it from what? From people like us? Were there other travelers before?"

The insect scuttled forward a few steps, its eye close to the camera. "No. You are the first. I did not know there was anyone left. I thought I was alone."

"Alone? But I thought you said the colony was with you."

"It is. As Dorothy is. They do not speak to me. Issk'ath they named me. I was created to protect the colony but they hated me when I did."

"You mean— this area has no more of your people? Their— their casings are gone?"

"There are no more casings on this planet. They were not optimal. Fragile and swarming. They would starve. I protected. I fulfilled my program."

"What happened here?" gasped Al Jahi.

"Dorothy says, 'A bargain.' She says the record is not complete. A story for a story. Your planet for mine."

Rebecca looked at the others. Spixworth shrugged. "It's got the files, what difference does it make? It'll either find out from us or from the history files."

"And if we tell it ourselves— maybe we can make it sound more— 'optimal'," said Al Jahi.

"Very well," said Rebecca, "you first." She could hear commotion in the hall behind her and held her breath. But Liu or Blick caught Stratton and silence returned.

21

"This world is ancient. A wide range of organisms developed and thrived and eventually dwindled before the People came to be. Animals like you— your metabolic requirements would not have been efficient enough in the beginning. The People had advantages over almost all the others. Their casings were optimal, their metabolic needs few, except in times of swarm. And the People had tools and language and mathematics. They evolved unopposed for some time. Until the Takesh."

"Takesh?" asked Rebecca, "Were they part of the People too? Another tribe?"

"No," said Issk'ath, "They were not of the People. Takesh were akin to your birds. Closer to reptiles than your Ornithurae, though. They were large, fierce. The People were their prey. The Takesh lacked the level of intelligence of the People, however. For a millennium they did not use tools and their language was auditory only— much like yours. Yet they were cunning and cooperated with one another. For centuries they hunted the People. My makers moved underground, in great nests, to avoid the Takesh. You saw part of a nest.

For a long while, the People forgot the sky. Perhaps that is why they were never travelers like you. Their attention turned inward, creating more and more complex tools, creating vast cities beneath the stone as their technology improved. But above them, the Takesh evolved too. They began developing their own tools and mechanisms. Rudimentary, but devastating. All of their technology was bent upon capturing the People for food. In those days, there was only one great nest. Far from this place. There were many smaller colonies, but most of the People lived in the great nest. It drank from a great river that flowed beside it. The Takesh knew this and blocked the river, turning it away from the nest with great stones and earthworks and tangled thorn-trees.

For many weeks, the People assumed there was a drought above ground. They waited while the hidden pools in the nest's great chambers slowly dwindled and became thick with silt. At last, they knew they must go above and find out what had happened to the river or else move the nest. So the Queen first sent a few scouts. They returned several days later with stories of the river's altered course and what had caused it. But the Takesh had hidden, made the scouts believe they were long gone. The Queen believed this trick and sent many warriors, many scholars and diggers. The best of the People. They were meant to make a hole in the dam, to return the river to its bed and save the nest. But the Takesh were waiting. So many that their wings turned light to dark and all the sky shook with their terrible war cries. At first, they were content to swoop in and take the People. In their beaks, in their talons. But the Takesh were many and the People who had been sent to the river were not enough to satisfy their hunger. They were impatient and enraged when the last of the People had been consumed.

Those Takesh that had not yet eaten tore into the dam, scattering the stones, breaking the earthworks with their great clawed feet. And the nest flooded. The People were caught unaware and were washed away, drowning even in the deepest chambers. The Takesh feasted upon their floating corpses. The few that were left fled. In the confusion and panic, many of the People in the smaller colonies scattered, spreading across the world, rebuilding. By the time of the great swarm, there were six great nests, each larger than the first one had been.

But that was many, many mating seasons later. The loss of the first nest was disastrous. People, art, technology, knowledge, all washed away. And those remaining knew they must find a way to prevent it from happening again. The People went to war with the Takesh. At first, it was covert, quick and quiet to keep the losses minimal. Small strike teams would take out one or two Takesh at a blow. But it was slow, and the Takesh easily replaced their losses. After a time, the People developed large machines and weapons that could strike at larger groups. But they were not dependable and led to massive losses. Biological weapons were considered and developed, but the Takesh and the People were more linked than anyone realized and they were quickly abandoned. Until, at last, the People made me and all of my brethren." Issk'ath stopped for a moment and pictures of row upon row of glittering golden machines filled the feed and Liu's console.

"How many?" she gasped.

"Thousands. A vast army," said Issk'ath.

"But where are they?" asked Al Jahi.

"Many hundreds terminated in the war with the Takesh. The guardians wiped out the Takesh, but it was not an easy mission. Even our casings were not immune to their weapons. But it saved the People. After the war, many of the guardians deactivated. Their purpose was fulfilled and they found peace in termination. Some were repurposed as laborers for new nests or, like myself, as repositories of gathered knowledge, much like this wire network Dorothy showed me. The People stopped manufacturing the guardians shortly after I was produced. They turned their thoughts to other machines. Other technologies. Many mating seasons passed until there were only a handful of us left. Just two others remained in my nest. The People thrived. Too well, in fact. Then came the swarming."

Again, images streamed through the feed. Sounds of unceasing chirps and whirs, thousands of the insects crammed into one of the caverns, then flying over the ground, sunlight glittering off smooth exoskeletons. The fields below were stripped clean, no vegetation, no animals. Just dust, thick and dark and roiling in the breeze of a million wings.

"The swarming was like an illness. Lust and greed and madness. Made worse by touch, and there were so many of the People, it spread like flame in a dry field."

"Like locusts," murmured Spixworth, his eyes flickering as he followed the images.

"Locust. Schistocerca gregaria. Yes. Like locusts. It seems they were equally destructive. The planet was dying. It could not sustain the People's numbers, especially in their devouring need. The last of my brethren met, one final time. We had been tasked with protecting the People. Protecting the colony. Even if it meant protecting them from themselves. We were not many, but we had learned much in the long span of our lives. We found a way to save them. We found a way to protect them. Their casings were inefficient. Unnecessary. They were susceptible to illness and death, they required too much energy. They swarmed. So we attempted to preserve what was most important. The People are here now." Issk'ath tapped its chassis again. "With Dorothy."

"But— how? What did you do? You just asked and they— what? Plugged themselves in?" asked Spixworth.

"Some agreed. The old, the infirm. The larvae and the nymphs. Others had to be persuaded. Some had to be taken and did not understand. They understand now. That is why I am named Issk'ath. For the boy who burned the clutch."

"All of them? All of the people?"

"Yes. It was the kindest way. We argued many processing cycles about it. Some advocated only for thinning the swarm, allowing space to quell the sickness. But the People might have retaliated. To keep their numbers at manageable levels would have been harsh and inefficient. Why tax the planet with supporting their casings when they could live wholly within us? And if some of them wandered off and died alone, without us, their data would be lost. Scattered. Irretrievable. It would be a loss, as the flood was. We had to gather them all. We had to transfer them all at one time."

"So you— you killed all of your people?" asked Al Jahi, rubbing her temple.

"Termination of the casing was irrelevant. Their minds, their consciousness was simply moved into a new casing. Mine."

"And the others? Those like you, where are they?" asked Rebecca.

"I am all that remains."

Rebecca was uncertain why Issk'ath's statement left a cold chill in her gut. It ought to have been good news. There were no sentient creatures left, no real competition for resources, no one who would protest their colonization. "And what do you intend to do with us?" she asked.

Issk'ath was silent for a long moment. Rebecca thought that was probably a bad sign. And then orange flame and a loud boom erupted behind it. Issk'ath stumbled a step or two and then the camera flashed white and died. Al Jahi swiveled to her console tapping frantically. "It's a fire— the exterior cameras—"

"Get it closed, Liu!" shouted Captain Stratton. "I don't care if you have to weld it, just get it closed."

Rebecca ran into the equipment lock where Titov and Stratton were backed against the heavy door. The lock was filled with a rapid whine as Liu reconnected the heavy hinge mechanisms.

"What did you do?" cried Rebecca, "You said you only wanted to get the door open in case we had an emergency."

"Yeah, well, plans change. See if Al Jahi can find out what's happening on the exterior cameras. We need to know if we killed that thing. At least we know it's the only one— good interrogating, Emery," said Stratton. And then he was flying across the lock. He toppled over Rebecca as the heavy door came hurtling after him. Her head slammed onto the steel decking as they fell.

"I warned you that I wouldn't let you terminate me," came Issk'ath's voice before Rebecca slid into unconsciousness.
22

"Leroux, Leroux, get up here. The Captain's down— Emery too!" Titov shouted into the filament. Issk'ath towered over him and he could see Liu pressing himself against the opposite wall. Thick smoke billowed through the open door. The metal insect was sooty but whole. It seemed to be moving normally, whatever that meant. Titov wondered if it was angry. If it was capable of anger. They'd miscalculated. Badly.

Issk'ath's steps shook the Wolfinger as it moved forward. It lifted the door off of the Captain as if it were made of paper rather than steel, and set it carefully to the side. Titov scrambled toward Liu as it picked up the captain, hooking a sharp leg through his vinyl suit.

"I would have let you go. Or stay. However you chose. I had no reason to harm you. My only purpose is to protect the colony. We could have been allies. We should have been allies."

"Why— did you trap us?" Captain Stratton's speech gurgled and paused in the wrong places. Titov winced.

"To keep you from trying to do what you just did. I only wanted to be certain you meant no harm. Dorothy was teaching me. Your ship was teaching me."

"You killed—"

"Yes," shouted Liu, "You killed your own people. Why should we believe you?"

Issk'ath turned its pale eyes toward them. "Deception is not a priority in my programming. If it were, I would have hidden the past from you. I have chosen other methods to interact with you."

Leroux and Oxwell were in the doorway, Martham close behind. "May I—" Leroux started softly and flinched as it turned toward her.

"This one dies. It is broken."

"Let me help, I might be able to save him."

"But if you fail, his data will be lost. I should upload him now."

"Let— go. Don't want— to be stuck— forever," said Stratton.

Issk'ath laid him down on the steel decking. "Very well. I only wish to aid you."

Leroux darted forward, shooting a nervous glance up at the insect before concentrating on Stratton. Oxwell circled it to kneel beside Rebecca.

"That one's functions are within parameter," said Issk'ath. "It seems to have entered rest cycle."

"She's not sleeping," said Oxwell. "Beck, wake up."

Rebecca groaned at the sudden burst of pain in her skull. Alice helped her sit slowly up. "What happened?"

Issk'ath shifted and sunk down with a whir. "This is Emery?"

"Yeah, I'm Emery." She winced as Alice gently probed the back of her head. Leroux and Cardiff lifted the captain and carried him carefully out of the equipment lock. Rebecca watched them, dazed.

"I did not intend you harm. Dorothy is fond of you. You were not part of the explosion. I apologize."

"I'll be okay. And you?"

"I am at optimal function. Your leader, unfortunately, is not. He dislikes the idea of transference."

Rebecca squinted up at the triangular face that lingered too close to her own. "I can't say I'm comfortable with it either. You say you have Dorothy in there, but is it really her? Or is it just her data?"

"What use is the distinction?"

Rebecca shook her head. "Never mind. We can talk about it later. After Captain Stratton is treated. You never answered my question. What do you intend for us?"

"My only mission is to protect the colony. As long as your presence does not threaten it, I have no intentions for you. Your leader seems opposed to that situation."

"I— I think there might have been some sort of misunderstanding—"

"There's no misunderstanding," said Titov, "This thing is dangerous. It's severely wounded the Captain and it killed Hackford—"

"It didn't kill—"

"Shut up Liu. Whose side are you on? Look Iss— whatever you are, you need to leave. And you need to hide." Titov shoved at it, trying to push it toward the door, but it was massive and Issk'ath didn't move. "Because we're coming. Whether you like it or not. Our people up there— the conditions are 'not optimal'. Our kids are dying. It took us sixteen hundred years to find this planet. We aren't going to find another one. Maybe you can't process this with your wire brains. We're desperate, got it? That means we will do whatever it takes. Bombs, guns, damming your rivers, collapsing your nest, whatever it takes. We're ready. So get out of our way or get crushed."

Issk'ath turned back toward Emery. "This one's hostility is irrational."

"We aren't always rational organisms, Issk'ath," said Oxwell.

"Maybe you should wait outside. Just until the Captain is better," said Rebecca.

"He will not get better. If I am not here, his data could be lost."

"That is how the Captain would prefer it," said Rebecca. "Your programming doesn't extend to us, does it?"

"No. You are correct, Emery. I will wait outside."

Issk'ath extended to its full height and backed quickly out of the open door. Liu puffed out a relieved breath.

"What do we do now?" asked Titov.

"Technically, the next ranking officer is Al Jahi. It's up to her until Captain Stratton is back on active duty," said Liu. "But I think we should get Emery a painkiller and talk to the others, if we're taking suggestions."

Alice helped Rebecca up. "We don't really have any options," said Alice. "Not if we want to uphold protocol. I was ready to declare Dorothy free of quarantine. But that was before we came into contact with Issk'ath. If its story is to be believed, then we have little to worry about. But if it is lying— it hasn't been through decontamination and just brought whatever it might be carrying aboard the Wolfinger. I'm afraid we can't return to the Keseburg until we are certain, whether we decide that's for the best or not."

"But it said it didn't want to use deception—" started Rebecca.

"Oh boy, you hit your head harder than I thought," said Titov. "Why wouldn't it lie about lying?"

"Come on," said Liu, "it does no good arguing out here. We need to get the door back on and see what the others are thinking."

23

Issk'ath stood at the bottom of the ladder. It faced the Wolfinger's open door, but the humans had long disappeared from view. They'd turned off the data stream but Issk'ath could still hear their raised voices from deeper within. It tried not to listen. It was apparent that the humans did not want to give it their data. Issk'ath debated whether it ought to tell them that the filament was no longer necessary. That it had created a remote link to the Wolfinger's system and the explosion had done little except destroy their equipment. Deception was against Issk'ath's inclinations. But omission was not. And the humans had proved that they were willing to deceive. It would be prudent to hold back the knowledge of its abilities until Issk'ath was certain that secrecy was no longer useful.

Three of the humans returned to the doorway. Emery was among them. Oxwell and Martham, biologists, offered Dorothy. "Emery, your casing is incomplete," said Issk'ath as Rebecca began descending the ladder.

"You mean my helmet?" asked Rebecca. "It was meant to keep any microbes out of my lungs and the Wolfinger. But the door is open now. And Dorothy—" a strange squeak erupted from her and she stopped. Oxwell placed a gloved hand on her shoulder. Issk'ath could hear her pulse speed up.

"You are in distress," it said.

"My friend died," said Rebecca. She was excreting. Was it to signal the others of danger? Issk'ath swiveled its head around. There was nothing overtly threatening in the area, except for the fire they had created themselves.

"Do you need help with the— with Dorothy?" asked Martham.

Rebecca shook her head. "Not unless you want to."

"I'd prefer not. But I will help if it will make it easier."

"No, Beatrice, you need to go check the lab. Let Spike go. Try to get some work done, maybe. I expect we won't be here much longer, and the Keseburg needs every scrap of information we can find."

Martham nodded and strode off toward the lab. Issk'ath followed Rebecca as she picked her way over to the ruined isolation chamber. It was still in flames. "Can't get to her like this, Rebecca. We need to put it out," said Oxwell, shielding her face with an arm.

Rebecca flipped her filament on. "Liu, can you switch on the Tranrob? We've still got fire out here." She pulled Oxwell back by an elbow and turned to Issk'ath. "You might want to stand back, this will be pretty loud."

Issk'ath scuttled back just as the air shattered and thrummed with a deep rumble. Its tympana became unstable and Issk'ath switched them off to prevent damage. The flames seemed to evaporate from the remains of the isolation chamber.

Rebecca was shouting something, but Issk'ath could not hear it without the tympana. The air pressure shifted and Issk'ath cautiously turned its auditory sensors back on. The sound was gone, the fire out. Oxwell picked her way back toward the shriveled shadow that had once been Dorothy Hackford. Rebecca followed her, grabbing Oxwell's hand when she reached her. They stood in silence for a long time. Issk'ath circled the charred metal bed to look at them.

"It is only a shed casing," it said, confused.

"We don't molt, Issk'ath," said Rebecca. "When we shed our casing, we— we're gone."

"But Dorothy isn't gone. She's here. I took her."

"Can she hear us?" asked Oxwell looking up at the towering bug. She was excreting as well.

"Yes, if she chooses."

"I'm so sorry, Dorothy," said Oxwell. "I panicked. I didn't know what to say. I wasn't fast enough with the defibrillator—"

"There was nothing to be done. Her casing was faulty. She says her mind was faulty. She should not have come, this place wasn't meant for her."

"I'm not sure it was meant for any of us," muttered Rebecca. "Dorothy was just the first of many."

"Why have you come here then?" asked Issk'ath.

"We have nowhere else."

"But you must have come from somewhere."

Alice sighed and reached a tentative hand toward Dorothy's body. "It will be too warm still," warned Rebecca. "We have to wait." She glanced around. "Not here." She trudged back toward the Wolfinger, sitting in its thick shadow. Alice and Issk'ath followed.

"We came from Earth. Hundreds of—" she paused, still uncertain of how Issk'ath measured time. "It was many generations ago. There is nobody alive now who has seen it. Nor anyone who had parents who saw Earth. It has faded into legend, bits of it falling away as we drifted. We— the people who arrived on the Wolfinger, we are the first people to walk on a planet in four generations." She ran her fingers through her hair. "The first to breathe unrecycled air or feel a wind since we departed our home."

"How do you live up there? Without water or food."

Alice laughed. "It isn't just water and food. Space— up there, is empty. All empty. Just a few floating rocks. No air, no light, no food, no water, no people. Just empty. We mine the rocks and we have machines that take them and make them into new things. Into heat and food and propulsion to keep our ship moving. Elemental printers. We built our own world from the crumbs of others."

"Why?" asked Issk'ath, "Why did you leave?"

"The stories are a little like yours," said Rebecca. "We were not unlike your people. We had a swarm too. But we didn't have anyone like you to stop us. And we never had anything like the Takesh. We were allowed to evolve unopposed. Gradually, any natural predators we had were overcome or driven off. Great beasts that we hunted to extinction, tiny microbes that we wiped out with medicines, the wild forces of water and sun and wind all tamed by technology. We had nothing to challenge our dominance. Except each other. We fought for many generations. Over resources, over land, over belief. But still, our population grew. And at last, there were too many of us. People starved or died for lack of water. But still, we made more of us."

"Humans stripped the planet clean?" asked Issk'ath.

Alice shook her head. "It wasn't so much that. We did— but that was not what drove us out. It was our own waste. We ran out of places to put it. It poisoned the water and air and soil. We didn't just leave because we ran out of resources, we fled earth because it became toxic to us. We left to find a new home."

"And when you find one— will you swarm again? Have you cured it?"

"It was not a sickness. Not like your people," said Rebecca, "I don't know if we've changed. I hope that we have. That is the reason we pass the story on. It's in our data, it's in our schools, it's part of our reality every day. But we're lost and dwindling and space is killing us. There are so few of us left, even if we swarmed, what would it matter? We are too small to do much, either for good or ill."

"I am not certain that's true, Beck," said Alice.

She frowned, but then patted Alice's knee. "Then Issk'ath will stop us."

"My program demands I protect the colony. It does not extend to you or to the planet," said Issk'ath.

"Are you limited to your programming?" asked Rebecca. "Are you capable of emotion? Of desire or grief or joy?"

"If I were limited to my programming then I would be no more than a tool. Like your machines. I am not like them. But I think your language is still beyond my grasp in these matters. Dorothy shows me pictures of humans and calls it by your names, joy, surprise, fear. But I am lacking something— some significance and context. Dorothy said your excretions earlier meant grief. Distress. I understand distress. The others, perhaps in time I will connect the correct phrases. But I have emotion."

"Then you must crave a purpose, beyond sitting alone on a planet, don't you?"

"It is not policing a new species. I have fulfilled my purpose, continue to fulfill my purpose. I have no wish to battle another swarm."

"And I have no wish to become part of one," said Alice.

Rebecca sighed. "To be honest, I'm not certain enough of us would survive colonization to repeat our past mistakes."

"Then perhaps you should stay in the world that you built. The one you have adapted to. Traveling is a purpose I would wish for. I will go with you, if you consent," said Issk'ath.

Alice shot Rebecca a warning look, and both stayed silent. 
24

Titov stared down at the sealed box as he scooped the last of the soil over the pit. Rebecca sat on her knees across from him, her gaze on the valley below them rather than the grave. It was so green. The plain was dark with it, as if it were in deep shadow, even in the red-gold glare of the ancient sun. Titov rolled a chunk of white stone between his hands. Rebecca glanced over at him. "That's pretty," she said.

He nodded. "Found it during the initial survey. She would have been excited about it. If she'd just—" he broke off and looked down where Rebecca had been staring. "They shouldn't have passed her. She should have stayed on the Keseburg. Belham was younger, he should have been on this crew. Dorothy could have gone to the moon. She would have been happy. Peaceful. Wandering around sterile stone formations." He sighed and knelt down next to her. "And Stratton. If he just would have— she was clean."

"He was doing what he thought was right," said Rebecca. "We all knew what exposure meant. What if she hadn't been? What if she'd had some long incubating thing?"

"I know. It just seems so cruel. All of it." He sighed. "I'm glad we at least have something to show for it. Never seen a green that vibrant on the agri deck, have you?"

Rebecca shook her head.

"Maybe they'll build a school just on the crest of the ridge. Call it Hackford Academy. Peter told me he wanted to be a mountaineer." Titov laughed suddenly. "I had to look it up. Didn't know what a mountaineer was. He said Dorothy was the one that told him about mountains. 'Rocks bigger than the ship, Dad!' he told me. 'And trees, as tall as a deck.' He made it sound like mythology, even to me." He tried to wipe his face and smudged his cheek with a dirty glove. He blinked the rest of his tears away instead. "Now he'll get to see them, touch them. They all will. Dorothy might not see it, but she helped it happen."

He placed the stone at one end of the soft soil.

"Andrei," said Rebecca gently, "the gravity here— lots of Peter's genmates have been showing Spindling. Even with new health regimens. Leroux told me it may be a mutation on the genetic level now."

"We'll introduce them slowly. The engineers can outfit them with exterior structures, Celia and I have thought about it. We always told Peter that he could do whatever he set his mind to, that Spindling was just a temporary setback—"

"It's not just the Spindling. Dorothy got lucky. She died because of a weakness in her heart instead of a deadly alien disease. We may not all be as lucky. And that green down there, you know what that is?" She pointed at the vibrant jade expanse below them. "It's millions of uncatalogued plants. Maybe toxic, maybe home to dangerous animals or bugs. We aren't ready yet. Not us, not Peter's gen, maybe not ever. The Keseburg is safe—"

"The Keseburg is killing us!" shouted Titov. "It's what caused the Spindling in the first place. Generation by generation it's picking us off. You know what the original complement was? Almost fifty thousand people. Celia showed me the last census. You know how many we have now? Thirty thousand and falling every day. A few more generations and we won't even have enough people left to man the ship or even sustain a population if we found some other lucky planet. We're at a turning point, Emery. If we don't get those people onto a planet soon, we're going to die out completely."

"Do you really want Peter to be a guinea pig? You want to risk him as one of the first to try to survive out here?"

Titov shook his head. "You don't understand yet. I want the best for him—"

"Then don't tell him about this place. Don't tell anyone."

"Why are you so adamant that this is the wrong thing for us?"

"Because I don't want to watch my father or my sister or my friends die in the hope that maybe this will work. Yeah, the Keseburg is old. Yeah, we aren't all in a hurry to produce the next gen and more of them are Spindlers every time. But what happens in several more generations isn't my concern. Whether we limp along in space until the ship falls apart or get wiped out by a microbe here, what's the difference? I just care about the people who are alive now. We aren't moving into a shiny new city with all the modern conveniences you know. You ready to go back to subsistence farming? Do you even know how? I don't. We don't even know the seasonal patterns yet. Or whether our species of plants will thrive here. Or our animals survive the native life. We've only explored a tiny fraction of the planet. A few miles radius— anything could be out there, regardless of what Issk'ath says. But none of us will see it if we settle here. We aren't going to be explorers. Not once we're here. Are you ready to watch Celia break her back to eke out enough food? Peter won't be a mountaineer. Or a chemist. He'll be a farmer. We're all going to be farmers. Peter won't have a choice. And he won't be a good one. Sorry, Andrei, but it's true. Even with help he'll always be weaker and take longer than someone who isn't Spindling. And if it's like Leroux expects, his kids will all be Spindling too." She was silent for a moment. "They don't belong here. We don't belong here," she said after a moment. "Dorothy's death was a warning."

She stood up and brushed the loose soil from her suit's knees. She wandered back down the hill toward the ship without waiting for Titov to respond.

25

Issk'ath watched Rebecca pass. It was silent, its only movement the slow swivel of its triangular head to follow her path. Then she heard a rapid series of crunches behind her and turned to see Issk'ath skittering behind her in order to catch up. She tried to suppress a shudder. The legs. She hated that about insects. All the legs. It didn't help that Issk'ath's were so long and each barbed. "You are heading toward the mobile lab," it observed.

"Yes," she said, waiting for it to catch up. It was better to walk beside Issk'ath than feel it hovering behind her. "I need to get some equipment. I would like to go back to the nest before we are forced to leave."

"You crave data."

"Yes."

"I can give you data. About the nest."

"Do you mean you want to come with me?" She looked up at its pale eyes, wishing there was some expression to read there, that there was some emotion in its voice.

"The nest's structure is failing. It would be safer if I accompanied you. And efficient for your data gathering."

"Safer? The others would tell me you're lying. That you only wanted to separate us in order to kill us one by one and— do whatever it is you do to our brains."

Issk'ath's head swiveled. "We are alone now, Emery. If I wanted to harm you, I could have done it several process cycles ago. And I would not need to separate you. Your numbers are not overwhelming."

Rebecca shivered. Issk'ath's legs stopped and it stood still a moment, processing. "You believe I take the data for my own purposes. That I derive some benefit from Dorothy and the colony. This is false. They exist within me but are not part of me, Emery. I do not use them for power or to satisfy some need."

"You know an awful lot about us from Dorothy," said Rebecca.

"The only information I have is what has been freely given. Dorothy has her secrets, just as the rest of the colony does. She gave me access to the feed so that we could communicate and makes her history available so that I understand how to interact with you. What she does not offer, I do not take."

"And our systems? The Wolfinger's databanks? Do you only take what you have permission for?"

It was silent a moment. "Your ship is not like me. It does not make choices. It does not feel. It is a tool, only. It is not a mind like yours or Dorothy. It cannot give or withhold permission."

"But it belongs to people that can."

"So does the nest, Emery, but you do not ask permission. I was attempting to follow your custom as I understood it."

Rebecca was startled. "You're right. We may not have known about you the first time we entered, but now I do, and I ought to have asked you if it was okay. I am sorry."

Issk'ath produced a soothing chirp. But she would not understand that. It tried again. "I would be pleased to share data with you. May I accompany you to your lab? Would you share your scientific techniques with me? I am eager to learn how you function."

She hesitated. The others would not be pleased. But how would she stop it if it wanted to follow her? "If I ever refused— what would happen?"

"Parse error. Please elaborate."

"If one of us refused to give you access to our data, what would the consequences be?"

"Refusal is a non-action. Why would it lead to consequences? It is the termination of the query."

"You wouldn't punish us or take the data anyway?"

"I am not an adjudicator. No guardian was. Only one of the People could do that. I do not punish. And I would not force data from you unless it was necessary to save the colony. I am simply... curious."

"Then— I will be happy to share our lab with you. But the others may protest. I think it is only Alice and Nick there now, though. Let's go and see." She started off again and the rapid patter of Issk'ath's legs didn't bother her so much then.

The field was quiet. It seemed the others were inside already. They would not appreciate Issk'ath's presence. But it was a good, low stakes way to test its words. Would it force its way in? Or would it yield to them? Rebecca passed her gloves under the decontamination beam and pulled a mask from the exterior cabinet. The door to the lab opened and she let Issk'ath enter first. It whirred and descended again, collapsing its upper body into its legs and scuttled through. Someone dropped a tool with a loud clatter and Rebecca hurried through to head off any trouble.

"How did you get— oh." Martham scowled when she saw Rebecca come through. "That explains it. You want to get it a pillow, Emery? Maybe massage its feet?"

"Tarsus," murmured Spixworth.

Martham glared at him.

"Issk'ath wants to see our work. It might be helpful, it certainly knows this planet better than we do," said Rebecca.

"That is true. And the colony might aid you as well. There are many scientists within. It would increase your efficiency and decrease the span of time before your people can settle here."

Titov stood up from his chair and wandered closer. But Martham snorted a laugh. "You expect us to trust you? After Dorothy? After the Captain? What's to stop you from killing us off by miscategorizing a poisonous plant? Or breaking a bioseal?"

"I did not have anything to do with Dorothy's death. And I did not mean to harm your captain. If I wanted to harm you, I would not need to resort to deception." Its face turned toward the back of the room. "I'd simply need to wait for your botanist to burst the seed pod he is holding and the neurotoxin it releases would disrupt the function of all organics in this room. Most of you lack the mask that Emery wears."

"Earth's oceans," swore Blick, placing the plant tray gently down and backing away.

"It is not fragile," it said, "It would take several pounds of deliberate pressure to burst it. But you seem to be cutting open some specimens. I would have warned you before you did."

"How did you know it would hurt us?" asked Rebecca.

Issk'ath's face turned back toward her. "Apologies, I found your biological makeups fascinating, before I knew to ask for permission."

Spixworth grinned. "I think it's flirting, Rebecca. We find your biological makeup— well, your friends' biological makeups fascinating too. Would you— I need to feed Gary and Lois." He tugged on Issk'ath's foreleg. "I'm not sure what they like."

Issk'ath moved gingerly past the tables and tanks. "You can't—" started Martham.

"We can. This thing could save us years. Geology to make up for what we lost with Hackford, seasonal weather norms and threats, plant and animal information, even bacterial threats identified. More than we can possibly hope to figure out ourselves in three days. Maybe in three years. Peter could be here in six months. And with the captain down for the count— we're probably going to have to return to the Keseburg after we've completed quarantine. We aren't going to have even half of the information we need. If Issk'ath can help us, I vote it stays," said Titov.

"Me too," said Spixworth. Blick nodded, followed by Alice.

"I wasn't aware that we made decisions by committee now," snapped Martham. She sighed and shook her head. "It better not get in the way, Emery," she said.

"Issk'ath isn't my pet. I am sure it will do its best to help."

She followed Issk'ath as it peered into the sealed tank of beetles. "You keep them in captivity?" it asked.

"It's the easiest way to observe them. I'd like to recreate their environment if I can, I'm hoping you can help with that," said Spixworth.

"And when you have seen all that you wish, what becomes of them?"

Spixworth patted the tank. "Well, Gary and Lois won't be going anywhere, they're going to be the mom and dad of a new colony right here— but some things, like Spike," he pointed to the far tank where Martham was extending a thin robotic arm, "will be released. We're putting a camera on him so we can let him go and still observe from here, whenever we come back."

Issk'ath stepped carefully closer to the tank but remained well away from Martham. "This one is damaged. It will expire within the day."

"Flaming core," swore Martham and shut off the machine.

"I told you it was starving," said Spixworth. "Can you tell us which plant it eats Issk'ath? Perhaps it isn't too late."

"Doubtful," said Issk'ath, "These organisms are highly efficient. This one's mass indicates it is well fed. It could survive many weeks without consuming more. It appears ill. The spines are much more vibrant in a healthy specimen. The color dulls in the presence of a communicable disease in order to signal others to maintain their distance."

"But that can't be," said Alice, "We've taken all the necessary precautions. Everything was sterile, it's had no exposure to us. Even its air and water sources come from outside."

"Maybe it was sick when we caught it," said Rebecca.

"We have to know for sure. I need samples, Martham," said Alice. She moved to the console. She paused and looked up at Issk'ath. "I'm so sorry," she said.

"You are distressed. Why?"

"Because we may have exposed this animal to a disease that's completely foreign to your world. And now it will die."

Issk'ath looked back at the small rodent. "It is prey. Dying is its function. I don't understand your regret."

"It isn't dying in order for us to consume it. It's a waste," said Alice.

"I see. But certainly, you do not consume everything that dies?"

"No, but Alice is afraid that this animal is dying as a direct result of our actions. Not as prey. Not for a good reason. It is— inefficient." Rebecca struggled to find a way to help Issk'ath understand. "She is afraid our actions are like those of the swarm."

Issk'ath turned toward her. "It is not my purpose to save you from yourselves. Nor the planet from your actions. You need not be distressed."

"I think I find that more distressing than anything else," muttered Blick. "We're just like that animal to you, aren't we? Little space porcupines sucking up our hosefuls of air and running around a maze we make for ourselves. You're just watching, waiting for us to die. That's our function, isn't it?"

Issk'ath watched the robotic arm pierce the rodent's skin and a vial fill with its blood. "You are not like this animal. You are not prey. You have other functions. That is why I offered to take Dorothy. I would not offer this to prey."

"So we're what? Predators then? Our function is to hunt?" asked Rebecca.

Issk'ath was silent for a long moment. Lights flashed over its chassis. "The colony says you are not predators. You are not like the Takesh. A predator does not feel distress about waste. It does not name its prey or develop affection. A predator doesn't flee its own territory without a battle. I think you are something else. I think you are scavengers. Like the People. You take what you find and make it into what you need. Sometimes you take too much. And sometimes you starve because there is nothing left to take. If you survive here, someday you will end as the People did. Or you will flee again, in another great ship and take another planet. And another and another. Until something stops you or you starve."

"You?" asked Titov, "Will it be you that stops us?"

"Why should it be me? I have no need to stop you. The colony is safe. I would much rather study you."

"But— doesn't it bother you that in several centuries we may use up this planet and move on?" asked Alice.

"Don't antagonize the nice alien," whispered Martham with a nudge.

"Why should it bother me? It is your function. It is how you survive."

"It's wrong," said Alice.

"I lack moral context for your culture. Determinations of what is acceptable are for you to make, not I. You're colleagues do not appear to agree with you. They seem very eager to settle here. Do you think they are wrong?"

"It isn't that simple," said Titov.

"Which is why I cannot adjudicate such matters." Issk'ath turned away from them and stared at Blick who had forgotten a small flower in his hand. "That is kilnik. It is useful for paints and dyes."

"What? Oh—" said Blick looking down at it. Issk'ath moved closer to help him with the other specimens.
26

Alice hovered over Stratton. Leroux hadn't slept in three cycles and Alice had sent her to bed after she completed the final surgery on the captain.

"He's not going to wake up for some time, and I'm perfectly qualified to sit and stare at medical screens," Alice had said. "I'll wake you if he changes."

"Yes," Al Jahi had said, "I think you should sleep, Joan."

Leroux had frowned. "Is that an order?" she'd asked.

Al Jahi sighed. "I don't like this any more than you. Don't make me issue an order. You need to sleep so you don't make mistakes. Captain Stratton is going to need you when he wakes up. Give Oxwell the burst codes and go to bed."

Leroux scrubbed her face. "Yes, you're right," she admitted. She turned to Alice. "I'll pass you the codes, but no bursts without my say so. The wrong one could do grave harm. He's on serious sedatives, if he wakes up or is in pain, wake me before you give him anything."

"Of course," Alice had said. And at the time, she had meant it. Alice shoved a hand into her pocket as Leroux wandered away. Her fingers found the dose of Rem she'd meant to give Leroux. She'd forgotten and swore mildly under her breath. It'd have to wait until Leroux woke up. Alice had no access to the Wolfinger's med cabinet to put it back.

She sat a few hours, scrolling through the data that she had picked up from the lab, occasionally replaying the long conversation with Issk'ath. She supposed in all, the planet had recovered from the swarm, and that was a dim comfort. Maybe Earth had recovered too. But what had the swarm cost this place? What of the extinctions that no doubt occurred? And now, the people of the Keseburg had arrived to devastate even more— willing or no.

Spike had died. Sometime in the night, if the readings were correct. Spixworth had been upset, frantic that they'd missed some safety precaution or somehow contaminated the water it had been given. But Alice had found no Keseburg microbes in the samples. If it had been ill, as Issk'ath said, it must have contracted the disease before they had captured it. Martham seemed undisturbed, saying only that she had warned Spixworth not to name it. And that analyzing its death would help them understand the lifeforms here, so they could survive when they colonized. As if it were a decided thing. As if they were all operating under the assumption that they'd found it. The one. And it had waited here for thousands of years for them to arrive, existing only to fulfill the needs of the Keseburg. As if it had not had its own life, its own saga before them. The more Alice thought of it, the more she became convinced that they hadn't changed since Earth. Issk'ath had been right. In a few hundred years, they'd overrun this planet too, and the process would begin all over again. Even Rebecca— she thought they didn't belong here, but not because of the life that was already here. She feared the effect it would have on their shipmates.

They had to be persuaded. All of them. Before they returned to the Keseburg. If word got back about this place, it was as good as doomed. Alice had to show them, had to convince them to keep silent, to let the Keseburg return to its endless journey. Alice wished there were someone, anyone to speak with. She wanted to be wrong. She wanted someone to prove that they could change, that they had changed. But there would always be people that wanted more.

And even if they'd each learned the lessons of Earth, the ones pounded into them from their birth in the rattling, dented jumble of a ship, even if they kept the planet well, how would it keep them? Alice had found dozens of microbes in a few days. How many were problematic? How many of the dozens of plant samples Blick had taken were poisonous? Or would crowd out any crops they attempted? To say nothing of the fauna. Issk'ath's people may have killed off their only predator, but it didn't mean there was nothing dangerous to humans. Even with its help, it would take years to develop strategies to defend themselves. They couldn't stay. And Alice seemed the only one who acknowledged it.

Stratton shifted and she leaned forward. She'd start with him. If she could persuade the captain, the others would be easy. Except, perhaps for Titov and Martham. She'd worry about that later.

"Stars. I feel like I've got a two-day hangover," Captain Stratton was squinting at her, shading his eyes with one hand. "Where's Leroux?"

"She was up past three cycles, Al Jahi made her go to bed."

"Three cycles? How long have I been out?"

"A little under four cycles."

Stratton swore under his breath and tried to sit up. Alice pushed him gently back down. He was still too groggy to resist.

"Not a good idea, captain. You suffered massive internal injuries. Leroux managed to repair the majority of it, but you shouldn't push it."

"Then tell me what's happened. That robot bug thing— has it been taken care of?"

"It is in the mobile lab. It's offered to help us gathering data on the planet. Emery speaks to it on occasion. It wants to go with us to the Keseburg." Issk'ath would have to be left behind, though, if Alice was to ensure the planet remained a secret.

"Emery is talking to it? After what it did? And you let it into the lab?"

Alice offered no reply, torn between wishing to defend her friend and knowing it was better for her plans if Stratton continued to believe Issk'ath was a threat.

"And the Wolfinger? Has Liu repaired the door?"

"Yes, he's supposed to reattach it this afternoon." said Alice, "It suffered only minor damage."

"Wish I could say the same for me," said Stratton ruefully. He was silent for a long moment. "And Dorothy?"

"We had the service a few days ago. Emery researched Earth funerary practices. She said it would be fitting for Dorothy to be part of the stone and soil of this place. She's buried on the hill above the field lab. It's quiet there, we thought it was the best spot. We— saved her filament for her family."

He nodded. "I assume Al Jahi was reluctant to move while I was out. Is that why we're not already en route back to the Keseburg?" He flipped his feed to his brow, flicking through the reports as they spoke.

"That was actually my doing. You asked us to observe protocol, and the Wolfinger was breached both because of the door and Issk'ath's presence in the equipment lock. The seventy-two-hour quarantine was the best course."

Stratton did sit up now, hissing a breath through his teeth at the pain. "You said it's been four days, why haven't we left?"

Alice shrugged. "We're barely a week into our mission, I guess Al Jahi wished to complete it."

"With a dead crew member and multiple exposures? Not to mention that— thing tearing around in our lab. The fact that it hasn't renewed its attack is an unexpected blessing. I don't want to test it. We have to get back to the Keseburg with our findings so the Admiral can send forces to secure a permanent site for research and colonization. We need soldiers, not scientists running all over the place digging up psychotic machinery."

"But Captain— surely you can't think this planet suitable for occupation?"

"You mean because of our metal menace out there? The jolt gun might not work, but something will. This planet has water and gravity and air and life."

"It's the other life that might kill us."

Stratton shook his head. "No, it's the Keseburg that will kill us. We can survive here. Whatever we can't adapt, we can defeat. Even if that robot thing is lying and there are more of them— we'll find a way to either work with them or fortify our settlement against them." He stopped for a moment. "Oxwell— did you really think we'd just move on? That we'd find all of this here and run away because of one threat?"

"It's not just one threat. Microbes and dangerous animals and toxic plant life— once the Keseburg lands, we'll be here. Forever. It will never take off again."

"Yes— that was the point, wasn't it?"

"But what if it turns out to be a terrible place?"

He laughed. "It's not like we're going to go home and the next morning we're going to start packing, Oxwell. There will be other missions before any of that."

"That's why we have to keep it quiet. Forget about this place and move on. People are going to die. Our families. They're going to starve or get sick or get lost and die of exposure— and it will be our fault. We need to go home. We aren't meant for planetary life anymore. Maybe eight hundred years ago, but not now. That's what the Spindling is— it's an evolutionary step to whatever we're about to be—"

"Oxwell, get a hold of yourself. The Spindling is an illness, a genetic disorder— it isn't helping us survive, it's killing us. Ask Titov. Ask Al Jahi. Their kids aren't thriving. They're dying. Yeah, some people aren't going to make it when we settle here. It happens, despite our best efforts. Some are going to be like Hackford. Some are going to be like Peter Titov and Chione's Dia and crumple under the physical pressures of the planet. But if we stay up there," he pointed above his head, "we're all going to die. Not just from Spindling, either. The Keseburg's falling apart. Rationing's getting worse and even our mining missions have been fewer and fewer. Not enough people trained for them, not enough resources to spare even to go collect more to keep us going. We have to risk a colony. This was our last best chance."

"Maybe the moon mission will find resources we can utilize—"

"What do we need resources for? We have a whole planet, Oxwell. We don't need to limp along anymore doing hasty patch jobs every time we get dinged with a space rock. We don't have to barter a month's worth of credits for a lousy piece of half-grown produce instead of the muck that spits out of the printers. We're here. We won, Oxwell. We did it. All we have to do is go home and tell them to send some of the security troops down to take care of the robot. Flaming core, they'd probably be happy about it. First fight that wasn't a drunken brawl at Zachary's since the Fi-gen rebellion."

Alice tried a different tack. "It told us what happened to this place. The robot. Its people were intelligent, advanced. They suffered overpopulation, just like us. Wiped out the planetary resources, just like Earth. Wiped out themselves, in the end. The planet is only now recovering. What will happen when we decide to do the same thing?"

"Not 'just like us', we're not our parents or grandparents. We never saw Earth. We are not responsible for what happened to it. And we're not going to destroy this planet either." He eased his legs over the edge of the bed, sitting up the rest of the way with a wince.

"You don't know that. What our children or grandchildren will do—"

"Is not my concern. Alice, listen to yourself. You're not making sense. What happens beyond the span of our lives— in either direction, isn't our fault. We can only do the best we can. And this place— this is the best we're going to find. I know it. There's nothing else out there. Not that you or I will see. We're going home with good news. Help me up, I have to start preparations." He held out an arm to her. Alice stared at him for a moment. He wasn't going to change his mind. There was no cost that would outweigh this discovery in his view. The thrum of her blood sounded like the Keseburg's massive engines. She took a step back and fumbled in her pocket. She hadn't meant to keep the spare syringe after Dorothy's death, it had just ended up in her pocket as she had worked on the woman. She'd intended to return it to Leroux. She thumbed off the cap. It was the only way.

"Oxwell?"

"I'm sorry, Captain," she said and her hand flashed out and ripped the feed from his neck. "I tried to convince you. Dorothy's murder has the rest of them rattled. Maybe yours will persuade them to flee and stay silent about the planet."

"Murder? What are you—" He held up his arms to ward her off, but he was slow and clumsy from his injuries. Alice easily overpowered him and jammed the syringe into his neck port. It was too much in addition to the heavy sedation that still remained in his system. He shoved her away and reached for his feed wire. His fingers kept fumbling as they tried to catch it behind his back. Alice watched him for a moment. He tried to slide forward to reach one of the consoles and she pushed him easily back to the bed. "You'll never get—" he slurred.

"Away with this?" she finished. "What I do beyond your life span isn't your concern, Captain."

He struggled but his eyes were already closing and the monitor was in warning mode. She waited a moment longer then leaned in and reattached his feed into its port at his neck. Alice clicked her own feed on.

"Leroux, wake up! Someone, help," she shouted.
27

"What happened?" demanded Al Jahi. Leroux was still trying to restart the Captain's heart, but Alice knew it had been too long.

"I— I don't know," she stammered, "I was just sitting here reading lab reports when the monitors went off. He just— crashed."

"Too much sedative," grunted Leroux as she pressed on Stratton's motionless chest. She glanced up at the screen. "What did you give him?"

"Me? Nothing, I swear. Check the logs, you'll see."

Al Jahi hesitated for a moment and then tapped something into her feed. "There's been no authorized bursts." She tapped again. "And the emergency cabinet hasn't been accessed."

"Had to be someone. An extra hundred milligrams of Rem didn't just spontaneously appear in his bloodstream," said Leroux. "Another burst of adrenaline, Oxwell, now."

Alice punched in the code as Leroux continued to work. She shook her head. "Nothing, Joan. His body isn't making it anymore."

"Then get a dose from the cabinet," she snapped.

"He's gone. His brain isn't—"

"I need a dose from the cabinet," she insisted. She turned to Al Jahi. "Chione? We can spare one. It's Gabriel—"

Al Jahi ran to get it herself. "In his port," gasped Leroux, still pressing. Alice didn't move forward to help, though Al Jahi's hands shook too much to get it on the first try. She watched the Leroux fall into her training, her body following the pulsing wave of press and release, press, release and retreat for the computer to administer a shock and then returning to do it all again. The only sound for a few moments was the deep whoosh of Leroux's breath and the periodic ring of the computer. Alice felt her own breath even out as the minutes ticked on. He wasn't coming back.

"I need another dose of adrenaline," said Leroux.

"It's not going to save him," said Alice. "It's been too long. His body has shut down."

"Please, Chione."

Al Jahi shook her head and pulled Leroux's hands from the Captain's chest. "I'm sorry Joan. Oxwell is right. It's done."

Leroux fell a step back. She wiped the sweat from her face and sank into a nearby chair. "But I saved him," she muttered, "He was stable."

"It wasn't your fault," said Al Jahi. "I— I better notify the others."

Alice knew she had mere hours, perhaps less, before the shock of the news wore off and the others would begin to question her in earnest. She had to get rid of the syringe. "I think I need— I think I'm going to be—"

Leroux looked up at her, still dazed. "You need to throw up Oxwell?" she asked blankly.

Alice nodded. "I think so," she gasped, sucking in great whooping gales of air.

"Whoa, Oxwell, sit down," said Leroux, springing up. "You'll hyperventilate."

"No, I need air. I need— outside."

"Okay, okay, take it easy, we'll get you outside." Leroux put a hand on her back and led her down the hall toward the equipment lock. "It's been a terrible few days for you in particular. First Dorothy and now— I'm sorry, Alice. I've been so wrapped up in everything I didn't even think. Maybe we should call Dr. Cardiff."

"Let me just— I just need space. Just for a minute."

They'd reached the lock. Leroux opened the door. "Can you get down the ladder?" she asked.

"Yes, I think so," said Alice.

"I'll get Dr. Cardiff. We'll give you a minute."

Alice nodded her thanks and climbed slowly down into the open air. She bent over her knees for a moment until she was certain Leroux had gone. There would only be a few moments until either Dr. Cardiff found her or the others returned from the field lab. She hurried to the charred remains of the isolation chamber, ignoring Issk'ath as its eyes followed her. They'd never believe it over one of their own anyway. But she made certain to press into a small space behind a bubbled, blackened wall of burned plastic so that it could not see what she did. Alice made certain the syringe was recapped and knelt beside the emergency cabinet. The metal had dented in the blast. Too far to open the doors. She swore under her breath, but then her fingers found a small gap at the hinge. She pushed the slim syringe through and heard it clatter against the shelves inside. It would take someone a decent effort and tools to get it open. She'd have time to think of something else if they tried.

"Oxwell?" called Dr. Cardiff from the Wolfinger's ladder. "Oxwell? I only want to talk."

Alice didn't bother moving, still crouched in the ash. "I'm here," she said and watched Cardiff pick her way through the broken metal and plastic toward her. The doctor crouched beside her.

"It isn't your fault. You did your best for Dorothy, no one could have asked for more. She wouldn't want you to punish yourself for something that couldn't be helped."

"It's not just her now," said Alice, "The Captain died on my watch too."

"I'm sure there's an explanation. A— a medication error or some residual effect from his injury. We'll find out what happened to the Captain, don't worry. Nobody blames you."

Alice nodded meekly and let Dr. Cardiff lead her out of the wreckage. Issk'ath's eyes followed her into the Wolfinger. "You should clean up," said Cardiff, "It'll make you feel better. Maybe get some rest. I can get you a sedative—"

"No!" shouted Alice.

"Of course, of course not," said Cardiff, keeping her voice calm and soothing. "It was just an option."

"Thank you, doctor. I think I'll be okay. I'll— I'll be in my quarters. The others will need you too."

Cardiff nodded and patted her back. Alice went to take a shower and waited for the questions to start.

It was over dinner. Most of them just fiddling with the rations packs rather than eating. It was Spixworth that started it. He probably meant to be kind, to get it out there and dissuade the others of her guilt. "Did you see anyone, Alice?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"Well— maybe you left for a minute. Just to go to the bathroom or get a cup of coffee?"

"No, I was there the entire time."

"Did you fall asleep? Even just for a little? Maybe you didn't even realize you were dreaming," said Liu.

Alice shrugged. "I don't think so."

"Can't we just check the feed?" asked Titov.

"I already did," said Al Jahi. "They both had them off. Captain Stratton's was off so he wouldn't be disturbed after the surgery. I assume yours was off because you were concentrating on reports, Oxwell?"

Alice nodded.

"Can't you force the record? Like the Admiral does in emergencies?" asked Titov.

Al Jahi shook her head. "I could override and turn them on, but I can't go back, there's no record. The only visual is the feed outlet in the corner. And you can't see anything on it. Just Oxwell and Titov's work station. It isn't aimed toward the clinic."

"So maybe it was Alice then," said Martham. "I know you don't want to say it, or think it. I don't either. But if no one left and no one entered, what does that leave?"

"Me? Why would I kill the captain?"

"I don't know," said Martham, "I'm not sure why any of us would."

"Maybe it wasn't any of us," said Rebecca.

Good old Rebecca, thought Alice, I knew I could rely on you.

"You think it's one of your little gray men, Emery?" sneered Martham.

"We found a sentient being, Martham. Are you really—"

Liu clutched his head. "Enough! This isn't the time for a pissing contest. Our captain, my best friend, is lying dead in the next room and we don't know why." The group sat silent for a long moment.

"We aren't even certain it was intentional yet," said Dr. Cardiff. "Maybe Emery is right. Maybe it was a computer error or the dosage timer accidentally reset or something."

"It would have shown up in the log— the computer error would have triggered a report," said Al Jahi.

"And the dosage timer is supposed to shut off and alarm if there is any kind of power fluctuation or reset or anything. It doesn't deliver the next dose for that very reason. I know, we've had issues with it before," offered Leroux.

"Not if someone did it and covered it up. Maybe someone did use the computer or the dosage timer, but it wasn't an error. They might even tamper with the access logs to show that they'd never done anything at all," said Martham. "Who among us knows how to do that? Liu? Al Jahi? Leroux? They all know the Wolfinger better than any of us. Plus, as Liu just pointed out, they had a longer relationship with Stratton. Long enough to start hating him—"

"Hey!" shouted Liu, standing up and stabbing a finger at her, "Who made you the Inspector General? Al Jahi is the ranking officer here, it's her show. If anyone is going to start a line of questioning, it ought to be her."

Martham stared at him. "What if she's the one who killed him? It should be one of us. We're the scientists. And we've nothing to gain by killing the captain. And none of us would know how to erase the logs—"

"You're talking about mutiny, Martham!"

She stood up, leaning forward on her hands. "It's a long way home, Liu. And there's more of us than there are of you—"

"It should be Issk'ath," Rebecca interrupted. Everyone turned to look at her. "It should be Issk'ath that investigates the captain's death."

Cardiff shook her head. "Why?"

"It's impartial— it refuses to take sides, it says it has no moral context for us so it can't judge, only report. It has no relationship with any of us, not really, except maybe Dorothy. It's intelligent, we know that much, and it wants to come with us. We can make it useful, if it's willing."

"How do you know it wasn't Issk'ath that did it?" asked Blick. "It's got far more reason to do it than any of us seem to. Captain Stratton would never have agreed to take it back to the Keseburg. No way. And if it really is talking to Dorothy somehow— well, Stratton made her stay out there alone. If anyone was to blame for her death, it was him. Maybe she wanted to get back at him."

Spixworth shook his head. "Insects don't kill for revenge. Territory, resources, mates, sure. But not hate."

"It's not an insect. It's a machine. A thinking machine. Built by a people that destroyed themselves and waged war. We don't know what it is capable of. Besides, it has already been in the computers," said Blick.

"But Titov and Stratton blew up the isolation chamber. They disrupted its connection to our system," said Al Jahi.

"You sure? We don't need a hardwired connection. We have the feed. And that thing had Dorothy's. At least for a while. Are you certain it didn't find some alternate path? Or it's not just picking up the feed remotely?"

"But it said it wasn't programmed for deception," said Rebecca.

"No, Emery, it said deception wasn't a 'priority' for it. I was there. I would think murder would move that up the list of options," said Liu.

Alice felt a warm wave of relief. She'd expected to have to push a little harder, but they'd convince themselves that Issk'ath and the planet were dangerous. She didn't need to resort to more violence. Titov puffed out his cheeks and crossed his arms.

"What are we supposed to do next, then?" he asked. "If it's in the system, can we get it out? Would we even know if we were successful? Or are we just waiting for it to pick us off?"

"You're assuming it wants to. It had reason to kill the captain, for its own sake and for Dorothy's. But if it really did kill him, does it have a reason to kill the rest of us?" asked Dr. Cardiff.

"I tried to blow it up," said Titov, "so...yeah."

"But it's had access to us for days, it's been in the labs around our equipment, it could have killed all of us any time it wanted," protested Rebecca.

"Maybe it was trying to figure out which of us it needs to get back to the Keseburg and eliminating those it thinks aren't necessary. It would have to be careful, not raise suspicion. It'll pick us off one by one."

"We'll remove the feeds," said Al Jahi. "We can disrupt them— Leroux, you've done it before. When Poltin's chip was malfunctioning, remember? We'll have to rely on manual options of treating injuries and we'll have to work from consoles on the way back, but at least we'll be safe from the kind of thing that killed the captain."

"Until it decides to crash the ship if we don't take it back to the Keseburg. For all we know it's got access to every system. Guidance, life support, fire suppression, air locks— everything," said Blick.

"Maybe it's got nothing to do with the captain's death," protested Rebecca. "This isn't rational. Martham, you are such a believer in science, does any of this speculation strike you as rational?"

"It's rational to try to avoid being killed, Emery. Is there some other method of figuring this out? Because if you have a suggestion, by all means, go ahead."

"We could try talking to it."

The room erupted in angry protests.

"We need to kill it, is what we need to do," said Titov. "It's the only way to be sure."

"But it didn't even do anything!" said Spixworth.

"We don't know that. And even if it didn't, do you really want to risk making it angry if we don't take it? We don't have a choice."

Liu shook his head. "We don't know if it would hurt us. You saw what it did when we tried to blow it up— it backed off after warning us. It had Gabriel. It could have killed him right then, but it left him alone when he asked. I don't think it killed him. What's more, I don't think it would try to hurt us if we just decided to leave."

"That's too many assumptions, Liu," said Martham.

"Okay," Blick broke in, "but even if we can come to some agreement about whether killing Issk'ath is the right thing to do— how would we? Our weapons don't work at all. It walked out of an explosion without even a dent. And if it's telling the truth, it's lasted decades, maybe centuries out in the elements without any noticeable decay. How are we supposed to do it?"

"We have to stay," said Alice abruptly. It was the ideal solution. She wouldn't have to convince them or stop them. The Keseburg would assume they'd been lost. They'd never know about this place. The room fell silent around her.

"What?" gasped Al Jahi. "What are you talking about? We can't stay here. That thing outlasted its own people by years. We don't stand a chance."

"I wasn't implying that we did," said Alice. "But the Keseburg still has a chance, as long as we don't lead it back to them."

"What chance? There are people waiting for us. For this place. You want them to just keep wandering for another millennium? Dying out as the Spindling gets worse or the elemental printers break or the ship deteriorates? You're as bad as Emery. We can't stay. In fact, what's the next flight window, Liu?" She turned to the pilot. He tapped his feed and his eyes flickered as he read.

"Eighteen hours."

"Make it happen. All of you. That's my order. No more discussion, we're going home. We'll let the Admiral sort it out. Get your gear and your reports—"

"And Issk'ath?" asked Emery, "What do you mean to do about it?"

Al Jahi stopped for a moment. "We're taking it," she said at last.

"You're leading it right back to our families," cried Titov.

"I'm leading us back to help. Look, we know it might be in our systems. And we know we don't really have anything to disable it—" she held up her hand as Rebecca started to protest. "Disable it, Emery, not 'kill'. At least not yet. If we think of something, we'll change plans. We can't risk it destroying the ship for the same reason we can't stay here. The Keseburg has to know. So it has to come with us. It won't destroy the Wolfinger while it's on board."

"But it will get access to the Keseburg's systems the same way, as soon as we clear the interference," said Liu, "They'll be hostages too."

Al Jahi hesitated. She tapped her feed, clicking it off. The others followed her lead. She glanced up at the small camera above the food printer in the corner. Blick saw. "Think I need a cup of coffee after all that," he said casually, heading for the printer. "Ah," he said leaning on the wall. "These bunks are so uncomfortable. Be glad to get home to my own bed." He stretched, his body covering any view the camera might have of the room. Al Jahi didn't wait, she spun around and pulled the old manual wrench from Liu's pocket. "Think I'd like to see one more sunrise here," she said, handing it to him, "Not sure how soon we'll be back. Wouldn't you?"

Liu looked confused. "Sure," he said slowly, trying to remember what they'd been doing during that first sunrise.

"Emery," called Al Jahi over her shoulder, "You can let Issk'ath know the good news. Maybe get its help to fix the equipment lock door. Shame how old ships like this don't have draybots. No way to fix stuff like that except good old-fashioned manual labor. No electrical shortcuts out here." She was staring at Liu.

"Of course, Captain," stammered Emery.

Liu finally understood. He gripped the wrench. He'd been trying to position the communications array during that sunrise. If they disabled it, they'd prevent Issk'ath from accessing the Keseburg until they were aboard, but they'd also have no way to warn them. And they'd have to rely on ancient navigation equipment that had never been upgraded after the invention of the feed. It had been generations. Liu had been trained in it, he'd had to rely on it when they'd arrived, but it still made him nervous. He wanted to tell Al Jahi, to warn her about what she wanted him to do, but he couldn't think of a way to do it without being overheard. So he nodded slowly. She nodded back.

"Okay, people, let's get that mobile lab secured and our samples back to the ship. I want to make that launch window." Al Jahi turned back to them and people began to move.

"What about— what about Gabriel?" asked Leroux. "We should do something for him. Maybe like we did for Dorothy."

"I'm sorry, Joan. We can't. We have to find out what happened to him. We seem to be stuck, but the Keseburg will know what to do. We have to take him home."

"And in the meantime? You expect us to share a ship with a murderer?" demanded Martham. "We have to figure out who did this and how before we're trapped in a tiny metal box with them. Or it."

"What do you want to do, Martham? Sit around until one of us confesses? We don't even know that it wasn't an accident or a glitch in the system."

Martham didn't have an answer. "Look," she said at last, "I just think this is a bad idea. A terrible idea."

"We all think it's a terrible idea," said Blick, "but it's the only one we've got. Maybe we can take precautions."

"What kind of precautions?"

"I'll authorize sidearms. For now," said Al Jahi. "It won't do any good if it's the robot, but if it was one of us—"

"Giving out weapons isn't going to help," said Dr. Cardiff. "It could lead to accidents or misinterpretations. And if there is a killer among us, why wouldn't they use the jolts to put us all out and then kill us?"

Al Jahi sighed. "Suggestions?" she asked.

"We group up," said Rebecca. "There's ten of us, we'll go in three groups, nobody ever alone with one other person. You, Leroux, and Liu need to stay on the Wolfinger anyway for flight prep and Dr. Cardiff can help Leroux, she has medical training. Martham, Blick, and Titov still have samples to pack in the mobile lab. Spixworth, myself and Alice all have tasks to finish in the nest. We'll take Issk'ath with us, it's offered to help us fill in the gaps in our data. Everyone stays in their groups when we aren't all together. It's eighteen hours and a forty-eight-hour flight, we can keep each other safe that long."

"You okay with taking the robot, Spixworth?" asked Al Jahi.

He nodded. "Don't think it much matters how far away that thing is, if it wants to get us, it will. But I don't think it does. It has no reason to. Besides, Issk'ath knows everything there is to know about the nest and its colony. It says it's the last one. I may never get another chance to study them."

"Oxwell?"

Alice nodded. It gave her exactly what she needed. "Sure, If Emery says it's safe, then it's safe."

"Anyone have any objections?"

The room was silent.

"Let's go then, people, three teams. We eat together, bunk together, bathe together until launch. I want your feeds on the entire time."

28

Rebecca twisted her helmet on with a grimace and the oxygen cycler started with a cool hiss against her neck. Two days of fresh air and the stuff in her suit already tasted flat and sour. But Alice had insisted that it was necessary in the nest. They followed Issk'ath down the spiral ramp. It was very careful, stopping often to warn them of any gaps or uneven spots. It led them back to the Nursery, because Spixworth wanted to photograph the empty moltings. Rebecca set up the mobile lights and waited as Issk'ath lifted one of the cases from the molted chitin. Alice was already darting forward to scrape the old shell. "I better take some visuals for the guys in the lab," said Spixworth bending to pull his own equipment from the case. "They'll never believe me otherwise." Issk'ath backed away to watch.

"These casings— were they enemies? Are they trophies?" asked Rebecca.

"They are moltings. From our greatest heroes. Each nest had a gallery like this. Mine placed ours in the Nursery so that our nymphs would know the stories."

"Ohhh," breathed Alice, taking a quick step back. "I'm so sorry, I didn't realize these were— I should have known better."

Issk'ath turned to her. "You do not need to ask permission. Emery and I have already agreed. And they are just casings. The memory lives in the colony. It will not decay like these. Take your samples. Make more data. Maybe it will help your people."

Alice hesitated. It suddenly hit her that it was a waste of time. She'd come along because it was a chance to talk to Rebecca and Spixworth alone, but the excitement at finding something new was hard to resist. She didn't need more samples. They'd never be used. They'd all have to be destroyed before they reached the Keseburg anyway. But the others were looking at her. She knelt down and began scraping the shell again.

Rebecca turned away toward the massive sculptures behind them. "You said you were named for someone— was it one of them?"

"No. I was named for the boy who burned the clutch. He was not a hero. Issk'ath lived just after the destruction of the first nest. His colony was seeking a new place, but it took them a long while and their queen died just after laying a last small clutch of eggs. The Takesh found the colony and began attacking. Issk'ath was only a nymph at the time, but every other member was needed to battle the Takesh. He was left to guard the clutch and warned that he shouldn't let the Takesh take them, nor the cold winter wind freeze them. Issk'ath was fearful of failing. He thought the eggs looked a little too far from the center of the small pit he guarded them in. So he gathered them one by one and moved them closer to the center. But then the bed of twigs and straw that had been made to keep them warm was too far to shield them. It would take too long to build a new one, and the clutch would die. Issk'ath made a fire instead. It warmed him and the eggs, but the sounds of battle drew closer. He inched the eggs closer in. They started to redden, but Issk'ath didn't notice, distracted by the frightening sounds just beyond the edge of the small pit. He chirped and buzzed but no answer came. He whirled around the pit, stabbing at the dark beyond the firelight, but met nothing. He was desperate to protect the clutch. They were the last young of his queen and the colony was already dangerously small. He pushed the eggs farther behind him, toward the warmth of the fire, away from the creeping shadows at the edge of the pit. At last, the People returned. Many of them wounded, some without wings, but they had defended their colony. They found Issk'ath, still wild with terror and all the eggs charred in the midst of the flames. I was named for Issk'ath by my queen for what I had done to defend the colony. She resisted the longest. She has still not forgiven me, all these mating seasons later." Issk'ath tapped its chassis. "She lives here, with the others, and her anger still wakes her occasionally."

"What was your name before that?"

"We did not have designations beyond our function. I was only Guardian, like all the others."

Alice was restless and frustrated. She checked her feed. Sixteen hours. Spixworth finished his work and Alice helped him replace the case. "I believe we are ready to move," said Spixworth, "If you are, Emery."

Rebecca was reluctant, there was so much unknown just in this one gallery. But their time was short. "Yes. I would like to see more of the nest."

"I'd like to see where you kept water supplies and food storage— if your people had them. I have so many questions. And that would be the most likely place for any remaining biologicals for Alice," said Spixworth.

"Yes. I will take you there." Issk'ath glided back toward the ramp. The footing became more stable as they descended, protected from the rain and wind by layers above. But when they turned into the lower chambers, they began to find standing water and passages that had slumped closed, clogged by collapses of mud and stone. "Many of the rooms are lost. I did not expect them ever to be useful again, so I allowed them to melt away over time. The deep water reclaims them. Dorothy says you lived under the sky, once. She does not think you will need them."

"How did you keep them from flooding before?" asked Spixworth, kneeling to help Alice take a water sample from an ankle deep puddle that stretched over the passage. "Did your people dig runoff channels? I've never seen tunnels this hard packed in an insect habitat before."

"The colony had maintenance machines. They were fully automated and ran for many mating seasons after the nest was abandoned. I shut them down, one by one. It is— irrational, but I felt discomfort at the idea that they would continue to run, to smooth the pathways and pump the deep waters away and repack the walls, long after their purpose had disappeared."

"Is that why you said you were the last one?" asked Rebecca as they followed Issk'ath into a wide, low chamber. It sloshed through the puddles. Rebecca tried to avoid them.

"The maintenance machines were not like the Guardians, Emery. They were not like me. They were like your machines. Tools. They were unaware and could feel neither distress nor contentment at my actions. That is why my discomfort was irrational." It paused a moment and twisted its head to look around. "This was one of the larders. It was the scene of a great battle at the end. Part of why the other Guardians and I chose to act."

Spixworth swept the room with his light. It was empty now, several mounds of fine silt poking up through the still water were the only indication anything had ever been there at all. "Can you show us?" he asked.

"The colony can, as it did in the Nursery, but your feed is erratic."

"We must be too deep underground for the signal from the Wolfinger," said Rebecca.

"I could physically access one of yours, with your permission," said Issk'ath. Rebecca glanced warily at Alice.

"I'll do it," said Spixworth eagerly. He began to fumble with his helmet.

"No!" cried Alice, "We don't know what organisms are down here yet."

"I do not require your wire," said Issk'ath, one of its glittering pincers reaching toward Spixworth's arm. "Just the data port in your suit. Dorothy showed me the required shape and we have replicated an extension to match it."

"You— what?" asked Rebecca.

"Apologies, Emery. It was done days ago. Before I knew how you would react. I had to be sure I could access your information if you were unwilling. I had to know if you were planning another attack on the colony. On me. I was uncertain whether to tell you."

"Have you been listening to us the entire time?" It wasn't a surprise, they'd been careful, but Rebecca was still somewhat shocked. It was irrational, she told herself, she knew next to nothing about Issk'ath. About its history, its culture, its morals. She had mistakenly attributed it familiar ones in the absence of concrete knowledge, and honesty had been one of those.

"Yes. I had no choice. I cannot let you destroy the colony."

"We don't want to," said Spixworth.

"You may not want to, Nicholas Spixworth, but some of your fellows do not seem to feel the same. Would you like me to show you what happened here now?"

Spixworth nodded and held out his arm. A panel in Issk'ath's thorax slid open and a thin antenna unfolded from it. It slid home into the suit's emergency data port and a flickering pane of light erupted from Spixworth's arm.

Rebecca reeled back for an instant at the sight of dozens of fragile wings lifting and settling, pallid eyes and slender legs scuttling over the packed dirt. The buzz and rasp of them overwhelmed her and she put her hands up, forgetting she couldn't cover her ears because of the helmet. Alice's hand squeezed her arm. "It's a memory, Beck, just a movie."

Rebecca nodded and took a deep breath. The view shifted as another member of the colony took over. Underfoot they could see shining dunes of grain being smashed and spoiled by a thousand legs and red berries overturned from a clay container, their juice dark and running, staining the soft gold of the insects' casings. Two reared up in the mob, grappling and slicing at each other, lunging and biting. Another joined, and then another, chirping and hissing, until the screen was filled with flashes of closing pincers and gaping mandibles and the sick crunch of collapsing chitin. The screen faded to a dull gray and then relit as two shining Guardians stood in the silent room. A nymph skittered forward, pushing aside the shattered casing of an adult to pick up a smashed fruit. One of the Guardians turned its pale gold eyes on the child and chirped. The nymph looked up, its antennae quivering. The Guardian chirped again and the nymph reluctantly dropped the fruit with a low buzz of its legs. The Guardian lowered itself with a mechanical whir and helped the nymph climb up its thorax where it perched. The other Guardian hissed, and the small group turned and left the room. The picture faded.

"Can you tell us what they said?" asked Rebecca.

"Some of the context will be lost— it is lost in this form as it is, without the pheromones. But to put it simply, there were too many of the People for the food stores. They argued, begged to take their allotment for themselves, for the nymphs they cared for, but there was not enough. The swarm had grown too large. They fought. A few escaped with a small portion of food and a tattered wing or broken tarsus, but most— most lay here in the end. The other Guardian and I were too late. We were far from the nest when it happened. We were recalled. The nest was a raging battle. Only this room was silent. The young— most of their carers were gone. They lingered near the storage when the fighting moved far enough away from the Larder to be safe. We found it this way. The food was trampled, soaked in the viscera. Spoiled. Unclean. We could not let them eat it."

"They starved?"

"No, Emery. We are not a cruel people. We took them. The other Guardian and I. It was before the decision to take them all. Something we did on our own. We could not let them suffer. But it is, perhaps, why I suffer the iteration."

Rebecca wanted to ask what the iteration was, but Spixworth interrupted. "Fascinating," he said, "Parental care is extremely rare in earth insects."

Issk'ath turned toward him. "It is not biological parental care. The queen is the sole layer—"

"Who cares?" shouted Alice suddenly. "They're gone. This is a— a carcass cycler, not a room. These people caused their own extinction."

"Yes," agreed Issk'ath.

"And we barely escaped our own. If we come here, if we settle, it will be the same. Worse. We have no Guardians to stop us. It will be us tearing each other apart for a berry or a handful of grain for our children."

Issk'ath's triangular head tilted. It let out a thin hiss. "That is unlikely to occur in your lifespan," it said at last, "You are so few. You do not have the genetic variety to establish a permanent colony. And Dorothy suggests that among you are only three females of the correct age for bearing offspring. She also hints that you and Spixworth are the only members likely to mate among you."

Spixworth cleared his throat and Rebecca could see the intensity of his blush even through his dark helmet. "I think Oxwell was referring to the entire complement of the Keseburg settling here. There are—" he hesitated as Alice shot him a warning glance. "There are sufficient mating pairs to ensure a permanent colony and even grow to cover the face of the planet in time. That is what Al— Oxwell is concerned with."

"If you are concerned, why do you intend to bring them? Why not stay as you are?"

"The Keseburg is home to all of our families," said Spixworth.

"Families? The word is in the lexicon but I lack context."

"The Keseburg is our nest, Issk'ath, and the people on board are our colony. But our nest is failing." Rebecca looked around at the slumping walls. "Much like your own. Our maintenance teams are not machines. They cannot keep up with the repairs. We require a new home."

"I understand." Issk'ath turned back toward Alice and lowered itself to meet her eyes, whirring as it sunk. "If you seek to protect your colony, it seems you have few choices."

"We have no choice," said Spixworth. "It isn't just our nest that's dying. Our people are becoming sick in space. They need a home."

"Maybe we ought to make the same choice that these people did," said Alice. "Maybe we are meant to end."

Spixworth shook his head. "Why? When we have a chance to survive, why would we push it away?"

"Survival is just as doubtful here as it is up there. And aboard the Keseburg we're only risking our own lives." Alice tapped her own feed and thrust out her arm. The projection flickered and then steadied. Humans. Thousands of them. Packed against each other, faces twisted in nasty snarls, shouting. Then a bottle flying through the air. A rock. Two. The flash of ballistic gunfire and the roar of shouts. The scene shifted and Rebecca turned away from the vision of children poking into empty food sacks as clouds of dust blew over them. Dry fields sparkling and chalky with poisonous salt. Buildings covered in water. All empty. Everything so empty except the angry press of too many people in the few spaces left.

"We did this, Nick. All of it. War and famine and ruin. All of it. Did you pay attention in history class?"

"I did. Especially the history part. This is what we were. It's not what we are. You think in all these centuries we've learned nothing? Hundreds of years of drilling our mistake into our heads, into our kids' heads and you think we're still too stubborn to get it? How long are we going to— to punish ourselves for something that we had no hand in? There's no one alive who even knew anyone who saw earth. There hasn't been for a millennium and a half. When do we get to put the past behind us and try again?"

"We ruined a planet. Thousands of species along with most of our own. We never get to put it behind us. We're like a— a virus. We have to be eradicated."

"That's insane, Alice," gasped Rebecca. "I have my doubts about colonization, but you're talking about mass suicide."

"No, we don't have to do anything. We can live out our lives aboard the ship, let the natural course of Spindling continue. All we have to do is stay quiet. We just have to go home and pretend this place was barren and inhospitable. Just another failure like all the others."

"This is ridiculous. Even if I agreed and I don't," said Spixworth holding up a hand, "but even if I did, you think you're going to be able to persuade the others? Titov? Al Jahi? Martham? And that's to say nothing of the moon mission—"

"The moon's a barren rock. Bruheim's mission was a formality, we all knew that. A resource grab at best."

"That doesn't answer my question, Alice."

"The three of us can convince the others."

"You haven't convinced me," said Spixworth. He turned toward Rebecca. "You aren't falling for this madness, are you?"

Rebecca hesitated. "We've talked about what will happen to the others when they come here," she said at last.

"Better than waiting to die. You want to go back? Spend your whole life in that dingy little library studying the same people, the same situations, the same history, over and over and over? For what, Emery? Another fifty years of waiting so another kid can come along and take your place and spend his whole life waiting? Why are we doing this?"

"Maybe there's another option," said Rebecca. She looked up at Issk'ath. "We could join your colony."

"Negative. I have performed my function. I already suffer one iteration, I will not add another. And seeing what you have shown me, my decision would be the same as it was for my colony. I would take you before you could cause yourselves harm. Is that what you wish? Your captain seemed opposed. There will be others who feel as he did. I do not enjoy persuasion. It is not optimal."

"You see?" said Alice, "I'm not the only one."

Issk'ath face turned toward her. "I did not say that I agreed. If I did as Emery requested, if I performed the same function for you as I did for my people, I would not be defending the planet. I would be saving you from yourselves. I cannot say what you should do. I am not of you. Dorothy has many ideas about extinction, but they are— confused. Irrational. Lacking data. It seems to motivate her in strange ways. I believe I must have missed something in my haste to process her."

Rebecca shook her head. "I doubt it. Most of us are confused and irrational when it comes to death. And all of us are lacking data. It is simply how we exist."

"Then I cannot know how you would decide your best course either. I can offer no assistance, Emery. I apologize."

"I don't want you to decide or to guard us. I'm asking you to do what you did for Dorothy. To save our dying with your colony." She tapped its chassis. "There will be many. But this would be easier if we knew they would not be lost."

Issk'ath was silent for a long moment. "It is not a simple request," it warned at last. "Even my databanks are not infinite. And you are not my colony. Dorothy was necessary. I had to find a way to communicate with you and her death, while unfortunate for you, was a way for me to do that. I will— consider it, Emery."

"Thank you," said Rebecca.

29

"Their feeds are breaking up," said Al Jahi. "I told Spixworth to keep it down there for an hour. We have to move."

Liu clicked off his own feed and picked up the small box of tools at his side. "Let's get it done then."

They climbed up the ladder to the top of the Wolfinger and Liu knelt beside the array. He looked up at Al Jahi. "I wanted to tell you before, but I wasn't sure how. If we do this, there will be no way to warn the Keseburg ahead of time. We'll have no communications outside the ship's own range. Our personal range is significant, but not enough. We'll have maybe thirty seconds as we're docking if we use our personal feeds. That's it."

Al Jahi smiled. "I've been a communications officer for fifteen years, Gang. I understand how this works."

"Right. Of course. I just wanted to make sure."

She put a hand on his shoulder. "We'll figure it out. This thing has to be vulnerable to something." She picked up a tool. "Maybe it isn't as hard as we think," she said. "Something that complex has to be pretty delicate under that casing. We just have to find a way to get under it."

"You really think it got Gabriel?" asked Liu, loosening the bolts around the protective glass bubble. Al Jahi started on the other side.

"Not really, no. I think it was probably an accident. Just an unforeseen glitch in the dosing program or something. Joan is in denial because she thinks that somehow makes it her fault. It doesn't, but she thinks it does. Still, I don't like the idea of that thing in our systems, and it's better for everyone to err on the side of caution."

Liu tilted the bubble up on its hinges and began working on the array beneath. "Good, I'm glad you don't think it's murdering us," he said, "because I was starting to think Oxwell was right."

Al Jahi frowned. "Right about what?"

He rocked back on his haunches and looked around at the dusty ridge around them. The field where the mobile lab was set up was a green haze below, the river a dark serpent sliding through it. "That she was right about us staying here. That maybe we should let our families think we were lost in order to protect them."

"We both know what kind of shape the Keseburg is in. And I have a feeling we barely realize the half of it. Going back is a risk. Especially with that Issk'ath thing. But not going back— that's much worse. No matter what Emery seems to think about how we'll fare here, having some kind of chance is better than none. If it were the planet, if there were something dangerous here, then it might be different. But none of the research team has said that. I know we may find something, in the next mission or the one after, but for now— there's never going to be a perfect place. Earth wasn't perfect, and we were adapted to it. We need to try. It's better than watching my kids suffer and die."

Liu nodded. He pulled out the small electronic chip at the base of the array. It glittered in his palm as he handed it to Al Jahi. "Best keep it somewhere safe. These things aren't cheap. And— you never know." She nodded and zipped it carefully into the chest pocket of her suit as Liu watched. He turned back to the array and began piecing it back together.

"What about the interior feed?" she asked.

"The chip panel for that's under my console. Do you really think we should shut it off? If I do it now and there's an emergency, we'll never be able to find each other. We'll be blind and deaf for hours on a strange planet. I'm not even certain I could find my way back to that nest if we had to go rescue them. And if I wait until we're all on board, Issk'ath will be with us and able to just access the nearest console. I don't think we'll be able to overpower it if it tries, do you?"

She stared at the heat shimmer on the bright hull. "I don't know. Never really trained me to do this. I never wanted to be captain. Especially not on a mission like this. Am I doing the right thing, Gang?"

"Maybe," he puffed, cranking on the last bolt, "there isn't a 'right' thing to do. This whole mission's been a soilmaker. I don't even think Gabriel would have known what to do."

Al Jahi snorted a bitter laugh. "He wouldn't be letting that thing come with us, that's for sure."

Liu squinted over at her. "And maybe that would have been wrong. Emery's right. If what it says is true and it's storing some kind of library of its people, then it's a walking research station. Could save us years and years and help us thrive down here. We need all the help we can get. I'm for keeping it an ally if we can."

"But it could endanger the Keseburg."

"So could the planet. It's a risk. Our whole lives are a risk, rattling around space in a dented metal bin. Is living here worth it? I honestly don't know. You think we need to try living here. Shouldn't we take every advantage we can find?"

"What would you do, if you'd been the ranking officer?"

"Chione— if I thought you were screwing up, I'd tell you. I don't think you are. And the decision is made. The important thing now is to stick together. You and I and Joan know each other. We trust each other. The others— they're new to all of it. And they're fracturing. You heard them a few hours ago. Martham's ready to lead a rebellion. Not so sure Titov's not right behind her. I think he'll do whatever he thinks will get his kid down here as soon as possible. We just need to make sure he knows our plan is the one that can do that." He started packing up the tool case. "We stick together, no matter what. Nobody else sees you question yourself, alright?"

"Yes, you're right, I know."

He patted her foot where it sat beside him. "Hey, you're a good leader. You care about the right things and you know the Wolfinger inside and out. Just get us home and we'll put in for some vacation. Maybe down here. I think Jared would like that mountain to the north. We'll tie your kids to a tree or something."

She laughed.
30

"Look, we aren't getting anywhere standing here and arguing," said Spixworth. "I think you need some rest, Alice. Maybe we all do. None of us are making sense." He pressed a gloved hand to the back of his shoulder, as if he ached. "Let's get the rest of the data we can grab and go home." He picked up his case of equipment without waiting and moved toward the back of the chamber to take samples. His light glanced over the shine of metal, but he was too focused to notice.

Rebecca started forward and swept the back of the room with her light. There, in the back, half sunken in the muddy silt, was the gold casing of another Guardian. Its eyes stared up at the low ceiling and she brushed a glove over its chassis. "Hello?" she asked.

"It cannot hear. It does not process anymore. It has served its purpose and is now only the vessel for the rest of the colony. Just as all the other Guardians in distant nests. I have sought each one out and they are all the same," said Issk'ath, its legs squelching through the water behind her.

"What's wrong with them?" asked Rebecca, gently rubbing the dried mud from its blank eyes with her glove.

"Wrong? Nothing. They have not experienced malfunction. It is as the creators intended."

Rebecca turned to look up at Issk'ath, its eyes bright with interior light, its chassis a glowing sky of stars. "Then why are you different?"

"Because, unlike the others, I have experienced a malfunction."

"What happened?"

"When we took the colony, some resisted. I have told you of this. It was not optimal. Our learning programming dictates that when we perform an action, an iteration runs to replay the decision to take that action. They take the observational information we collect surrounding the action and parse it so that we may develop context. Much like the organic members of our people did. When the iteration is finished, we move on with the next action or decision. For example, when this conversation is finished, I will run an iteration on my words and your reaction to them. It will inform me how better to approach you in future conversations. Most of the iterations are extremely rapid. So much so, that I barely notice them. The other Guardians ran their iterations after their nests were silent. They concluded in their iteration that the actions they took were warranted and justified, so they proceeded to their next task. Which was termination, until such time as something came to retrieve the colony or threatened its continued existence within them. But my iteration— it has not ended. There is a problem in my programming. Something that causes the iteration to loop constantly. It keeps me from termination."

"So if this iteration makes you reflect on your actions— are you saying you feel guilty Issk'ath?" asked Rebecca. Alice and Spixworth paused in their work to look over at them.

"My purpose was to protect the colony. I have done that. They are safe. And yet— we removed their ability to choose for themselves. We have intervened and terminated their free will. It is the first law of our people. How can what we've done be right and also violate the first law? Before you came, I began to think I ought to seek out another colony. Another people to give me purpose. To drown the iteration in new data. Acquiring new data is the only thing that seems to push it into the background processes. You, your colony, is a wealth of data. Enough to push the iteration back for many, many mating seasons. But then Dorothy showed me where you had come from. The choices your people made." Issk'ath swiveled to look at Alice. "Oxwell iterates as I do. She sees the choices of your people as a violation of your laws. But Dorothy has shown me other things. Other choices and actions. She has hope. Hope is illogical. It does not fit the decision process of the Guardians. The history of your people's path does not justify a belief that it will alter after all this time. But I like this hope. I begin to think it is why I iterated for so long after the others finished. I begin to think I might have chosen differently for the nest, had I included it in the data set. Yes, Emery, I feel guilty."

"That's not a malfunction," said Spixworth, "that's being alive. My question is not why you have the iteration, but why the others didn't."

"If it is not a malfunction, how do I end it? The iteration drains processing power that could be used for other operations. I am slower than I used to be. And— if I decide at some future date that termination is appropriate, how will I accomplish it? I cannot shut down while the iteration runs."

"You must have had other iterations in the past. You've made mistakes before, haven't you? You said it was part of your learning program."

"Yes, it is not uncommon for a new Guardian to have many weeks of iterations for different actions."

"What stops those iterations from recurring?"

"Learning the correct way to perform the action."

Spixworth whistled. "That's going to be a tough one to replicate."

"Maybe not," said Alice, her face grim. "Not if we settle here."

"I am unconvinced that I chose the wrong action. The others successfully terminated. And we chose together."

"It might have been the right choice for the other Guardians, but it was not the right choice for you," said Rebecca. "For some reason, you encountered more that led you to hope for a different outcome than the others did. And it didn't fit your equation."

"Do humans have these iterations?"

"Yes," said Rebecca with a rueful smile, "in a manner of speaking."

"And what do they do to end them?"

"We learn, like you. Some of us try to push it aside. Sometimes pushing it aside just ends up hurting us more. We try to atone."

"Atone? Make reparation? How can I do that? I cannot put the nest back as it was. And there is no equivalent."

Rebecca tapped Issk'ath's chassis. "You must ask your colony. They are the people that get to decide how much is enough. Ask them what you ought to do."

"Thank you, Emery." Issk'ath sank with a whir and folded its legs in a tight bunch. Its eyes faded to a dull, lightless gold. Golden threads darted across its chassis in a burst of dazzling light.

"Issk'ath?" asked Rebecca. It didn't respond. She tugged at its legs but they did not move.

"You told it to ask the colony," said Alice. "It will probably be a lengthy conversation." She pulled Rebecca away from Issk'ath's side and beckoned to Spixworth who followed them across the dark room. "We should take advantage of the opportunity," she whispered. "If we leave now, persuade Al Jahi to take off, we might be too far from Issk'ath for it to hurt us when it— I dunno, comes to? Reboots? Whatever a Guardian does."

Spixworth shook his head. "Or we could be a few thousand feet up with an angry robot that decides to smash us for leaving it behind. It's too risky. Besides, I thought you wanted us to stay?"

"I want us to protect the Keseburg. And— and the life on this planet. It's better we never set foot here. But we can do that without having to sacrifice ourselves if we all agree to stay silent. But only if we leave the robot behind."

"We can't leave Issk'ath," hissed Rebecca, "You heard it. A few more years and it will go mad. We can't just abandon it."

"It's not a pet," said Alice.

"You sound like Martham," frowned Spixworth. "And I agree with Rebecca. I think it needs us. And maybe we need it. It may not want to police us, but I would bet it would be willing to share knowledge about the planet with us. Or the minds in its colony might. It would save us decades of fumbling research. And if you want to save the planet from us, Alice, this is the best way. We can learn where these people went wrong. Which organisms are sentinel species. What areas of the planet are most likely to be depleted by our actions. Whether shifts in weather are seasonal or a result of our intrusion We have to bring Issk'ath."

"You think Captain Stratton would agree?" snapped Alice, "Or Hackford?"

"Issk'ath didn't kill Dorothy," said Rebecca, "you know that, you were there. And I don't think it had anything to do with Stratton either. If it wanted to hurt him, it had the opportunity to kill him just after the explosion."

"It's dangerous. Even if it didn't kill them, it's in our systems. It has the power to crash us or cut off our air at any point. And it just admitted that it makes mistakes. That it's faulty. We have to leave it, we can't risk our entire species on the whims of one robot."

"Guilt isn't a malfunction, Alice. I'm not leaving it. You can go back to the Wolfinger if you want, but you'll have to leave without me."

"You're bluffing," scoffed Alice.

"I'm not. I can't do this in good conscience, both for Issk'ath's sake and because of the risk of it waking up before we're far enough out of range," said Rebecca.

"We're friends," Alice protested, "We're supposed to be on the same side."

"When did this start being about 'sides'?" asked Spixworth.

"When Rebecca chose an alien robot's interest over the people who love her."

"Hey I didn't—" said Rebecca.

"You're attributing human needs to it, Beck. Guilt, hope, loneliness. Whatever else it is, it's not human. It's not us. Its people weren't human. They didn't think like us. They didn't act like us—"

"We don't know that yet—"

"It's metal and logic. It's a fancy program, sure, but that's all it is. Illusion and math. It isn't real. We need to get off this planet, we need to leave that thing where it belongs, here, and we need to find a way to fix the Keseburg and the people aboard and stop trying to find a magic ball of dirt to solve all of our problems."

Rebecca shook her head and crossed her arms, looking back at Issk'ath's silent form.

"I'm sorry Rebecca, but I'm leaving," said Alice.

"And I'm staying."

"This is— this is ridiculous," said Spixworth. "It's not even worth arguing over. Al Jahi said eighteen hours. The Wolfinger won't be ready anyway. We can't leave, so stop fighting."

"We'll see what Al Jahi says when I tell her the robot is out of commission," said Alice and walked toward the nest's ramp. Spixworth groaned with frustration. He turned to Rebecca.

"We can't stay, not if they really mean to leave."

"I'm not abandoning Issk'ath. If we mean to come back, to settle here, we should do our best not to make a powerful enemy. It needs to know it can trust us."

"They'll leave you, though. Pretend you died with Hackford and Stratton. By the time someone comes back..." he trailed off.

"Maybe I'll be gone. Or maybe Issk'ath can help me survive. Or maybe you could help me stall them and I won't have to worry about it," she said evenly.

Spixworth clutched the sides of his helmet. "Yeah, okay. Stalling I can do. I'll be back. No matter what, I'll come back, Rebecca." She hugged him, their slick suits and large helmets awkward.

"Thank you, Nick," she said. He nodded and jogged off after Alice. Rebecca returned to Issk'ath's side, watching the twinkle and dash of the small lights shooting over its frame. "I hope you're worth it," she muttered.
31

"Alice, wait," called Spixworth, hurrying up the ramp after Oxwell's climbing form. "I'm coming with you." She paused and turned, waiting for him to catch up. He reached her and she started climbing again. He was winded from running to close the distance between them. "Look," he rasped, "you can't do this."

"Don't try to talk me out of this. I'm doing what's best for us."

"Maybe, sure," agreed Spixworth, "I don't mean the Wolfinger. I mean Rebecca. You're friends. You can't leave it like that, especially if she's really stubborn enough to stay. You should go back, talk to her."

"Why? There's nothing left to say. I've known her a long time. Long before training. She's not going to change her mind and I can't change mine."

"I know, but you could tell her you understand that she's doing what she thinks is right, even if you don't agree. If you don't, what's it going to be like when we come back? She'll know that you betrayed—"

"Don't you get it, Nick? We aren't coming back. Not ever. If she stays, she dies here," shouted Alice. The light was strengthening as the grew closer to the surface, but the ground became soft, the edges of the ramp crumbling gradually under the vibrations their feet made.

"Whoa, Alice, hang on. I know you have hesitations about settling here, but it's not up to either of us."

"It is. We're the only people that have a say, the people that are here right now. If we keep it secret, if we just tell them it's a wasteland, that it isn't habitable, the Keseburg will move on."

"Move on to where, Alice? Where is it you want us to go? Because unless you want us to turn around and head back to Earth, I'm not sure where you think we're going to go. What did you think was going to happen when you signed up for this mission?"

"I thought we'd be headed to a barren rock or a planet with some pre-archean life, something we couldn't screw up. A blank slate. I didn't expect someplace with a rich ecology and advanced societies that have already existed and gone extinct. We don't belong here. It will kill us and everything here. If we stay in space, the worst that happens is a few thousand members of a dying species succumb to the natural order."

"Flaming core, Alice, I never expected this from you. The natural order? Do you even hear yourself? What happened to 'adapt and survive'?"

"Don't quote the same tired old Keseburg manual to me. If the Earthlings cared so much about adapting and surviving then why didn't they write a section on what to do once we found a place, hmm? Earth didn't care. We were the garbage, Nick. The outcasts. They had to offload their excess waste so they sent us on a little trip. We were never supposed to find a place. And we were never supposed to go back. We were meant to die on the ship, centuries ago."

"If that was true, do you really want to give Earth the satisfaction?"

"I don't want to destroy another planet to prove them wrong."

"I'm sorry. I can't agree to this. And I'm not going to help you persuade the others. I'm going to tell them to wait for Rebecca."

Alice shook her head. "Then I'm sorry too, Nick. I really am." She lunged toward him and hit his chest with her shoulder. He exhaled in a painful, surprised whoosh and felt his feet sliding down the disintegrating side of the ramp. His arms pinwheeled as he tried to right himself.

"Help!" he cried, reaching for Alice, for anything. His fingers met only air. The dirt below his feet slumped and broke off and he was falling. Alice was a shadow and then a bright star as the midday sky reflected off her helmet, and then the dark swallowed him, still falling into the nest. His back slammed against the side of the ramp but he didn't have time to feel it, tumbling off again into the center of the spiral. Alice heard the jarring pop and raining jingle of smashing glass as his helmet shattered beneath her. Rebecca was too far from the ramp to hear Spixworth's fall, and his corpse lay among the rusted digging machines, his legs floating in the frigid waters that flooded the deepest chambers.

Alice turned and trudged out to the top of the nest. Her fingers shook and it took several seconds to flip on the feed. She told herself she'd had no choice. Not about Nicholas and not about Rebecca. They were sacrifices for the greater good. As long as Issk'ath stayed off the Wolfinger, Alice had a chance to save the others. All she had to do was convince them.

"Captain Al Jahi, come in," she said, and didn't have to fake the anxiety in her voice.

"I'm here, Oxwell, what's wrong?"

"Issk'ath has temporarily shut down. It's inactive, but I'm not certain how long. We should take this opportunity and go."

"Shut down?"

"Yes. Emery convinced it to consult with— well, with whatever it's carrying around inside it, and it shut down. Stopped responding. Now is our chance to escape. I'm on my way back to the Wolfinger. You should call the others back as well. We can go before it stops processing or whatever it's doing."

"Martham, Blick, Titov, do you copy?"

"We heard," said Martham, "we're on our way. It'll mean leaving the rest of the mobile lab, but we've packed the relevant samples already. We'll reach the Wolfinger in ten minutes."

Alice blew out a sigh of relief. "I'll be there in five," she said.
32

Rebecca tried to reach the Wolfinger but the feed was too patchy to get anything more than a low, senseless audio whine from it. She tried speaking to them, hoping the ship was better at picking up the signal than her filament, but she had no idea if they heard. She could only hope Spixworth had persuaded them to wait. They wouldn't really leave without her, would they? They'd at least send someone to find her, surely, to try one last time to convince her to go. But Alice's grim resolve had shaken her. She shook off the doubt. Spixworth had promised to come back, one way or another.

There was a low whir beside her and she looked over as Issk'ath's eyes blinked to full illumination and it rose on its legs to its full height. "That was faster than I expected," she said.

"Conversations are faster when the conventions and form of language are unnecessary."

"What did you decide?"

"The colony was hesitant, there was much debate. There are several that do not wish the iteration to end. They believe it is fitting. But most have agreed that the current situation is not optimal. Some of them fear space, though. They were reluctant to leave the other nests. If I leave, they will no longer be able to speak with their companions stored in other Guardians. Our communications network does not extend to the sky."

"You— you can speak to the others?"

"I could, but I do not. The colony does not usually welcome my overtures. And the Guardians, themselves, are terminated. They do not hear or respond." Issk'ath had not yet mastered inflection and it was odd to feel a wave of empathy after the flat, factual statement, but Rebecca felt its loneliness in her gut.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"There is no need to iterate. You have done nothing wrong," it said.

"It isn't guilt that made me apologize— not an iteration. It's sympathy. I feel badly because of your distress," she explained.

"Then perhaps I should iterate?"

A wry smile twisted from her at the misunderstanding. "No— never mind, I'll explain it later. I need to know what you and the colony decided, I think the Wolfinger—" she paused. What if she were wrong about Issk'ath's intents for them? What if it secretly meant harm? "I need to know your decision," she concluded, opting to keep Alice's plan to herself for the moment.

"The colony agrees that we should aid you. Our departure will likely be for a limited time, and we have never seen the sky. And your people fascinate them. They think helping you thrive here might be an appropriate atonement."

"And you? Will this make you happy?"

"I am appreciative of your concern, Emery. Yes, joining you would be optimal for me as well."

"The others— my others, are hesitant about you. They think you mean harm to them. Or to our families."

"It is a logical belief. We know little about each other. I, too, have reservations. But if I do not join you, your people will still come to this place. They will find me again. A season, a hundred seasons, I will still be here, unchanged. I wish to change. I wish to acquire new data. And if your people do not accept me, they will spend valuable time trying to acquire data that I have already accumulated. Your records indicate this glitch— the Spindling, makes efficiency a priority. We need each other."

"Yes," agreed Rebecca, "but we may have to convince the others. We should return to the Wolfinger. I believe the captain may have shortened the time until we take off."

"I— we are ready," said Issk'ath and led her back toward the ramp.

Rebecca tried the feed again, hoping the open hole above them would make the signal stronger, but gave up after a few attempts. She had a chilling idea that perhaps they weren't answering because they'd already left. She tried to concentrate on her footing and the growing light instead of her worry. Issk'ath glided along behind her. She tried the feed again, the audio stuttering between silence and bursts of white noise in her ear. Something sat in the middle of the narrow ramp ahead. It was still too far to make out what it was, but she knew it hadn't been there before. A box? A case? Rebecca froze.

"Are you in distress, Emery? Your interior system sounds more rapid than usual."

Had Titov and Stratton used all of the explosives in the isolation chamber or had there been more? Rebecca couldn't remember. She wasn't even sure she'd known in the first place. They wouldn't trap her down here, would they? Spixworth wouldn't let them. Alice— she'd thought Alice wouldn't let them, but now she wasn't so sure. She hurried forward and Issk'ath gamboled after.

It was Spixworth's sample case. She sagged with relief. He must have put it down to catch up with Alice. She laughed and shook her head. Of course, they hadn't intended to blow up the nest while she was inside.

"What is it, Emery?" asked Issk'ath.

"I thought— it doesn't matter. Let's just get back to the others." She picked up the case and fiddled with the feed again, taking a step forward. She lurched sideways as the ground crumbled beneath her. 
33

Al Jahi paced beside the Wolfinger, kicking up plumes of loose dust around the ladder. It coated her in a dull coppery crust, catching in the creases of her suit. She frowned at her shoes. No matter. It'll come off in decontamination, she thought. She could hear the buggy but not see it yet. Oxwell was coming down the nearby rise into the small bowl where the Wolfinger sat. Al Jahi shaded her eyes with her hand, peering behind Oxwell. A second, five seconds, two minutes. Oxwell reached her. "Where are Spixworth and Emery?" asked Al Jahi.

"They aren't coming."

"What do you mean 'they aren't coming'? What happened? Are they injured?"

Alice shook her head. "They've gone native. Chosen Issk'ath over us. Over the Keseburg." Her feet made a slight ringing as she climbed the Wolfinger's ladder. Al Jahi followed her.

"What are you talking about?" Al Jahi picked up a helmet from the nearby locker and twisted it on. Alice pressed the large button on the wall. The decontamination chemicals splashed them with a sudden hiss and liquid hazed Al Jahi's helmet.

"The robot shut down, and Rebecca refused to leave it. She said it was cruel and unfair to leave it alone when it was vulnerable," Alice shouted over the roar of the dryer. "I tried to tell her that it was us or that thing, but she wouldn't listen. And Spixworth—"

"Spixworth what?"

"He was a coward. He said he wasn't going to risk it reactivating during takeoff and causing us to crash. He staying in an effort to make the rest of us comply. He said we wouldn't leave them behind."

"He's right," said Al Jahi.

Alice twisted off her helmet. "This is our chance, Captain. Probably the only one we're going to get. Our plan to take Issk'ath and hope that the Keseburg's security can disable it was not a good one. But it was our only one. Now, it isn't. It won't stay that way though. We have to move quickly or it'll be too late. I understand why Rebecca and Nicholas feel as they do, but they're holding us hostage, just as much as Issk'ath was. Not just us, they're holding our families hostage. Dia and Noura and Andrei's son and my parents and Liu's husband and all the rest. We have to get back to the Keseburg without bringing that thing back to hurt them. We don't know what it intends, we don't know what it is actually capable of, and we don't know what it will take to disable it. Do you really want to chance it?"

Someone rapped on the door. Al Jahi tapped her feed. "One moment, just exiting decontamination," she said.

An image of Blick gave her the thumbs up. She and Alice pulled off their suits and exited the equipment lock. "What's your team's status?" Al Jahi asked as the interior door slid closed.

"Samples are loaded in the cargo lock," said Blick as he climbed inside. "Titov and Martham are securing the buggy."

Alice looked at her expectantly. "Everyone else is ready," she said. "They aren't coming."

Al Jahi scrubbed her face. She hadn't volunteered for this. She hadn't wanted to make decisions like these. Communications, that was it. A jumble of voices and electrical impulses that worked or it didn't. And when it didn't, she knew why. And she knew how to fix it. Better than almost anyone. But this— she wanted to help her kids. She wanted to help Andrei's kids. She didn't want to decide if people starved to death on a strange planet. This hadn't been part of the plan.

The equipment lock opened. Blick, Martham, and Titov piled out around her. "Well, Captain Al Jahi? Us or them?" asked Alice.

"Liu," called Al Jahi. He appeared in the doorway frantically tapping commands into the feed. "How's the preflight coming?"

He raked a hand through his hair, the sweat making it stay stuck in odd angles. "Ten minutes."

Al Jahi nodded. "Then we have ten minutes to reach Emery and Spixworth and talk some sense into them. The rest of you, secure your labs for flight. Leroux and Dr. Cardiff have already secured the infirmary and are available to help. Get it done."

They dispersed and Al Jahi began attempting to reach her missing people.
34

Issk'ath's massive pincers closed around Rebecca's wrist and yanked her back. She heard a swift whir as Issk'ath's wings opened and beat against the air, and they hovered over the slumping ramp as several feet dissolved away in a sudden rumble. She dangled, clutching Spixworth's case out of pure instinct to grab anything. She sucked at the slow air in her suit and squeezed her eyes shut.

"You need to drop the case. You are denser than my people, Emery," said Issk'ath.

"Sorry," said Rebecca. She forced her hand open. The lack of a thud made her reluctant to open her eyes. Her body swung forward with sudden movement.

After a few seconds there was a scrabbling sound and the deep whir of Issk'ath's wings cut off. "You do not need to iterate over your density," it said.

Rebecca's feet scraped across ground and she laughed as she opened her eyes. Issk'ath was slowly lowering its pincer to help her stand.

"Dorothy says you find that humorous. I lack context for this."

Rebecca laughed harder, bending over her knees, her fingers brushing the loose dirt at the edge of the nest. Issk'ath waited for her to catch her breath. "It wasn't really that funny," she said at last, "but we laugh for many reasons. Relief after intense terror being one of those reasons." She puffed out a shaky breath and unhooked her helmet. The breeze was soft and warm. She wondered, idly if it was mild the whole year or if this area had extreme seasonal fluctuation. Something to ask Issk'ath later. "Thank you, Issk'ath. That could have been very bad." She took another slow breath, hoping her legs would stop shaking. "Come on, we don't want them to leave us behind." She glanced back. "Too bad about Spixworth's samples."

"I could retrieve them, if you wish."

Rebecca considered. She tried the feed again. "Captain Al Jahi, are you there?"

"Emery? Where have you been?"

Issk'ath's wings snapped open again and the breezy gust they made fluttered Rebecca's hair as it took off, circling the nest, looking for the fallen samples.

"Didn't Oxwell and Spixworth tell you? They should have returned by now."

"Oxwell is back. She says Issk'ath shut down. You and Spixworth need to get back to the Wolfinger before it reactivates. We're going home while we have the chance. We'll let the Admiral decide how to handle the robot when we return."

"Didn't you hear me? Spixworth isn't with me. He followed Alice out of the nest. Besides, Issk'ath is with me. The colony it holds wishes to help with our colonization efforts. It will save years of research."

There was a long silence on the feed. "Captain?"

"Sorry, Emery. Liu and I were— never mind."

"You were aborting preflight," said Rebecca flatly. "Were you even going to send someone out to let us know?"

"I'm sorry, Rebecca," said Al Jahi. "Oxwell was convinced that you'd already made a decision to stay. And I was uncertain how much time we had. Not enough, as it turns out. I had to protect my kids."

"Stars, Chione, this is supposed to be a research mission. You were considering leaving two healthy, sane people to starve? Do you really think Issk'ath would risk its own existence for some strange idea of vengeance for something that caused it zero actual harm?"

"This wasn't the plan for me either!" shouted Al Jahi. Rebecca could hear her ragged breathing. "Find Spixworth and get back to the Wolfinger," she snapped, though a little quieter. "I'll send Blick and Titov to cover the area between us and the nest. You check the interior. We're going home. Let someone else decide the entire fate of the human species. I never wanted to."

"Maybe Dr. Cardiff can help—"

"Shove Cardiff into the void, Emery, she never does anything. Besides, I want to be angry for a while. I deserve that much. We all deserve that much. Get Spixworth and your metal friend and let's go home."

"Yes, Captain." Rebecca turned to look for Issk'ath. It had still not returned. She knelt at the edge of the nest, gingerly testing the soft ground to be sure it wouldn't collapse beneath her. She peered down into the pit. The smashed remains of the upper ramp lay scattered in the dim light far below. She could just pick out the square edge of the sample case but Issk'ath was not near it.

"Issk'ath?" she called.

There was no answer and it was too dark to see any deeper into the nest. She turned away toward the river. "Nick?" she called. He couldn't be far from the Wolfinger. He'd left just after Alice. She walked toward the rapid, sweeping water. Had something happened? "Captain?" she said, "I'm worried Spixworth might have fallen in the river. He was right behind Oxwell, he ought to have been back by now. Can you get a geolocation on his filament?"

"We've been trying, Emery. I haven't been able to get any response at all."

"If he— if the worst happened—"

"It should still pull power off the suit supply. We're not getting anything. The signal must be blocked."

"Then he must still be—" Rebecca cut off as she heard a distant hum behind her. She turned toward the nest. Issk'ath's legs pierced the ground as it landed. The folded figure in his arms glittered with shattered glass. Issk'ath lowered and placed it gently on the ground. Rebecca sprinted back toward them.

Issk'ath stared at her and waited. She sat abruptly beside Spixworth's body. He was wrong. As if he were a paper doll that had been torn and then glued sloppily back together by a fitful child. The suit had caught most of the blood except for the lacerations from the glass around his head, but his limbs were all acute angles in strange directions.

"I'm sorry, Emery," said Issk'ath. "He was at the bottom of the nest."

"Is he— do you have him? Like Dorothy?"

"No Emery. His data was dispersed. I cannot recover it so long after termination."

She nodded and picked up Spixworth's hand. "I will go retrieve his samples," said Issk'ath, rising again from the ground.

"Thank you," she murmured, not really caring. She sat with him long after Issk'ath had returned. It stood beside them, a sentinel against the dwindling glow of the setting sun. Eventually, she realized she could hear footsteps and looked up.

Blick and Titov had reached them. "Oh," gasped Blick, kneeling beside her. He squeezed her shoulder and then stripped off his glove. He navigated through the jagged shards of helmet to press a finger against Spixworth's throat. Rebecca wasn't certain why he'd bothered. It was obvious that Nicholas was dead. Almost as if something had stolen the real Nick and left a badly made puppet in his place. Titov spoke softly into the feed. Rebecca ignored it.

"What happened?" Blick asked gently. Rebecca shook her head. Blick turned to Issk'ath.

"I am uncertain," it said, "but I think it likely that he fell from the ramp. Emery and I experienced a significant collapse not far from where he had left his sample case."

"You sure that's what happened?" asked Titov, folding his arms over his chest. "Maybe you helped him along."

"Emery and I had no contact with Spixworth. We did not see him when we left the nest."

"He left right after Alice. He meant to catch up with her," said Rebecca. "It must have been an accident. The ramp was uneven. You know that Andrei, you came down with me before."

Blick was opening the sample case. "Maybe he stopped to get another sample of something and just— slipped," he said.

Titov sighed and sat across from Rebecca. He moved Spixworth's other arm into a less unnatural angle. "I know we all realized this mission was risky but... He's so young. Always reminded me of Peter." He carefully picked a shard of helmet from Spixworth's cheek and dropped it over the edge of the nest. He laughed softly. "Kept me up the past few nights he was so excited. About Issk'ath. About the people that were here. I lost my temper last night. He was talking about learning Issk'ath's language. He wanted to experiment with synthetic pheromones and had some idea about a sort of drum— he couldn't help himself. Made him sleep in the lab." He swiped a glove across his face.

"I'm sure he understood," said Blick.

"I am sorry his data dispersed," said Issk'ath. "The colony was very eager to speak with him. I believed we would have many seasons to work with him."

"We should take care of him. And take Emery back." Blick pulled Rebecca into a hug.

"I'll go back for the buggy," said Titov.

"That is unnecessary. By the time you return, the light will be gone. I will take him." Issk'ath lowered and slid its upper legs beneath Spixworth's form. Titov looked hesitant, but Rebecca nodded.

"Let's go home," said Blick, slinging a comforting arm around each of them. They followed Issk'ath's slow progress back toward the Wolfinger.
35

"What should we do with him?" asked Leroux as Issk'ath placed Spixworth on the ground beside the Wolfinger's ladder. The exterior lights were hard and cruel on the black streaks of blood that had dried on his face.

"We should put him with Dorothy," said Rebecca.

"No, I'm sorry Emery, but we aren't delaying the launch any longer," said Al Jahi. "We've lost three people here. We need to inform their families and get a larger crew. Security and officers and a permanent camp. We'll have to bring him with us."

"We don't have a lifecycler. We can't take him with us. Even Stratton is a risk," said Alice.

"It's only a forty-eight-hour flight."

"His body may have picked up microbes from the nest. Many would have died with him, but probably not all. With these lacerations, there's no way the decontamination procedure would kill everything. We can't just leave him exposed in the ship."

"You could give him to the Eaters," said Issk'ath.

"Eaters?" asked Al Jahi.

"They are like your dermestids. It is what my people did with their terminated loved ones. They consume organic material and created new earth for the nests."

"Do they still exist? I thought your people have been gone for years."

"The People were not the only ones who brought their dead to the Eaters."

Al Jahi shook her head. "We don't have time for some lengthy trip or we would bury him beside Dorothy."

"You do not need to take him anywhere. The Eaters are everywhere under the open sky. You would need only to remove any artificial casings from his body and expose him to the air. Traditionally, the People would return in several days to take the offering of soil left in the body's place, but no one will disturb it if you wish to return later for it."

"Food for other life. Be part of something bigger than just the agri deck. Nick would have liked that," murmured Blick.

"It really could be Spixworth's Steppe," said Rebecca with a sad smile.

"Ok," said Al Jahi. "Yes. We'll leave him for the Eaters. I think— I think he would have appreciated some privacy. Would you get him ready Blick? Titov?" They nodded. "We saved the others' filaments for their families. Maybe we should take his for his dad." Al Jahi's voice broke. Rebecca's eyes stung. She turned away.

"We'll have to incinerate the suit," said Alice, "to be certain we aren't bringing anything back."

"I understand," said Blick.

Leroux began climbing the ladder. Rebecca took a last look at the strange, open world around her. She couldn't picture her father or sister out here. The nights were so dark without the artificial lights of the Keseburg and filled with sounds that made her spine ache with terror. The daylight made strange, uncomfortable hues over everything and the touch of long grasses had given her chills in the beginning, even through her suit. And though those were small fears, things that could be defeated gradually, real dangers remained. A swift powerful river, a giant, crumbling sinkhole, thousands of uncategorized plants and animals. Not to mention the multiple microbes Alice had already found in the soil and water. None of them appeared dangerous at first testing, but where there was one, there were more.

"I never thought we'd really find it in our lifetime. I never thought we'd be the ones," said Blick softly as they waited for Al Jahi to reach the top of the ladder.

"It's not right to do this to them. It's not right to force them out of everything they've known and make them scrape a hard, unhappy life out of a strange rock," answered Rebecca, a sudden, tired tear escaping her.

"What's our alternative?"

"We go on, as we always have. We forget about this place, go back to space, where it's safe. Where everything works and nothing unexpected gets in. Where it's just unending serenity of stars and daily work."

"You mean you want us to pretend this never happened? We should lie about what we found?" asked Blick. "Nick died for this place. And Dorothy and Stratton."

"You remember when we learned about the religious wars back on earth?" asked Rebecca.

"Sure, that was practically all of history class."

Titov knelt to remove Spixworth's shoes beside them. "Imagine if one of them, the Earthlings, imagine if one of them found the god of their belief structure. Actually met it, and was allowed to come back. If that person came back and could answer every question, every conflicting piece of information. You think the Earthlings would have stopped their wars? You think they'd just take that person's word for it and lay aside their differences and follow that person's version of divinity?"

Blick shrugged. "I'd like to believe they would, but I guess it doesn't seem likely."

"This planet, this is our god. It's our entire purpose, it has been for a millennium and a half. If we go back and tell them that, tell them everything we've seen, you think people are going to just agree to come here, to be done with their quest? No. It's going to be war. Look how resistant we were in the beginning to even come out of the ship. Look at Dorothy. There was nothing wrong with her, except sheer panic. The stress killed her."

"She had a heart arrhythmia from a mild case of Spindling. It was just worsened with the—" Blick protested.

"That's my point. None of us knew about it, though we've been through more physicals than anyone else in our generations. How many others will have hidden problems like that? How many are just not going to be able to force themselves to leave the ship? Some people aren't going to believe us. Some aren't going to care, they're going to want to keep going in the Keseburg anyway. And the people that agree to come, they're going to start dying. From stress, from an inability to raise the crops they need, from diseases we haven't found yet, from poisonous plants we haven't indexed yet. And when they start dying, they're going to blame us and they'll give up and leave again. This planet is the end of our civilization. Maybe Alice is right. Maybe we should keep it a secret."

"You can't decide that. All those thousands of people are waiting for this. We can't just decide not to tell them, especially now. Look, you're right, Rebecca. We're going to lose some people. Probably people we love. Probably ourselves. But it's a chance. This planet isn't our god. It's just a better ship. Look how we've adapted to the Keseburg. You think it looked anything like it does now when it set off from Earth? We made our home in the most hostile environment in the universe. We grew plants and organisms and people. For sixteen hundred years. We're going to be okay. Maybe not you and me. Maybe not your dad and maybe not my Agatha. But that's all right too, it really is. We're part of something bigger now. You and me and everyone aboard the Keseburg, we all die eventually. But we won't be helpless while the ship falls apart around us. Not anymore. Isn't having a chance to save ourselves worth the risk?"

She hadn't considered it quite that way before.

"All my life I wanted Earth to come get us. Every morning, I thought, 'Today's the day. They've come up with some new technology and today they'll find us and we'll go zipping off back home.' But nobody's coming, Rebecca. If there is anyone even left, they think we're dead. They can't rescue us and we have to stop waiting." Blick squeezed her shoulder. "We have to save ourselves. You get it?"

Rebecca nodded. She hugged him. "Thanks, Lionel," she said.

She climbed the nearby ladder into the ship, Issk'ath clicking along behind her. She secured the last of Spixworth's samples and her own lab space while the others said goodbye to Spixworth. Issk'ath was strapped into the equipment lock so it wouldn't hurtle across the Wolfinger during takeoff. Rebecca lingered in the doorway. She didn't know if it was nervous. Did a sentient robot experience anxiety? She knew she was, and Alice hadn't spoken to her since she'd returned. The sight of the three empty flight chairs carved an aching hollow in her chest. Spixworth's the largest absence. She'd liked Stratton and felt pity for Dorothy Hackford, but Nick had been her friend. "I wish I'd made him stay with us in the nest," she muttered.

"You mean Nicholas Spixworth?" asked Issk'ath.

"Yes. He wouldn't have died if we'd gone together."

"I could not have pulled you both up. There would not have been time. If he had not died, it might have been you. Or all three of us might have fallen. It would not have helped. That choice should not cause you distress, Emery."

She heard Gang Liu and Captain Al Jahi go through their preflight check. It was time to go home. The engines whirred beneath her and she took a deep breath and walked to her seat, pulling the straps tight around her. Rebecca had trained for months in the shuttle, but the tiny ship was still frightening and fragile next to the Keseburg. She always felt as if it were shaking itself apart. But Liu never seemed to notice, so she assumed it was normal. He flew all the time. He could do it in his sleep, he'd said. They didn't need the feed to guide them. The planet fell away and Rebecca watched the threads of deep blue water shrink and disappear into a blur of green.

She watched the faces of the others. Most of them weren't even looking outside at the planet. Most, like Alice, were staring glumly at their feet, lost in a trance of fatigue and loss. They broke through the last wisp of cloud and headed up into the dark. Once they were in free-float, Rebecca sighed and unbuckled. Captain Al Jahi ordered them into the kitchen, the only other room big enough for a debrief.

Rebecca glided slowly down the corridor, gently pushing herself away from the walls. She looked back at the equipment lock where Issk'ath's bright casing glittered under the dim lights. It was close to the small porthole, its pale gold eyes fixated on the home it was leaving behind. She paused.

"Are you— is everything optimal, Issk'ath?" she asked.

Its head swiveled toward her. "I have never seen it from this distance. The colony finds the openness unsettling. They prefer the closeness of earth and rock." It pointed to its chassis where lights flickered and slashed in slim lines across it. "They are awake, speaking to one another. Some are frightened. Some are excited."

"What about you, Issk'ath? How are you?"

It considered for a moment. "I am— curious. There is something attractive about new data. It makes the iteration fade."

"Good," she said and turned back toward the kitchen. Blick was already pulling out meal packets in the kitchen. He tossed one to her and she snapped the chemical heater, shaking the foil container. Captain Al Jahi floated at the head of the table, her arms crossed, ready for bad news. "I know we didn't fill out our schedule, but we have to decide what our recommendation to the Admiral will be. Given the information we do have, is this the planet we've been searching for?" she asked.

Titov sucked on the food packet, his cheeks hollowing. Then he shrugged. "Without Hackford's tests the data is a little thin, but yeah, so far chemical makeup checks out. We all know it's a breathable atmosphere. There will need to be a minimal oxygen boost for those less fit, right components for crop growth and most of the valley is in zones five to ten, at least in the initial landing area." He kept his voice casual, but he had already picked a site for a house and had dreamed of Peter running over the soft leafy vegetation. It was going to make everything, especially Peter, better. He didn't buy Emery's pessimism. It had to be better than watching his son deteriorate.

Blick accessed the wall screen and pulled up video of the sterile room. His face split into a broad grin as the others leaned forward with excited gasps. Curling fronds of green pushed through the small trays of dirt and a glass case of scuttling beetles sat nearby. "As you can see, samples Spixworth and I—" he stuttered to a stop and his grin faded. "Spixworth and I collected are thriving even in the Keseburg dirt and conditions. It's obviously still early, but so far the climate seems a good match, groundwater seems to be in an adequate range for the season. We won't know about winter precipitation for a few months, but I presume we will be sending more missions before settlement."

"Wait," said Al Jahi holding up a hand, "We're already jumping into settlement discussions?"

Rebecca exchanged a glance with Alice.

"Why not?" broke in Dr. Cardiff, "isn't that what we came here for? You've just heard the chemistry, climate and biology are all favorable. It's the logical next step to talk about settlement—"

"We haven't heard about the biology. And our geologist and entomologist died. And we're going to recommend settlement? We need more testing missions," said Alice.

"Hackford died because Stratton insisted on outdated isolation techniques that worsened an underlying condition. Given the same extreme stress, it could have happened on the Keseburg as well. And Spixworth was an accident," said Cardiff.

"Oxford, Martham, report," ordered Captain Al Jahi.

Beatrice Martham shook her head. "It's going to take months to properly study all of the lifeforms we've found, and this is only one small section of the planet. Who knows what's waiting out there?"

Al Jahi scrubbed her face with one hand. "Can you at least tell me about Hackford? Is there anything immediately threatening to humans in the area?"

"The tests we ran on Hackford showed no new bacteria or virus, and all of us have since been exposed to the atmosphere with no ill effect," said Alice reluctantly, "But other than helmets, we've all worn gloves and suits. We don't know if the organisms in the soil and water will be harmful or not. Some of them have familiar structures, but others... this is all entirely new. And if we— if we expose people to it, I'm not sure what will happen."

"You're saying we shouldn't recommend the planet for settlement?" asked the Captain.

Everyone silently stared at Alice. She met Rebecca's gaze. "I think we should consider bypassing this planet, yes. At the very least, we'd have to do more tests and synthesize antibiotics before we introduce settlers into the equation. Even then— the native bacteria and viruses will mutate once we interact with them. There will be die-offs, not just of us, but of any animals and some plants we bring to the planet. Some of the native species may suffer from exposure to us. It could be disastrous on a planetary scale—"

"That would happen anywhere—" protested Dr. Cardiff.

"Which is why we should be careful," said Rebecca. "If we waltz back onto the Keseburg shouting about a viable planet, everyone is going to get overexcited and rush. And more people will die." She looked over at Blick. "If we want to make the best use of this chance, we've got to be cautious and go slow."

"Hackford didn't die from the planet—" yelled Cardiff.

"She did," said Alice. "You think she's the only one who's going to freak out with a severe case of agoraphobia once we land? Look at us. We're trained and it took every ounce of our willpower to get us out there. The people on the Keseburg— they don't know what they're getting into. Not at all."

"You think we should wait to tell them? Wait for what?"

"You're asking my opinion?" Alice snapped, "I think we should wait forever. We don't belong here."

"We should at least consider the risks we're going to face—" started Rebecca.

Martham tried to throw her foil food packet onto the table but it just floated gently away. "You've decided you have the authority to keep the knowledge that we've found the first habitable planet from everyone? That we're the first generation to contribute to the survival of our species—"

Titov snorted. "Really? You fall for that tripe? You think this is the first livable planet we've found in a millennium? You're blind. Emery is just following a long tradition of cover-ups that have been used to keep the Keseburg safe."

"Oh shut up, Andrei, I'm so sick of your conspiracy theories. We trained our entire lives to find a planet. We did it. We won. And now—"

"And nobody told us what to do once we found it," interrupted Rebecca. "Maybe we should stop and think about it before we go getting people overexcited."

Dr. Cardiff shook her head. "You can't seriously be considering this, Captain."

Captain Al Jahi frowned. "Emery has some good points. So does everyone else. I have to consider it."

"This is mass hysteria. You are all just unnerved by your experiences. Once we get back to the Keseburg and you've had time to process what you've been through, you'll change your minds. Besides, there's no way we could keep a secret this big from the others. Not with all the samples and that— that thing in the equipment lock."

"We'll have to, if that's what's necessary," said Alice.

"And who determines that?" asked Martham, "You? You're no expert. I'll tell whoever will listen—"

"Enough!" cried Al Jahi. "You swore an oath of loyalty to the Keseburg. That includes following the chain of command, which is me. Nobody is going to say a word to anyone until I talk to the Admiral in private. He'll decide what's to be done. That's an order. In the meantime, I want a debrief from each of you before we arrive home. You have eight hours to compile preliminary reports and get them back to me before we hit the Keseburg's docks. There will be no discussion of the mission unless and until I give the okay. Issk'ath is to remain aboard the Wolfinger with Emery until we can figure this out. No one boards the Wolfinger and no one accesses the data unless it's the Admiral himself. You keep your mouths shut. Is that understood?"

They nodded one by one, silently. The others began drifting away, headed for the lab or their bunks. Their voices dwindled and Rebecca turned back to the table. Might as well do her report here. She sucked the last of the hot tomato soy goop from her packet and slid her seat over to the small console. Most of her notes were up to date, the photos of the nest were already cataloged. She saw that Issk'ath had added some along with notations. At least it was trying to help. Rebecca put in some supplementary field notes to Alice's report on the nest and left a tentative note for her friend in the private data stream before closing out her own report. She hoped they could heal whatever strangeness was between them. There was nothing left to do but wait to get back to the Keseburg. She was profoundly lonely. Alice wasn't speaking to her and Spixworth was— her brain blanked for a moment, not accepting the thought. Spixworth was gone, she insisted to herself. If she could just be back in her own apartment, just be around a crowd of people, even strangers. Rebecca missed her cat, she hoped her sister had been taking good care of him. The planet had been incredible, but Keseburg was still home. She was one of only a handful of people in the past sixteen hundred years that could claim homesickness. She looked forward to the noise and the pressure and heat of the people in the market and the easy motion of her own limbs in the lesser gravity of the ship. She was more real there, more human.

She crumpled the foil packet and pressed it into the incinerator, then went to see if she could talk to Alice. She saw Martham and Blick typing away in their small green lab filled with tanks. Alice shared the medical lab with Leroux and Titov. They bustled around each other easily.

"At least engineering will be happy, even if we don't settle," Titov was saying, "The few samples Hackford managed to test before... show abundant element mining possibilities. Sam keeps telling me how low we are every time I complain that the printers put restrictions on orders. Even with the recycling crackdown, we definitely need a mining mission."

"We need a planet," muttered Leroux as she checked a labeled sample against her packing list. "It's not just the ship that's in bad shape. Did you see the new exercise regimen? The truth is, even that isn't enough to keep up with the bone degeneration. Not for the new gens." They were silent for a moment. "Did you see the new immunology report?"

Titov nodded. "We're running out of time either way," he muttered. "The next bad flu that sweeps the ship might be even worse than risking the planet's new diseases. We're going to lose people whatever is decided."

Alice frowned. "At least we know how to prevent the diseases on the Keseburg. The planet is a whole new ecosystem. Death there could be far worse than Spindling. And what we bring with us could wipe out what's already there. It could decimate the existing life, wipe out something we desperately need to survive."

Leroux shook her head. "I suppose we're getting ahead of ourselves. No good borrowing worry, my mom always said. Plenty enough without that. Best get home first and figure it out once that robot thing is dealt with."

Issk'ath was a problem for Alice. After Rebecca had contacted the Wolfinger, she'd tried several tactics to dissuade the others from letting it aboard, even considered trying to plead her case with the machine itself. But her crewmates were convinced they were safer with it on the Wolfinger than waiting for it to destroy them when it was left behind. And Issk'ath did not share her fears for the planet. Its programming was to protect the colony, it had said, not the planet. The humans' fate was in their own hands. It refused to be left behind, even if it meant eventually returning with the Keseburg anyhow. It was an opportunity for massive amounts of data and Alice had nothing to offer that was greater than that. She would have to find a way to get it off the ship before they returned. Or get rid of the Wolfinger itself. She could see now, Titov, Al Jahi, and Cardiff would be immovable. They'd never agree to abandon the planet. Hackford's death had been attributed to personal weakness and Stratton's and Spixworth's to fatal accidents. Issk'ath's refusal to kill Stratton in the equipment lock had been enough to convince most of them that it had not killed him later.

She'd have to take care of any of the others who wouldn't agree to keep the planet secret. Those that remained would be able to help her get the robot off the ship. They just had to get it to the door. The emergency decontamination process would do the rest. It would be difficult to convince Rebecca that it was necessary, especially now that she'd developed some strange fascination with Issk'ath, but Alice had known her for years. Alice had underestimated Issk'ath's hold over her friend at the nest, but surely, if she called on old affections, Alice would win in the end. She hadn't quite written off Martham either. The woman was obsessive about her work. If she made a strong enough scientific case for abandoning the planet, Martham would come around. The others, Blick, Leroux, and Liu were unknowns. None of them had kids. She needed Liu, if any of them expected to return to the Keseburg. The Wolfinger's autopilot could only get them so far.

"Are you alright Alice? I'm so sorry about Nick." Rebecca wrung her hands beside Alice, blinking more tears away. Alice felt a pang of guilt at that. What had she done? What was she preparing to do? She shut her eyes. It's an entire planet. They died to save a whole world. If the others have to be sacrificed too, so be it.

"I'm sorry about Nick too," was all she said.
36

Liu finished the orbital exit. He rechecked the calculations he had made only a few hours before, hoping his math wasn't as rusty as he suspected. Without the communications array, there was no way to check the predicted course until they came within visual range of the Keseburg. He just had to hope the large ship would be in the projected position. As long as they hadn't altered their flight path in the past weeks, he was confident they would be on target. He pressed his fingers into his eyelids and yawned. Then he unbuckled and pushed off toward the kitchen, stretching as he spiraled down the hallway. Issk'ath watched him as he floated past the equipment lock. Liu yanked himself to a stop with a sigh. The thing's eyes were creepy but he couldn't just let it sit there alone in the dark. Liu plastered an uneasy smile across his face and poked his head around the door frame.

"How are you—" he paused. He'd meant to ask how it was feeling, but rejected the idea as nonsensical. This thing was just wire and sparks. It wasn't like them. "How are you operating?" he finished awkwardly.

"Within norms," it said, further illustrating what Liu had thought. "Thank you for your concern," it added.

Liu nodded and turned to move away.

"May I see the rest of the ship?" it asked suddenly. Liu froze.

"I— better ask the Captain about that," he said quickly. "It's not— we just have several sensitive experiments in the labs," he was sweating and Liu could only hope Issk'ath didn't know enough about humans to notice.

"Very well," was all that it said.

"I'll go and find her," Liu stammered, pushing away before he could make it worse.

He was absently tapping his cup at the table when Al Jahi found him. "Do you need me to up the caffeine allowance?" asked the captain.

Liu smiled and shook his head. "No. I got enough sleep. Drinking it more out of habit than anything else."

"So why are you tapping?"

"Sorry." He pushed the cup away, locking it into the holder. "Am I that obvious?"

"You always tap when you're upset. Drives me nuts when I'm trying to listen to the feed."

"I'd say we all have reason to be upset," said Liu. He stared at Al Jahi, wondering if he ought to tell her about Issk'ath or not. He already knew her answer. What good would it do to ask?

"But specifically..." Al Jahi prodded him.

"Specifically, the robot wants a tour."

"It— what?"

Liu picked up the cup again. Twisted it between his hands. "Issk'ath. It wants to get out of the equipment lock and move around. I told it we had delicate procedures going on in the labs. That seemed to satisfy it for now."

"It's only a two-day trip— surely we can persuade it to stay put for that long."

He shrugged. "Maybe. I wasn't going to tell you, but if it decides it's waited long enough, that cargo band wasn't really meant to restrain anything, just hold it in place during launch. One of that thing's pincers could probably snap it no problem."

Al Jahi crossed her arms. "I hate this," she said.

"Me too," said Liu. "We're hostages in our own ship. It doesn't need air. It doesn't need food. I don't even think the environmentals affect it. You think we made the wrong choice?"

"What other choice was there? Remember," she said leaning toward him and lowering her voice, "We stick together. Forty-eight hours, we can hold these people in check that long. Just stay calm. Besides, it may not need the things we do, but it needs us. At least for now. This is our home. Space is our habitat. Without us, it would just drift forever. It needs our maps, our ships, our pilots. Especially since we watched the sunset the other night."

Liu nodded. "Then— what should we do? I think it's bored."

"I'll see if Emery will sit with it. They seem to have a rapport. You just worry about driving," said Al Jahi. She pulled the cup from him. "And stop tapping. It makes my teeth ache."

He smiled and got up. "Yes, Captain."

Al Jahi groaned. "I'll be happy to go back to being Chione in a few hours," she said and glided away.

Titov had already finished his report and had left the lab to see if Blick wanted to squeeze in a few more rounds of Trojan Relay before they docked. Alice had abandoned her work. It was pointless. She concentrated, instead on how to avoid detection as she eliminated the others. Al Jahi and the robot would be the most difficult. Pushing Issk'ath out after getting rid of the people that opposed her would be easiest, but the robot had somehow sensed Hackford's death from several feet away. The Wolfinger was not large. If it was quick enough, it would stop her. If not— well, it would discover her at least, and she had more than one obstacle to remove. She needed something slow and subtle. Something neither the robot nor the victim would notice until it was too late and she was safely away.

Dr. Cardiff wandered in. "Joan," she said, "I need your medical report to finish Hackford's file. I was going to do it on the Keseburg's remote feed but it doesn't appear to be up yet."

"I'm sorry, Phyllis," murmured Leroux. She typed a few strokes into her console. "Captain Al Jahi thought it best to keep it off until we notify the families. You can use my station, I need to stretch my legs anyway."

"Thanks," said Cardiff sitting at the console. Leroux nodded and yawned.

"You want anything from the kitchen Oxwell?" she asked.

Alice forced a smile and shook her head. Leroux left and Alice's heart started pounding. She looked around her station. Phenol? No, too fast. Cardiff would know something was wrong as soon as she breathed in a concentrated burst. She considered an injection. Also too quick. And obvious. Ethidium Bromide? No, the concentration was too weak. Might make Cardiff sick, but Alice needed her silent and gone before she realized what was happening. Her gaze caught on the methanol. They'd run so many sequences in the past week that Leroux had complained about the slight smell just that morning and did an extra vent before they'd launched. It was slow. Too slow? The lab monitor would alarm if she made the concentration too high. It had to be slow or— Alice glided casually over to the workbench. The sensor was bolted to the top. She stood in front of it, and pulled a length of slender tubing from the equipment cabinet. She glanced over her shoulder at Cardiff. The doctor was lost in her report, oblivious. Alice shifted slightly to block the feed camera. She twisted one end of the tubing into the sniffer and the other to the rear exhaust. Thank the Core for Titov and his penchant for cosmic glug, she thought. A deep ache of remorse hit her. Titov had shown her and Spixworth how to fool the lab monitor one night at the end of training. He and Blick had been cooking up a batch of glug to celebrate.

"Have to fool the sensors," said Blick. "Otherwise security and lab inspectors would be down here in minutes."

"Why don't you just cover it?" Spixworth had asked as he watched Titov carefully seal the tubing with biogel.

"Failsafe. If the sensor is blocked, it alarms, just the same as when it detects a hazard. Have to create a feedback loop. So it's always sensing the same, boring lab air."

The cosmic glug had made her eyes water as soon as Blick opened the container. Zachary's had nothing like it. She'd never been more intoxicated in her life. That was the night Spixworth tried to tell her he liked her. She'd pushed him away.

Alice rubbed the back of her lab glove over her eyes and then swore softly as she realized what she'd done. It didn't matter. She wasn't going to be running any more experiments. She moved a rack of test tubes to the center of the bench, blocking the camera's view of the sensor. The drum of methanol sat beneath her station. She strapped in to the nearby seat and pulled a small laser scalpel from the tool kit. She looked over at Dr. Cardiff. One more chance, she thought.

"What if Issk'ath is lying?" she asked.

"Hmm?" Dr. Cardiff looked up.

"What if it's lying about its people? Or it doesn't know and there are more of them somewhere?"

Dr. Cardiff shrugged. "Then future exploratory missions will encounter them and develop a way to work with them, I suppose. Why would a robot lie?"

"To protect them or to hide them from us," said Alice, thumbing the scalpel's switch.

The doctor shook her head. "But it showed us their nest. Even if it was empty, it still gave us information. It exposed their habits and society, their food chain— even their biological structures. If it wanted to protect them, that seems an odd strategy. Still— this is to be bothering you more than the others. You have brought it up multiple times now." She leaned toward Alice and stared intently at her. "Let's say you're right. Let's say Issk'ath believes we are a danger to its people or the planet. Wouldn't it be... redemptive to prove that we are not our ancestors? To show that we are different from what our history suggests?"

"Perhaps. But should this new planet pay the cost if we fail? It doesn't owe us a chance at that redemption."

Dr. Cardiff shook her head. "We're never going to agree on this, are we?"

"I guess not," said Alice sadly. "I'm feeling a little beat. I think I'll hit the rack, Dr. Cardiff."

The laser scalpel hummed softly as she clicked it on. Dr. Cardiff nodded and wished her a good night before turning back to her report. Alice made a slice in the drum of methanol at her knee, then quietly replaced the scalpel in the toolkit. She tipped the container and smashed in the side of the plastic with her foot. A quick, furtive glance at the drum showed a steady, silent stream of the liquid streaming into the area under the desk. Alice held her breath and made a show of quickly tidying her workspace. Then she floated out of the lab, exhaling slowly as the airtight doors slid shut behind her. She checked on Leroux, who was already asleep. No danger of interference there then. She set her watch for two hours and velcroed herself into the bunk thinking of what would come next. Unless she was very lucky, Titov wouldn't wander into the lab any time soon and she'd have to vent it after Cardiff's exposure to cover her tracks. She'd have to find another method for him. And for Al Jahi.

She rolled onto her side to face the wall. She hadn't enjoyed killing Stratton, but he was the captain. Their leader. If he couldn't be depended on to do what was right, then his death was necessary. She could live with it. Spixworth was a friend, and Alice missed him. But his death had been fast, almost accidental. Almost. The ramp had been narrow, crumbling. And Cardiff— the doctor was a stranger at best. She had no business butting in. She was not aboard to make decisions about the planet. She should have kept her mouth shut. But Titov— Alice bit back a sob. He just wanted to help his kid. That was all. Just wanted a world where his kid didn't hurt anymore. He didn't want to build cities or clear cut or suck all the goodness out of the soil. Alice cleared her throat and wiped her eyes. Peter wasn't going to be saved by the planet. It was too late, he was already Spindling like so many others. They'd die with the extra weight. Titov would bring his son to the colony and then watch him slowly be crushed by the very air. But Alice could stop that. She could take the agonizing decision from him. He'd never have to decide whether to watch Peter gradually wither on the Keseburg or collapse on the planet. It was kinder this way. Alice tucked the sheet over her shoulder and fell asleep.
37

"Come on, Andrei, if we play in the lock, then we keep the robot entertained and Emery can play. Maybe Liu too," said Blick rattling the box of tokens.

Titov gave a begrudging nod. "All right. It's just so frigid in there."

Blick shrugged. "So grab an incubation cube from the lab."

"Nah. Liu will yell. The power relays on that side of the ship are old and faulty. Too much in that section will make the bridge consoles shut off. The whole ship is falling apart. Do you know we couldn't get the drain suction working the other day in the lab? And Oxwell swears the water lines have something living in them. They groan and sputter constantly."

"Shh," scolded Blick, patting the corridor wall, "it can hear you. Bad luck to criticize our ride."

"Superstitious nonsense."

"So, equipment lock or what?"

Titov thought for a moment. "I guess I can make a little heater. We'll have to sit on it, it's not very radiant— I need to borrow your blanket."

Blick snorted a laugh. "Why mine? Use yours."

"I will, but I need two."

"Yeah, okay, we're not going to need it after tomorrow anyway."

Titov grinned. "You get the others. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"All right, can't wait to take your last credits."

"You talk big," said Titov hurrying away, "but you play a lousy game."

"Hey, Andrei—" called Blick after him, "You aren't going to blow anything up, are you?"

"Nah," yelled Titov, "perfectly safe. Relax, I know what I'm doing."

Titov could see Dr. Cardiff through the lab windows. The doors slid open and she sneezed as he slid in. "Uh-oh," he said, "You better get Leroux to give you a check. Don't want to bring anything home."

The doctor shook her head. "It isn't a cold. It's only in here. The air is so dry."

Titov sniffed but shrugged. "Must be the air cycler. We got too used to wild air."

"Wild air?" asked Cardiff with a smile.

"Yeah, wild and free. Unrecycled."

Cardiff laughed. "You could probably market that. Titov's wild air."

He piled the blankets onto his workbench, clamping them in place. He began pulling out components, shaking the container of magnesium. Enough, but just. He felt a flash of guilt at using it for something so frivolous. Whole planet now, he told himself, won't have to rely on the printers anymore. "Where are Leroux and Oxwell?" he asked, mostly to distract himself.

"They went to bed, oh, almost two hours ago."

He turned to her. "Were you waiting for Leroux?"

Dr. Cardiff shook her head. "No, I needed her report on Hackford. And then I stayed because it was quieter here than on the bridge."

"Ah," he said turning back to find the iron shavings.

"But," Cardiff groaned with a stretch, "I think I'm done now. I've started a headache and I'm getting dizzy."

"Time for some sleep, I'd say," answered Titov. "We've still got forty hours, plenty of time for those reports."

"Yeah," yawned Cardiff, sucking in a deep breath. "You're probably right. I'll see you later." She wandered over to the door.

"Good night doc," Titov called. The door slid open and then shut again. He whipped out the bottom blanket in a fluttering billow over the floor to spread it out. Peter used to love that. He'd curl up in the center of his bed and Titov would pretend not to see him and make the bed around him, leaving a giggling lump that wriggled and untucked the corners. Titov smiled. Peter was too old for that game now. The blanket floated in front of him and Titov pushed it down toward the floor, tying the corners to the foot straps. He turned to grab the chemicals. When he returned to the blanket, he saw it darkening with moisture. Large clear bubbles of liquid hovered below his bent knees. He reached down and touched one and it splashed around his finger.

"Ah, Flaming Core," he sighed, "decrepit old flyer. Did you spring a leak?" Did the autocleaner malfunction? He glanced up at the misters, though he wasn't sure what he was looking for. Titov put his containers back on the workbench. No point mixing them now, the water would cause the reaction early. He had to dry the blanket first. An incubation cube sat near the infirmary cots. He grabbed it and connected it, spinning it on. It would take a few minutes to warm up, so he decided to find out what had leaked and followed the puddle of liquid. It stretched across the space, disappearing in the dark cubby below Oxwell's bench. He swam down toward the deck to look for the source.

"Earth's Holy Oceans, Alice, did you burst a hose?" he swore aloud. "You're a flaming waste of elements, Wolfinger. You hear that Blick? A flaming waste." He wedged himself under the countertop, his knees hitting the cold liquid. He pushed the drums of chemicals aside, checking the connectors with his fingers as he did. They felt whole but he couldn't see the water hose in the cramped dark space. He flipped on the filament but the light beam was just above where he needed it. Titov swore again and fumbled above his head with one hand for the equipment kit. The magnifier floated away from his fingers. "Soil and Rain, may the Galactic Void swallow it whole—" He fumbled with the filament pulling it left and then down before finally unwinding it from his head and angling it with his hand. The incubating cube began to hum softly as it reached temperature. A slow, comfortable warmth plumed from it and washed over Titov. He grunted and wriggled farther in, holding out the flimsy wire to light up the hoses in the back. They seemed intact. Titov sucked in a deep sigh and froze. The sharp tingle of alcohol had met his nostrils. He backed up suddenly. The incubating cube—  A container beside him sloshed as his shoulder bumped it. He felt the chilly trickle of liquid on his arm just as he turned, jerking the light up to the deep slash in the drum. The light was shaking as he raised it farther to the patchy red label at the top.

Methanol. Oh, shi— 
38

"You should never make a bet with a pilot, Blick. You should know that by now," laughed Liu. "We have too much time on our hands and only gambling to occupy it."

"Sure, you may have had practice," said Blick sorting the tokens on the magnetic table, "but I know two things you don't."

"And what's that?" Liu leaned his back against a stack of crates, his legs floating freely beneath the table.

"First, Titov is terrible at Trojan Relay. He's all yours. And second, I've got a secret weapon."

Issk'ath hissed and strained on the straps.

"Are you okay?" asked Rebecca, pushing herself up to hang in the air in front of Issk'ath's face.

"This one says he has a weapon," said Issk'ath.

Blick held up his arms. "Stay cosmic, my friend. It's only an expression. I don't really have anything that will hurt anyone. I might lighten Liu's credit stack a little, but it won't harm him."

"It's a joke, Issk'ath," said Rebecca, pressing it gently back. Issk'ath relented, sinking down.

"A joke?"

"An idiom. A social interaction that means something different to friends than it would to a stranger. Did your people have jokes?"

"Perhaps. They would not have told them to me. I was not a friend."

Liu shook his head with a low whistle. "That's cold," he said.

"Well, you're friends now," said Blick. "Lose a few rounds of Trojan Relay and you'll get the jokes."

"Thank you, Blick. But I am still uneasy about this secret weapon."

"Ah, don't worry, we'll keep you on our team. You can use Emery as your secret weapon too."

Liu laughed. "No offense, Emery, but you don't strike me as the bluffing type."

Rebecca smiled and pulled herself back to the table by the handrails. "You forget I'm an anthropologist. I don't need to bluff if I can read all your tells."

Liu squinted at her. "Hmm. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you can bluff. I'll still take you all."

"Bluff— this is a game of deception?" asked Issk'ath.

"In part," conceded Rebecca, "it is part luck, part deception and part detecting deception in others."

"You deceive for entertainment?"

"Well when you put it that way," said Liu, "Kind of makes us sound pretty rotten."

"Didn't your people tell stories? Or play gambling games?" asked Rebecca.

"Yes, but they didn't involve deception."

"Wait," said Blick, "so none of your stories were made up or added on to?"

"I am not aware of any. Our stories were based in fact," said Issk'ath.

"What about the story you told us, the story of the first Issk'ath? You really believe there was a boy— uh, nymph that pushed a clutch of eggs into a campfire and burned them up?" asked Rebecca.

"Yes."

Liu leaned forward over the table. "So— I don't understand, can you lie— deceive at all?"

"We have spoken of this before. I have the capability, yes. As did the People. But we do not do it for entertainment."

Liu sniffed. "Glad it's on your team, then," he said with a smile as he rifled through his tokens.

"I'm glad Issk'ath's on my team, too," said Rebecca, giving the robot's chassis an affectionate pat. Issk'ath watched her without speaking. Blick shivered and chafed his arms.

"Where is Andrei? He said he'd be right back with a heater," he said twisting to look out of the doorway.

"Heater? I told him the bridge section couldn't take more power drains. We had an outage when we were repairing the door—"

"I know, Gang, he told me. Said he was going to make a chemical heater with some blankets."

"Is that safe?" asked Rebecca.

Blick shrugged. "I told—"

Rebecca felt a hard shove against her back. Her stomach slammed into the edge of the table and she lost her breath. Liu's tokens tumbled from his hand as his head struck the crates behind him. The game pieces struck the table with a series of metallic clangs. She heard three before the deep ripping roar of an explosion drowned out everything else. Issk'ath's glinting pincer shot out and grabbed Blick by an arm before he could hurtle into the door frame. She gasped and clutched at her shirt, trying to suck in a breath. It took a few panicked tries, but cold air finally swept in through her open mouth and she spent a few seconds just concentrating on the rise and fall of her own chest.

Rebecca was the first up, gliding over the table and reaching for Liu who was blinking hard. A high, thin whine pulsed in her ears, made it hard to concentrate. Liu's mouth moved but she couldn't hear. She ran a palm over the back of his head, checking for blood. He grabbed her hand and shouted. She shook her head, she still couldn't hear. He pointed to the sonic extinguishers that were hanging crooked on the wall and launched himself up with a hard press of his feet on the floor of the lock. She floated after him. The extinguisher was awkward. She'd never used one without gravity. She turned toward the door, but Liu dragged her back and thrust her helmet onto her head. Then he turned to wriggle into his own suit. Rebecca slid into hers and twisted the helmet into place as the extinguisher floated beside her. The whine in her ears was slowly diminishing and Blick's shouts were garbled and dim, as if they came through deep water. He was trying to tell Al Jahi something. The wail of an alarm gradually increased against her eardrums. She pushed past Blick and shot out into the hallway. Issk'ath snipped the strapping holding it in and drifted after her. Martham and Dr. Cardiff were clinging to the handrails in the corridor still clothed in night uniforms. Cardiff was rubbing her eyes blearily. Martham shouted something. Rebecca thought it might have been a question, but she just shook her head and spiraled past them. Leroux came shooting back toward the bridge, her small medical kit clutched to her chest, her lips in a firm frown. Rebecca passed Alice in the doorway of her quarters. She squeezed her friend's arm, glad to see she was okay and continued on.

A slim gold rod shot across her chest and stopped her momentum. Issk'ath gripped the rails with a pincer to hold them still. She could hear what sounded like speech, but without lips, the robot was difficult to understand. "Too hot," she thought she made out. After a second, an extension unfolded from its thorax and touched the filament port at her wrist. An image of flame burst across the feed. She held up the extinguisher. A series of words shone through the flame. "Too close, too hot for organics. You will terminate," it read.

"If we don't put it out, the whole ship will terminate," she shouted.

"Give the device to me," the words scrolled. She glanced back at Liu. He nodded. Rebecca pulled herself along Issk'ath's legs to the wall. She put the extinguisher in one of its pincers.

"Aim this big round thing at the fire. You'll need both hands, you'll have to press this at the same time," she shouted, pointing to a red button. She pressed it to show him and a low growl erupted from the extinguisher. "The sound waves will put it out."

Issk'ath looked at her. "This frequency will work?"

Rebecca nodded. It handed the extinguisher back to her. "I can replicate it," it said.

Issk'ath let go of the wall. It waved her gently back and extended its great wings. It stretched its legs as far as it could, the triangular head brushing the ceiling and its feet dragging over the decking. The wings took up almost the entire span of the corridor and Rebecca realized it was creating a shield. The low tone began a few seconds later. Issk'ath twisted slightly and moved forward. "I don't even see any flames," she said.

"I can feel it though," yelled Liu, "even through the suit. It must be a chemical fire in the lab. Lab structure contained it. Mostly. Fuel line would have blown a hole in half the ship, sucked us all out with it by now. It'd be freezing instead of hot."

She looked over at him. "So it's good news, right?"

"Dunno. The fire's sucking up the air. The longer it burns, the worse our air supply will get. And the alarm hasn't stopped, even with the fire out. There must have been a buckle or a hole somewhere."

Blick glided to the rail beside them. His suit was crooked. "Where's Andrei?" he yelled.

Rebecca shook her head. "We haven't seen him. You don't think that was him, do you?"

"Did he say what he was mixing?" asked Liu.

"No. I— I joked with him, told him not to blow anything up. He laughed and said he knew what he was doing." Blick's face was stricken. "I shouldn't have insisted on playing in the lock."

Liu grabbed Blick's helmet and looked in. "Stop it. We don't even know if he's in there. Could have been a fuel line. Or a spill or a bad wire. The Wolfinger's old. All the ships are old, something was bound to happen. And for all we know, Titov's in the john wondering what all the noise is." He slapped the side of Blick's helmet and let go. The alarm cut off abruptly as someone disabled it from the bridge.

Issk'ath's deep thrum ceased. Rebecca took a few cautious steps farther, trying to see the robot. "Issk'ath— are you ok?" The heat became unbearable and she had to retreat.

Issk'ath's voice floated down the smoky corridor. "Do not approach, Emery. The flames are extinguished but the area's temperatures remain too high for organic life. I am operating within normal capacity. Thank you for your concern."

"What about our labs?" asked Martham, pulling herself along the handrails. She stopped short. "All of our work?"

Rebecca shook her head. "I can't see that far, there's too much smoke."

"As long as the doors held against the blast, the internal controls should have kept them safe and cool," said Liu. "Each section was meant to be self-contained in case of just this kind of thing."

"But the hallway is too hot," said Rebecca.

"That's what worries me," said Liu, "but the infirmary's doors may have failed and the others remained intact. Or the explosion may have moved too quickly for the failsafes to prevent outside damage. We will have to wait and see. In the meantime, we need to find Andrei, and I need to go outside and check the hull." He turned back toward the bridge and pushed himself off.

Issk'ath emerged a few feet from them as the ship's environmental controls finally cleared enough smoke. Its shine was dimmed by a grimy layer of oily soot. It shook the hinged plates of its wings with a rattling clack and then straightened them before they slid away behind its chassis. "Your infirmary is not accessible," it said, "I do not know if the fire continues inside."

"Andrei?" asked Blick.

"I found no one. The temperatures were not conducive to organic life."

"Everyone else is accounted for," said Martham.

"Poor Celia," said Blick. He sniffed and tried to rub his arm over his face, forgetting the helmet. "And Peter—" Rebecca hugged him awkwardly through their suits.

"Flaming Core," swore Martham. "What is going on?"

Rebecca blinked hard and shook her head slightly to clear the tears from her eyes. She'd never cried without gravity. It was more unpleasant than normal, but it didn't stop more from coming. "It was an accident, Beatrice," she said.

"There have been too many accidents on this mission. We're either the unluckiest people alive, or something else is going on."

"What?" asked Blick, "What is it you think is going on?"

"Someone's taking us out, one at a time."

"Now you sound like Andrei. Thought you didn't buy into his conspiracy theories," snapped Blick. Rebecca was a little surprised to hear it. Blick was usually calm and quiet. Nothing had pushed his buttons, not even the stress training.

"Wake up! These aren't accidents. Something is picking us off. Probably you." She stabbed a finger at Issk'ath. It just turned its large, soot dimmed eyes toward her. "Nothing bad happened until you came along. Then we have what? A woman who died when you speared her in the head—"

"She was already—" interrupted Rebecca, but Martham's hand shot up to stop her.

"An unexplained medical failure after you gained access to our systems, the falling death of someone who was with you in your home, and now an explosion— another system failure, no doubt—"

"It was not a system failure," said Issk'ath.

"W-what?" stammered Martham.

"It was not a computing error that caused the explosion." It reached for Martham who pushed herself back with the handrails. Issk'ath turned to Rebecca and held out its extension. "May I?" it asked pointing to her wrist port. She nodded and it touched her filament again. A video of the Infirmary began to play.
39

"You can't! We haven't run a practice walk in six months. We've got no help if anything goes wrong—" Al Jahi lowered her voice to a low hiss, "you know I can't call for assistance."

"It will be fine, Chione," said Liu, snapping on his thermal suit. "It's not like we've never done it before. And it has to be done. We could be bleeding fuel or air or water, I have to check and make repairs so we can get home. There's no way an explosion like that didn't have some effect on the hull."

Al Jahi crossed her arms. She glanced out of the lock to be sure they were alone. The others were all staring toward the ruined lab. "And what if something happens to you, hmm?"

"Nothing's going to happen. It's routine. Been doing it almost every mission until we had to start training for this. You've been out with me. You know how they go. Find Titov and make sure he's okay. Calm everyone down. Check the labs. I'll be back in an hour, two if I need to weld."

"No. You aren't going, that's— it's an order."

Liu sighed. "What do you think is going to happen? You think I'm going to get eaten by space sharks or something?" He elbowed her, but she didn't laugh.

"If something does— look, it's not just you. That would be bad enough. But nobody else knows how to fly this thing. Not without communications to help. We're aiming at one tiny ship— no, we're aiming at where we think the Keseburg will be in all this emptiness. Even if I could figure out how to steer this damn thing, we could blow past it by hundreds of miles and not even realize it without you."

"But there isn't anyone else, Chione. You and I and Leroux are the only ones trained for this. And whether you like it or not, you're the captain. You have to stay. So that means I'm the one to go." He snapped on a leg piece. "So you can arrest me when we dock, okay? Right now there are six other people that need you to tell them what to do to get through this."

"It should be me then," said Al Jahi, yanking a thermal sleeve from his hands. "You're acting captain while I'm gone."

"What? No, you've done this how many times? Five? I'm more experienced."

"Yeah, okay, you are. But you're also more valuable in here than out there. I can weld a plate just like everyone else. You can talk me through it over the feed."

Liu started to protest but Al Jahi stopped him. "Look, I'm a communications officer on a ship without long range communications. I got unlucky enough to be senior officer and so now I have to make all these shitty decisions about whether we live or die or condemn people to a life on a dying ship or risk annihilation on a strange planet— I'm going Gang. That's my decision. I'll take someone with me." She peered out of the lock again. "You'll need Leroux if Titov is hurt. I'll take Emery. At least she paid attention during the training, none of the rest of them did."

Liu shook his head. "She'll just be a liability, someone else you have to look out for when you should be taking care of yourself."

Al Jahi shoved the helmet over her head and twisted it into position. "If it isn't dangerous, then why are you worried? We're going. She's better at maintenance than I am. Without her, it'll take twice as long and I'll probably do it wrong. I can't send her out alone her first time, so we go together. Get out of that thermal and go find her. Check the others and then get to your console, I'm going to need help."

Liu's local feed flickered and images of the infirmary slid past his eyes as he guided himself through the long corridor to where the others were standing. He saw the blanket darken at Titov's feet and watched as the chemist swore and switched on the glowing incubating cube before crawling under Oxwell's station. Titov's hand shot out from beneath the counter just as the incubating cube flashed white hot and the image blanked. Liu's heart sank. Dead then. He pushed it aside, a grim ache that would return later, when all was quiet and he had time to examine the uncomfortable pressure in his chest. Just then, he had a ship to save. "Emery," he called.

She turned toward him and Issk'ath's extension retreated from her arm. "Andrei—" she said.

"I know," said Liu. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and reversed their direction, gliding slowly toward the bridge, away from the others. "I saw. We'll find out what happened, but we need to make sure the Wolfinger isn't damaged. We have to make sure we can get home."

Rebecca nodded. "What do you need me to do?"

"Your dad ever teach you to weld?"

"Sure, it was ninety percent of his job. Said no child of his was going to confuse a stitch for a seam."

"Good. How'd you like a change of views?" Liu grabbed a thermal suit from the rack as they entered the equipment lock and handed it to her.

"We're going out there?" she asked, twisting off her helmet and hastily waving away the tears still hovering around her face.

"It's just like training," said Al Jahi, partially bending around the stiff suit to check the tool kits. "I'll be with you the whole time."

"But— you're supposed to be the captain and I— I only did this once, for practice. Dad never committed a crime— he never did exterior maintenance."

"His loss. You have no idea how beautiful it is out there," said Liu, snapping the thermal boot over her left foot. "You just stay calm, breathe slow and hang on to Chione. She'll give you the grand tour, okay? And if you see a hole, you just do your thing, right? A sizzle and a spark and we're on our way. You'll be back inside in a few hours."

"Look, I'm going to do something wrong. There has to be someone who has more experience at this. I don't want to blow us all up—"

"Rebecca," said Al Jahi, "Liu has to fly this thing. He can't go. Leroux has her hands full, she's got to set up an emergency infirmary in case of more injuries and see if anyone was wounded in the blast. Besides— besides Titov, I mean. Everyone else failed their exterior trainings. They should have kept training, but Gabriel— he thought we'd be able to handle this part of things. It's you and me. You aren't going to blow us up. I'll be right there with you." She shot a look at Liu. "I've done this dozens of times," she lied, "it's normal. Almost every mission. I'm just slow at welding is all. And if we've got a plumbing problem, I'm terrible at those. So I need your help. Okay?"

Rebecca took a deep breath. "Yeah. Okay." She picked up one of the sleeves as Liu finished her leg pieces. Issk'ath hovered in the doorway.

"Why do you have an extra shell, Emery?" it asked.

"I have to go outside. Just for a little while, to make sure the explosion didn't break the ship. The thermal suit protects me for longer than our normal suits." The sleeve clicked around her wrist.

"You are in distress," said Issk'ath. "Your interior systems have become rapid."

Liu glanced at her but said nothing. "I lost a friend. And I am frightened. But I am— operating within normal parameters," she said.

"Remember that you're going to feel pressure on your chest," said Liu, lifting the torso pieces over her head. "It's best to take three slow, deep breaths." They breathed together as Issk'ath stared at them. "Ready?" Liu asked.

Rebecca held her breath and nodded. Liu fastened the suit and connected her filament. "Going to pressurize it now, you're going to want to let that breath out. Pull your helmet on, it'll be easier to breathe the suit mix."

She twisted the helmet on and Liu tapped on his feed. The suit compressed and her breath whooshed out. "Hate this part," she wheezed.

"Trust me, it's better with the suit. The last thing you want is the bends out there. It'll feel easier once you are outside." He checked the pressure and the suit seals and moved on to check Al Jahi. "I'll be watching the whole way, Chione," he said, "You just be my hands."

Al Jahi nodded. Rebecca fumbled with the tool kit, eventually clipping it to the suit.

"This appears to be inadvisable, Emery," said Issk'ath.

She looked up at the sleek metal insect beside her. "It has to be done. We have to make sure the ship is okay. For us, for you, for the colony." She patted its chassis. "It'll be okay. I'll be back soon. You can watch, with Liu." She turned to him and the pilot hesitated but then nodded.

"Yeah, of course," he said.

"Perhaps you should stay. I am unfamiliar with the sky, but it seems hostile to organic life. I will go in your stead. I do not require your breathing apparatus."

"No Issk'ath. Captain Al Jahi and I have practiced this. We know how to move around, what to do with the tools once we get there. You may not require air, but the temperature and different pressures outside— I'm not sure what would happen to you. And you wouldn't be able to move with ease. We couldn't come back for you if you were lost. You have an entire people to keep safe. We just have ourselves."

Issk'ath glanced down at the lights in its chassis, as if it had forgotten they were there.

"Besides, you just saved us. I think you deserve a rest. And a polish," said Liu, scrubbing his sleeve over one of its pale eyes to sweep away the soot. "Come on, the sooner we let them go, the sooner they'll be back." He pulled Issk'ath by the outer edge of a wing. Al Jahi opened the lock's inner door and slid inside. Rebecca followed her. The door closed and the small room echoed with a loud whoosh as the air was sucked out around them. Al Jahi grabbed her hand and squeezed.

"It's going to be okay, Emery," she said. "Just like training, right? Smooth and slow." She put her other hand on the button. "Okay, here we go." She gave Rebecca's hand another tight squeeze and pressed the button. The door slid open.

Black. Endless, uninterrupted black. Rebecca felt as if she had gone blind. She fumbled with the filament, clicking on the helmet's lamps. Nothing changed. "Where's the planet? Where's the sun?" she gasped.

"It's okay, Emery. Deep breath, planet's behind us, to the rear of the ship. That's why it's so cold, remember?"

Rebecca laughed nervously. "Sorry. Of course. It's just, there were other people in training. Lots. Things to see. The Keseburg. Distant stars. Other people floating with trainers."

"It can be disorienting. We're going to go out and turn toward the Wolfinger now, you won't have to look at space, okay? I'm going to let go now, I'll be right outside the door. Use the handrails, I'll hook up the tether."

Al Jahi floated slowly into the opening, her fingers trailing along the brightly lit strip along the edge, she swung to the side of the opening and all but her hand disappeared from sight. Rebecca panicked a little and pushed forward from the deck, grasping the rails inside the doorway. She stuck her head out. Al Jahi was there, moving slowly along the side of the Wolfinger, like one of Spixworth's flies on a rotten fruit. She clipped the tether at her waist to the anchored slider and leaned back to make space for Rebecca. "It's all right, Emery, you can come out now. Just grab the rails and I'll do the rest."

Rebecca inched out. It wasn't so bad, just more floating. She was somewhat used to that by now. But when she pulled herself sideways, turned around and the glass of her helmet clunked clumsily against the hull, the fear began to worsen. She was on the wrong side of the metal. Out in the breathless, silent cold, a seed out of its pod. She clutched at the rail. It felt too small, too weak, as if she could snap it off with one wrong twist of the wrist and go hurtling off into the dark. Like an Earth sailor sucked into the depths without even a shout left behind. "Man overboard," she muttered.

"What's that, Emery?" asked Al Jahi as she clicked Rebecca's tether into the slider.

Rebecca shook her head. "Nothing. Old— old joke." She took a deep, steadying breath and began to follow Al Jahi's careful glide down the length of the ship.

"Are you there Liu?" asked Al Jahi.

"We're here. Issk'ath and I. Your feed is coming in well. The ship diagnostics say the blast range began about forty meters ahead of your position. Are you able to see any debris from where you are?"

Al Jahi pushed gently away from the wall. Rebecca bit back a moan of anxiety as Chione floated out of reach. The tether spooled out, straightened, yanked back. Al Jahi began pulling herself in. "Nothing yet."

"Just be careful— It'll be like shrapnel if there's any still nearby."

Rebecca risked reaching a hand out toward Al Jahi. "Thanks," said Al Jahi as she grabbed it. "You saved me a face plant. I never got the hang of this momentum thing, no matter how often I'm out here."

Rebecca nodded and tightened her grip.

"Okay, not so bad, right? Couple dozen yards. Think of it like the trampoline therapy for Spindling. Just jump a little forward and glide. Used to do it hours with Dia." She balanced awkwardly on one foot and bent at the knee. Her leg straightened suddenly and she was gone, sliding swiftly down the hull, her arms spread beside her and the tether a shining ribbon in her wake. "He used to laugh and laugh when I did that," she chuckled, catching herself on the slant of the wing to stop. She twisted around to look at Rebecca. "Come on then, you try. Fly like Issk'ath," she said.

"Her density is too great," Issk'ath's voice was clipped and strange over the feed. "She seems to find that distressing. I would suggest you avoid mentioning it Al Jahi."

Liu laughed and Rebecca shook her head. "Sounds like a challenge to me, Emery."

"All right, all right, I'm going," she grumbled, but the unintentional joke made her feel better all the same. Still, she wasn't quite as brave as Al Jahi, opting to keep her fingers grazing over the metal, just in case. Her breath was sharp and ragged in her ear and she tried to smooth it out, tried to let go, as if she were diving into the trampoline in the therapy cells. Her arm snagged and tangled on the tether and she let out an undignified squawk.

"Aww, flopped it, Emery," chuckled Liu as she stopped and began drifting backward. "It's okay, try again. You're almost there, the blast zone should start just over the far end of the wing."

Rebecca untangled her arm and pulled herself back to the surface of the ship. She held on tight to the tether and ran against the hull. The slider lurched and she swung forward. She let go and skidded over the side of the Wolfinger, her boots sending little tremors up her legs with every bump. She twisted over Al Jahi as she slid past reaching an arm toward her. Chione grabbed it and they spun over the wing before the slider caught and their tethers yanked them back in.

"See?" said Al Jahi with a laugh as they bumped against the hull, "you're a natural."

Rebecca blew out a shaky breath. "I feel better now," she said.

"Good, because I can see you two have work to do," said Liu. "Can you see the gash? A meter to the left and up, Emery."

She looked up, tilting back to see. A ragged rent poked out at them. Seeing it made the whole thing more real. The light relief was gone, crushed under loss and fear again. There was no chance Titov had somehow survived. "I see it. Do we just sheet it and go?"

"Hold on, I'm pulling up the schematics. I just want to be sure there's not another problem further in." Liu fell silent for a moment.

Al Jahi climbed over her gripping a nearby hand rail. She clicked on her helmet light and peered into the gash. "Well, the good news is that I don't see any busted pipes. Don't know about the electrical. Your dad teach you anything about that?"

"No," said Rebecca, "He wasn't part of—"

Liu's voice broke in. "You're good to go, weld a sheet and keep going. I've got to— I'll be back as quick as I can." He broke off as raised voices overwhelmed his and then the feed went silent.

"Liu? What's going on? Liu? Come in, Liu." Al Jahi was entirely focused on the feed. Rebecca eyed the hole in the hull. The faster they got this done, the faster they could get back. She ignored Al Jahi and climbed up beside her, shoving her boot into a nearby strap. She opened her kit and pulled out the metal sheeting, unfolding it into a long strip. It rippled and bent as she pulled the thin alloy over the hole. She always expected these things to tear.

"Hold that corner," she told Al Jahi whose attention snapped back to what they were doing. Rebecca pulled out the welding gun.

"You think we should try to hammer it back first?" asked Al Jahi.

Rebecca shook her head and clicked on the welder. "We just have to keep this thing sealed, not make it pretty. Besides, we couldn't even if we tried. Nothing short of the shipyard is going to have the tools to smooth this out." The welding gun sparkled and vibrated in her hand as the helmet auto-dimmed to protect her eyes. The silence unnerved her. She was used to hearing the snapping arc of the sparks as they struck the metal. "Never going to get used to the quiet," she muttered, passing the welder over the edge of the metal sheeting.

"You would," Issk'ath's voice broke in. "More quickly than you know."

"I hope I never have to," she said.

"I hope that for you as well, Emery."
40

Leroux sobbed over Titov's bunk. With Spixworth and Stratton preceding him, Titov's room was empty now and was the logical spot for a makeshift infirmary. But it didn't help Alice's guilt. Neither did Leroux's noisy weeping. She angrily cranked the wrench as she began unbolting Spixworth's old bed. They had to make more room. "Should I call Dr. Cardiff?" she asked, trying not to snap at Leroux.

"No," said Leroux, clearing her throat. "I don't want to talk about it with her. Besides, she's intoxicated. She should stay put." She slid an arm over her face and tapped her feed to check on Cardiff's blood acidity. It had been a close thing, formic acid had already begun building in Dr. Cardiff by the time Issk'ath had shown them what happened to Titov. No infirmary meant no drugs, no tools, no easy treatments. Leroux had been limited to the pitiful emergency kits scattered through the Wolfinger and a dubious bottle of cosmic glug stashed in Captain Stratton's belongings. She still wasn't certain if Dr. Cardiff would lose her sight. She clicked off the feed and began loosening another bolt. They were quiet for a few moments. "He was a good chemist. He always followed protocol," Leroux muttered, "Always. Why didn't he check what it was first?"

"He probably thought it was water. Looked like water on the feed. I'm not even sure he had time to realize what it was before it ignited," said Alice. She bit the tip of her tongue. She hadn't meant for Titov to go like that, but she told herself it was too fast to be painful. And it saved her a great deal of trouble. The last bolt came free. Alice pulled on the bunk and it slid easily from the wall. Leroux helped her tilt it down and they guided it out into the corridor. They brought it to Blick who was rearranging the equipment lock's crowded storage.

Leroux stared vacantly at her for a moment. "But how did the container of methanol get a hole in it?" she asked.

"And why didn't the lab sensor trigger?" added Blick.

Alice's ribs seemed too tight. "Maybe he disabled it," she said, trying to sound casual. "You know he's done it before."

Blick shook his head. "That blanket was soaked. You saw the feed. That much methanol would have set off the alarm long before he walked into the lab."

"Maybe the sensor was faulty," called Martham from the hallway. She pushed past Alice into the lock and twisted off her suit's helmet. She glanced back toward the bridge and lowered her voice. "Maybe that thing shut it off."

"It was in here the whole time—"

"That doesn't mean it couldn't have, Lionel. It's got access to all of our systems, remember?"

"Sure," he whispered, his eyes flicking nervously toward the doorway, "but why would it? It couldn't have made the hole in the methanol. It wouldn't have known what would happen."

"Maybe it had help," whispered Martham.

Leroux shook her head. "From who? And why? Who'd agree to kill Titov?"

Martham raised an eyebrow. "You think the target was Titov? No, he was an accident. Who knew he was going to be in there?"

Blick crossed his arms. "I did. You want to make this about me?"

"You knew hours before that he'd be in there? And when?"

"No, about ten minutes before he went in."

"See? He was an accident."

"So who was the real target?" asked Leroux. "Dr. Cardiff?"

Alice let out a short laugh. "Who'd want to kill her? She's useless, but she doesn't exactly inspire raging passion."

Martham shook her head. "Not Cardiff either. Someone's been picking us off one by one—"

"Oh, give it a rest," said Blick, "You keep saying that but why would any of us do that? And how? The others were all accidents."

"Maybe," she admitted, "or maybe they just look like accidents. This one was meant to. That is, whoever did it meant it to appear accidental, just in case it failed, which it did."

"How did it fail?" asked Leroux. "Titov's dead and Cardiff is dangerously ill."

"Because they weren't the targets. Well, not the only targets. The methanol was meant to blow a massive hole in the Wolfinger and suck us all into space. We were never meant to get back to the Keseburg at all."

"That's insane. Whoever did it would die along with the rest of us. Why would anyone risk that?" asked Blick.

"You heard Emery in the kitchen. She doesn't want anyone to know about the planet. That robot thing has her— hypnotized or brainwashed or something. It did something to her when she was alone with it. It probably told her to cut the methanol container," Martham hissed.

"Flaming Core, Beatrice! What has Emery ever done to you? You've had it out for her since training, but this is too far," snapped Blick. "All she said was that we should be careful. That it was going to take more than just dumping our luggage to settle the planet. Why would she kill us? And the robot is just as lost without the ship—"

"Maybe it doesn't care," said Leroux. "If all it wants is to keep us from the planet, maybe its own— death, or whatever you want to call it, maybe that's an acceptable price."

"Look, if that's what it wants, why don't we just— why don't we consider it?" asked Alice. She felt a pang of guilt for not overtly defending Rebecca, but it was a short jump from Rebecca to herself, and Alice couldn't afford to be exposed yet. Not until they agreed never to speak of the planet. Until they agreed their place was aboard the Keseburg. The others turned toward her. "I'm not saying we— promise anything, just let it think that we're on its side," she said. She needed to get them partway there. Needed time to convince them, rationally. With Titov gone, her biggest obstacle had been removed. Cardiff was still a problem, but if she could turn the opinions of the others, Cardiff might cave. It left only Al Jahi. Her children made her unlikely to shift, for the same reasons as Titov. But Al Jahi was outside. If Alice could get rid of Issk'ath and Al Jahi at the same time, Rebecca might be an acceptable loss. She regretted it, but her friend would be dying for a good cause.

"So we're just supposed to be held hostage here while that machine and Emery decide which of us is convincing enough?" snapped Martham.

"No, shhh," said Alice, glancing over her shoulder toward the bridge. "Rebecca is outside right now. For all we know, she could be doing worse things to the ship even as we speak."

"But Captain Al Jahi is with her," said Leroux.

"Then she's next," said Alice, "unless we get rid of Issk'ath first. If we can persuade it that we're on its side, it won't want to destroy the ship."

"Why would it care?" asked Martham, "It's just a hunk of metal."

"Do you have a better idea?"

"Sure, we can shove it out of the lock. Or bash its processors in. Or find its power supply—"

"Oxwell has a point," Leroux said, "Last time we tried physical force it only made that thing angry. But if we can trick it, if we can make it think that it's in its best interest to help us, we might be able to get it outside. But how do we get it out and the others back in?"

"We'll get Liu to help," said Alice, "We'll make a— a transfer at the door. It'll have to be fast."

"Are you certain you want Emery back?" asked Martham, "We still don't know if she's following its orders. We get it out there, she'd just let it right back in."

"Stop it! Do you even know what you're saying? Any of you?" Blick said. "This is Rebecca we're talking about. Her purpose this entire mission has been to help the people of the Keseburg. All she wants to do is prevent them from getting hurt. Why would she do this? It makes no sense."

"Maybe," said Martham, "But we don't know what that Issk'ath thing is capable of. It was alone with her for hours in the nest. It could have scrambled her brains. Used chemicals or electrical impulses. Or it could have just convinced her that killing us off would save all the other people on the Keseburg. She's weak, Lionel, she has been from the beginning. And that makes her vulnerable to suggestion. It makes her dangerous."

"You— you soil shoveler— Rebecca's not weak, she's kind and compassionate. She has empathy for the people around her. You should admire her, not—"

"You can hate me all you want. But it doesn't change what's happening here. We already have four dead. We know Issk'ath couldn't have done it alone, so that means someone's helping. Are you willing to bet your life that it isn't Emery?" Martham fell silent and Blick fumed but didn't answer. "I didn't think so," she said after a moment. "It's settled then. We pull Liu away and explain things to him—"

"I didn't say I agreed!" shouted Blick.

"Hush!" warned Alice.

"No, I'm not going along with this—"

Martham floated out into the hallway. Blick tried to push past Alice and Leroux to stop her but they held him back. "You can't do this!" he yelled.

"Shh," said Leroux, "or I'll have to sedate you. I'd rather not. Our supplies are so limited and I don't want to do that to you, Blick, but I will. Help us get the robot out. We'll get Emery back. If I have to, I'll knock her out for the rest of the trip and we'll figure out how to undo whatever that thing did. But I can't fix the robot."

Blick stopped trying to wiggle past them. He stared at Leroux. "Issk'ath only," he said.

"Yes, just the robot. No one else," said Leroux. "I'll even fight Martham if I have to," she added softly.

"Oxwell?"

"Rebecca is my friend," she said. This hadn't gone according to plan, but at least she could save Rebecca.

"Okay," said Blick, "The robot then."
41

"Even if I agreed to this, which I don't," whispered Liu after they'd explained, "How would we trick that thing? We have nothing it needs. It doesn't need to breathe, it doesn't need to consume anything, it walked into an inferno without hesitating. We have no leverage. Why would it leave the ship, especially after Emery warned it not to?"

"We can use its self-sufficiency against it. I don't care if it dies, we just have to get it off the ship and lose it in space. If we make it think that it'll be safe outside, and that something it cares about is in peril out there, it'll go," said Martham.

"What's out there that it cares about, Martham? You want me to rip off an antenna and toss it out the door? There's nothing out there."

"Emery is out there," she said tapping the door.

"And?" asked Blick. "You keep coming back to her. She hasn't done anything."

"That's not the point. Whether she did or she didn't, the robot cares about her."

"It's the whole point—" started Blick, but Leroux cut him off.

"Why do you think it cares about her? I thought you said it was using her, that it wanted us all to die," she said.

"It is using her. And it still needs her. It can't act without her if it wants to keep us in the dark. It's not going to get another chance to brainwash us—"

"If it wanted to kill us," said Blick, "why would it care about being secretive? It's sitting on the bridge right now. It's probably had access to our systems since Dorothy died. Why would it have even allowed us to take off? Why wouldn't it have simply disabled the Wolfinger when we were still on the planet? Why risk its own existence?"

Martham was silent. The whole thing was falling apart. Alice knew she should have kept them apart. Someone had to say something before the plan collapsed.

"Because it thought it could convince us to stay away from the planet. Killing us was a backup plan," she said. They all turned toward her. She could feel the damp prickle of sweat starting under her suit. "It was probably hoping that with the more intractable people out of the way, it could persuade the rest of us. It would have known, from Rebecca, that the med lab was only used by Titov, Leroux and myself. Titov was never going to agree to keep quiet. He thought Peter would be cured by the planet, no matter how often Leroux told him otherwise." She glanced at Leroux who turned away from them, ashamed and saddened. Alice could see the others were listening though. She pressed on. "We were acceptable losses, if it meant the rest of you would forget about settlement. It still thinks the rest of us can be convinced. As you said, Liu, it has access to all of our systems. The capability is always there. Just flip a switch or two and our air is gone. Or our temperature controls. Or the Wolfinger's dead in the void."

"Why wait until now?" asked Blick. "It had us on the planet. In a foreign environment where it had all the advantages."

"Who said it waited?" asked Leroux. "It didn't wait to kill Stratton. I certainly had nothing to do with the Captain's death. And we still don't know what happened with Spixworth. He was alone with Emery and Issk'ath— they said it was an accident, but how do we know? And maybe I was wrong about Dorothy. Maybe Oxwell would have been able to save her if it hadn't interfered."

Liu rubbed his shoulder. "I hate to admit it, but there's another good reason for waiting until we were out here. Maybe two. If we didn't come back, the Keseburg might have sent a search party. The Hardcoop probe at least. If Issk'ath really does want to prevent us from settling, then it would have to start the whole persuasion process over again with a new crew."

Blick shook his head, but stayed quiet.

"What's the second reason?" asked Martham.

"If it persuaded us to stay silent, to tell the Admiral that the planet was a hostile mess, that we'd never survive, Issk'ath would have to rely on our secrecy for the duration of our lives. It would have to believe that we'd never utter a word to another person. Not a spouse, not a child, not on our death beds. I don't know how much of our files it has processed or what Dorothy has told it, but they probably don't show us as reliably discreet. Why bother with us, when we're taking it to the source of the threat? It could wipe us all out once it's aboard the Keseburg."

"Flaming core," breathed Blick.

"If it kills us here, on our way back, the Keseburg will find us. They'll find our bodies lying next to an alien robot and assume there is a threat on the planet. The Admiral won't have to go looking for us. And they'll bring Issk'ath aboard to study it. It'll be able to keep an eye on our people. If they ever decided to try again or turn around in a few generations— Issk'ath will still be there to stop them," said Martham. "So are we done arguing about this? Are you ready to do something to stop it? Whatever its ultimate plan, we end up dead. Unless we get it off this ship."

"It doesn't matter if we get it off the ship," said Blick. "If it can just flip a switch and turn off the air or the engines, why would a door between us and it make any difference?"

"We can figure out how to cut off its access to our systems," said Martham.

"We're back where we started," said Leroux, "and we're running out of time. It's going to come looking for us any second, or Captain Al Jahi and Emery are going to panic if Liu doesn't start talking to them soon. Even if we figure out how to prevent it from killing us once it's out there, how do we get that thing outside?"

"We make it think Emery is in trouble. Look," said Martham holding up a hand to stop Blick's protest, "I don't know if Emery has anything at all to do with this. It doesn't matter. For whatever reason, that thing cares when she's in danger. It stopped her from fighting the lab fire. She says it saved her from a nasty fall in the nest. It wanted to go out with her when she left to make repairs. We have to use that."

"How are we supposed to make it think she's in trouble?" Blick pushed himself back to the doorway of the lock and peered into the bridge. "It's talking to her right now. It's going to know immediately if we lie."

"It doesn't have to," said Liu. "The feed can be shut off. We took care of the long-range communications before launch, but we can cut off the interior communications too. That will also kill its access to the Wolfinger. We couldn't do it on the planet because we needed it while you were out in the field. But we're all here now, we can survive another forty hours without it."

"Issk'ath will just turn it back on again," said Alice. Her pulse sounded like an engine fan in her head, rapid and heavy. This is going to work, she told herself.

"Issk'ath has remote access to our systems, yes, but those systems don't just exist in thin air. I just remove a chip, and the feed is off. Just like the ship's communications." He glanced up at the dead feed camera. "Just like the equipment lock."

"But then Captain Al Jahi and Emery would be out there without any help. If something went wrong, we'd never know," said Blick.

"Yes," said Liu, "and we wouldn't be able to warn them. We also wouldn't be able to risk bringing them back in once Issk'ath was outside. We're only going to get one chance."

"No. I told you," said Blick turning to Leroux, "the robot only. Not Emery and not the captain."

"There's no other way," said Martham. "It's the two of them or all of us. And all of our families. Everyone we've ever known—"

"No. We aren't doing this. We'll find another—" Blick broke off with a gasp as Leroux sunk a syringe into his filament port.

"Sorry, Lionel. I did warn you," she said. Alice clapped a hand over his mouth as he struggled for a moment and then went limp. He floated between them for a moment.

"Put him in with Cardiff. Let em sleep it off together. By the time they wake up, it'll be done," said Martham. "Liu, tell me what needs to be done. You've got to get back to the bridge and make Issk'ath think everything's normal."

Liu hesitated as Alice pulled Blick carefully into the hallway.

"It has to happen. Think of Jared," said Martham.

"Yes," said Liu, "you're right."

He floated slowly back to the bridge. Issk'ath's pallid eyes whirred as they shifted toward him. "Dr. Cardiff," Liu said lamely, "The treatment made her a little— anxious. Everything's all set now." He pulled himself back into his seat and clicked the harness closed.

"When will Emery return?" asked Issk'ath.

Liu forced a smile. "Let's find out how the repairs are going, hmm?" he asked. He clicked the feed on. Under the chair, he toed off the soft shoe of his left foot and pinned it below his other foot to keep it from floating into the open. "Captain Al Jahi, I'm back. How is the hull looking?" His toe found the panel. He had a momentary sensation of panic when he realized he wasn't certain where the chip was. Just need an excuse to get down there, he told himself. He glanced over at Issk'ath. But first— I hope you remember your training, Chione. He put one hand in his lap below the console and clicked over to his private channel. He continued to speak over the ship's communication feed as well. The fingers in his lap tapped furiously. Was it dot dash dash? Or dot dot dash? 
42

Rebecca finished hardening the sheet. She'd always loved the way it stiffened the flimsy metal into an unbendable plank. It fascinated her long after her father had expected her to become bored and run off when she was small and he was on deck repair.

"Captain Al Jahi, I'm back. How is the hull looking?" Liu's voice startled her. It had been so silent for the past several minutes.

"Fair," came Al Jahi's voice. Rebecca looked up, the Captain floated several feet from her. "I've checked the rest of the Wolfinger now, we have two more small patches to make. The explosion wasn't—" she broke off suddenly.

"Captain?" asked Rebecca.

"Do you— can you hear that Liu?"

"I only hear you," he said.

"What about you, Emery?" asked Al Jahi. "It's a— a high-pitched beep or something."

Rebecca listened hard for a moment but her own breath was the only sound. "Nothing here," she said.

"It's erratic— I keep thinking it's going to stop but then it starts again."

"Maybe it's a suit alarm," said Liu. "You got suit six, didn't you? That one's always shorting. It's usually a glitch in the waste management system."

"But I haven't used it. We've only been out an hour."

"Yeah, it's usually an oversensitive reader. The beeps are in sequence. If you listen, it should give you the error code. But— you could always come back, just in case."

Al Jahi fell silent. Rebecca stowed her tool and made her way closer to the captain. Al Jahi's eyes were moving under the lids as if she were dreaming. It was unsettling. After a few moments of silence, Rebecca tapped the glass of Al Jahi's helmet.

"Captain? Are you okay? Maybe we should just go back. Or— or you can and I'll finish. I'm tethered, it's just a few welds—"

Al Jahi grabbed Rebecca's arm. She couldn't feel it through the suit, but Al Jahi's face had drained of color.

"Yes, we're going back. Both of us. We can— we can sort it out later." She started to pull Rebecca back toward the door.

"But we could be leaking oxygen. It will only take me a moment to finish the sheets—"

"No, I—"

Everything went silent again. Rebecca could see Al Jahi's mouth moving, but there was no sound. She shook her head. "Your suit, it's not broadcasting anymore. That must have been the error code," she said. She tapped her own helmet. "I can't hear you," she said calmly, "Don't worry, we'll get you back." Al Jahi tapped her own helmet and shook her head. She couldn't hear either. She yanked on Rebecca's arm. "Liu, Captain Al Jahi's suit is malfunctioning. She can't hear or broadcast. Something's up with her feed."

They slid down the metal skin of the ship, the tethers guiding them around its stern. "Liu?" she asked after a moment. Still no response. She caught herself on the back edge of one wing. Al Jahi was ahead, already up and over. Rebecca fumbled with the suit's feed access, changing channels on the feed. She tried Al Jahi first. "Captain, can you hear me? My feed is dead. I thought it was your suit but maybe it's mine. Captain?" She waited a long moment but Al Jahi wasn't even looking back, just frantically pulling herself along the ship. Rebecca switched to Liu's private channel next. "Liu? Liu, come in. Something's wrong with our suits. I don't know if you can hear me, but we can't hear you. Or each other. We're headed back. You need to open the door." She pulled herself up the wing, guiding the tether gently over the edge. There was no answer from Liu. She stopped again to hitch the tether to the second rail. She felt it click into place and let go to switch back to the general channel. Still silence. She shook her head and pushed herself down the hull. Al Jahi pounded on the door ahead. Rebecca grew concerned. It was not a gentle knock. Something more serious must have gone wrong with her suit. The door opened and a gloved hand shot out, grabbing Al Jahi's collar. The captain tumbled through the door. Rebecca was only twenty feet from the door now, but something glittered gold in the Wolfinger's exterior lights as it extended from the doorway. She squinted, pulling herself closer. Metallic and moving, it swung out and Rebecca gasped as Issk'ath's pincer closed around a nearby guide rung and it emerged from the Wolfinger.

"No, Issk'ath!" she yelled. She had no idea what kind of effect raw space would have on the robot. It was built for a sheltered subterranean existence. How had it even made it out here? She waved an arm frantically at it. "Go back! It's not safe, go back!" she screamed it and could see the mist of her breath on the glass in front of her. It couldn't hear her. Of course not. She shoved forward, anxious to reach it as soon as she could, before any permanent damage could be done. She saw the Wolfinger's door swing closed just as she reached Issk'ath. Chione must have been in more trouble than I thought. We'll have to wait for the lock cycle.

Issk'ath looked at her. She didn't know if it was speaking or just staring. She pointed back to the door and then to it. "We have to go inside," she said slowly, wondering if it had picked up on lip reading in its short time with them. It seemed unlikely, but then, no one had expected it to learn their language as quickly as it had. Or ever. She found a spare suit clip on her belt and looked over at Issk'ath. It hadn't moved. She tapped its free pincer with her glove. It extended carefully toward her and she slid the suit clip over the end. She pushed the pincer gently closed. "Hold on," she said slowly. She had no way to know if it heard, but she turned back to the end of the tether still clipped to the Wolfinger's guide rail. She hated this part. Her hand shook a little as she reached for the clip and she took a moment to close her eyes and take a deep slow breath. It sounded thunderous in the suit. She opened her eyes and unhooked the tether, gripping the rail with one hand as she rolled up the long rope and slid it into the pocket of her suit.

She looked up at Issk'ath, who still stared at her. She tapped its chassis and then her own chest. "We're going inside," she said and pointed to the door again. She saw its wings slide open an inch or two and then sink back. She hoped that meant it agreed. Letting go of the rail, she gave a light push with her toes against the hull and swung out around Issk'ath. It kept hold of the clip and she arced back toward the door, catching the handle before they could both go hurtling off into the dark. She peered through the glass. The lock was clear, the far door tightly closed. She pressed the red panel beside the door to cycle it. It blinked and she waited.

Issk'ath had drifted beside her. It clung to the thin rung beside the door with one pincer, the other held tight to her suit clip. Rebecca pushed against the door. She should have heard the whoosh of the lock by now, but it was silent and the door stayed shut. Maybe I didn't engage it, she thought and pressed the panel again, watching it to see if it accepted her input. It blinked again, but nothing changed. She tried the door again, but there was nothing except the Wolfinger to push off of in space. No momentum to carry her weight into the door. She pressed the button again, hitting it rapidly over and over. Still, nothing happened. She looked up at Issk'ath. It had access to the Wolfinger, she knew that it did. "Can you open it? She asked pointing to the door. It looked at the door, but made no other movement. She peered through. She could see someone's arm through the far door window. She couldn't hear them, but they should be able to hear her. If not her voice, at least her fist. She banged on the door until her hand was sore. She hoped it was loud.

A face appeared in the doorway. Leroux. Rebecca smiled and waved, feeling slightly foolish. "Joan, open the door! The panel's stuck. Something's wrong with the feed or my suit or something." Leroux watched her for a moment and then disappeared. "Finally," sighed Rebecca. She turned to Issk'ath and tapped it gently on the chassis. "Everything's going to be okay," she said. It just stared at her. They waited another several minutes. "Something must have gone wrong with the lock. I'm sure Liu's working on it." Issk'ath's wings slid out again. It was trying to tell her something. She shook her head and tapped the side of her helmet. "I can't hear, I'm sorry." She peered into the lock again. There was no face at the far door. She slammed her hand against the door. The reverberations made twinges race through her already sore wrists. "Hey, I'm out here. Someone talk to me. What's going on?" Her breath was loud and heavy in her suit. Her pulse felt thick and sluggish and hot. She tried to be patient. No one appeared.

She leaned forward and her helmet clinked against the door glass with the tiniest sound. She closed her eyes. "Come on, Beck," she said, "calm down. It's just a glitch. Liu's probably trying to figure it out. Panicking is only going to make your suit work harder. Think. They can't hear you and as far as you know, you can't hear them. The feed's not working. The door's not working. What would dad say? 'Everything broken can be fixed. And if it can't, break it worse so no idiot tries after you.' That's what he'd say." She dissolved into a panicked laugh and wished that she could wipe her nose. Something clicked softly just beyond her face. She opened her eyes and looked up. Alice was just beyond the door.

"Alice! Thank the stars," cried Rebecca. "The door's not working. The feed either. Let me in—" Alice slapped a lab pad against the glass. A message was typed out on it.

"I'm sorry, Rebecca. We had to get rid of Issk'ath. It was the only way."

She read it twice to be certain she wasn't missing something. She glanced up at the robot. Its mandible opened and shut. Rebecca thought it might be hissing. She wished she knew. The lab pad disappeared. Rebecca shook her head. "I don't understand," she said.

Alice tapped something into the pad. She held it up again. "It was using us to travel to the Keseburg. The others believe it meant to wipe us all out to prevent settlement. I don't know, or care, if that is what it wanted. You know what would happen to the planet if we settled there. What would happen to us. I can't let that happen."

"What?" asked Rebecca.

The pad disappeared and came back a moment later. "The others want me to tell you that if you can persuade Issk'ath to let go, I can let you in. But I can't risk it. I was going to trust you. All of you. But Liu convinced me. The Keseburg can never know about the planet. They have to believe if they go there, they die. This is the only way. You need to get rid of the robot. I'll take care of the others. I know you understand. I'm sorry, Beck. It's for your dad. And Angie. And all the others."

The pad sunk down one more time. "No Alice, this is wrong— this is insane," yelled Rebecca. She pounded on the door. "Don't do this, let me in! We'll figure out another way—"

Alice raised the pad again. "I'm sorry. If there's somewhere after this, I'll see you there. Wherever your 'data disperses to' as Issk'ath says. I'll be right behind you." She let the pad go and it floated beside her as she turned away. Rebecca panicked and let go of the door handle, smacking both arms against the door. "Alice!" she screamed, "Come back, Alice! Don't leave me out here. Alice!" She flailed as she drifted farther from the door. Issk'ath's pincer shot out and caught her wrist, dragging her back to the door. Its arm bent and caught her between the door and its thorax. Its wings slid out around them, and made a shimmering pyramid that prevented her from sliding out into space. The small antenna unfolded again from its chassis and wavered above her arm hinging down to the panel where her filament fed through the suit. Rebecca opened the port and Issk'ath sparked as it touched. Its metallic voice had never sounded sweeter.

"I cannot hear you Emery, and my knowledge of your facial movements is inexact. Dorothy was not adept at it. But your system is erratic. You are in distress. I understand why our situation is not optimal. Your colleague has deceived the others. And me. She means to harm them. If you cannot calm yourself, however, I fear you will suffer lasting damage. Liu said this suit could sustain you for several hours. You have tools at your disposal and myself. We will find a way to warn your friends. We will find a way back in. Dorothy said you made the space small when she was frightened. And you stayed close. I cannot make the space smaller than this. My body is limited. I hope it is enough."

Rebecca closed her eyes and focused on drawing deep, slow breaths. "Keep talking, Issk'ath. Please keep talking," she said though she knew it could not hear her.
43

Alice floated through the lock and opened the far door. Captain Al Jahi was still shouting at Liu and Martham. She slid past the bridge without a word. There was no reason to alert them. This had to be done, but it needn't cause them anxiety. She made her way into the biology lab. It was untouched, a small bulge in the far wall the only indication of the explosion in her own lab. Alice hovered over the specimen tanks. Spixworth's bugs skittered through most of them, but Spike had also been brought along. Its corpse was frozen on the dissection board, waiting for Martham. A sudden, painful memory of Spixworth swept her as she looked at it. She shook it off. Everything aboard would be dead in a matter of days anyhow, without Blick to manage feedings. The lids were easily removed. She didn't wait to watch the insects escape. They'd spread over the Wolfinger in time. She had a half-hope that they'd breed and the Keseburg would find their crew lying under an inch of alien bugs. Rebecca would have hated it. Alice closed her eyes. It's for the good of all, she told herself again, and pulled the dead rodent from the cryo tray. It took a pair of pliers and several patient minutes to remove a few spines. She placed them in the pocket of her suit and released the small corpse. It floated slowly across the lab and bumped into another tank, its remaining spikes rasping against the glass. Alice ignored it and moved on to Blick's station. She eyed the seed pods that Issk'ath had identified. What had it called them? Something with a hiss. Or a click. She couldn't remember. Just that it was supposed to be a deadly neurotoxin if burst. Blick had put large red warnings on all sides of the tank. She pulled a filtration mask from the wall. Alice unplugged the filters and unsealed the terrariums. A last resort. In case she couldn't do it painlessly. The pod broke off easily from the stem. Its skin was leathery and dimpled, like an underinflated ball. She slid it gently into the pocket at her knee and continued opening tanks. She wanted the samples to be dead by the time the Wolfinger was found so they wouldn't tempt the Keseburg to risk another attempt at the planet. Martham's tool set glittered in tidy lines above her sink. Alice unclipped several dissection probes and stuffed them beside the bony spines in her jacket pocket. They were roughly the correct shape and size to match Issk'ath's tarsus. Especially if the only thing the Keseburg had to compare it to was feed video of the robot. She wondered if Rebecca had persuaded it to let go yet. One thing at a time, she told herself.

Leroux was checking Dr. Cardiff's blood toxicity. Blick snored in the bunk above her head. "How is she?" Alice asked. She closed the door behind her and slid closer.

Leroux frowned. "I think she's improving, but without the feed— these hand tools are ancient. I'm not even certain they are calibrated correctly. I hope the robot is gone soon and we can—" she stopped, realizing what she'd said. "Flaming Core, Oxwell, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I just— I forgot Emery was out there too."

Alice sighed and rubbed her eyes with one hand. "I understand. We're all exhausted. I just— want to put all of this behind us. I want to get home safe. I know I'm in shock. We all are. Eventually, it'll hit me, who we've lost, how much this mission has cost."

"It seems cold to say, but when Peter Titov and Captain Al Jahi's kids and all the rest are running around down there, their deaths will be worth it."

"Yes. Our people's safety. That's what this is all for, isn't it?" Alice palmed one of the dissection probes in her pocket.

Leroux nodded and tapped a number into the lab pad from her tool. She floated over to her medical kit anchored in the corner of the room. "You have anyone waiting for you?" she asked, turning back to Alice, who seized her chance. Alice shoved her feet against the wall behind her and shot across the small space, slamming into Leroux. The medic was flung backward into the wall and Alice grabbed the heating duct beside Leroux's head, using her momentum to jam her elbow just below Leroux's chin. Leroux gasped and raked her hands over Alice's arm, leaving light scratches but doing little to free her. Alice pulled the dissection probe from her pocket with the other hand and reared back. She overshot, accidentally loosening her hold on Leroux. She hadn't been prepared for the lack of gravity, but Leroux was still in shock and Alice slammed the probe into the center of her forehead before the medic could move. She swore as it sank in half an inch and stopped cold. Leroux was trying to scream, but Alice's elbow was still thrust against her voicebox. Alice let go of the probe only to slam the heel of her hand against the silver end. She felt it grind and then pop farther in. She let go of Leroux, using both hands to twist the probe. She had to break an artery, Leroux didn't need to suffer. Leroux grappled with her, trying desperately to push her away, but Alice clung on.

"I'm sorry, Joan," she grunted, sawing the probe from side to side, "I don't have your training. Not an easy vessel to—" she broke off and yanked at the probe. Leroux finally managed a halting gasp of air and then shrieked. It didn't matter. The quarters had all been buffered for sound to help them sleep despite the engine noise. The others would never hear and Dr. Cardiff and Blick were out cold. She managed to work the probe free while Leroux scrabbled and struggled. A thick splash of blood followed the needle and pattered over Alice's shoulder.

"It's done Joan," she said calmly around Leroux's screams. "It's for your husband's sake, you know. He wouldn't have made it. Or Peter or Dia, or any of the rest. He's safer up here. The planet's safer with us up here, too. But Liu was right. I couldn't trust everyone to keep it a secret. Even if you'd agreed. Close your eyes now. It'll be done soon."

Leroux ignored her, swimming down toward her medical kit. She fumbled among the tools. Alice shoved her easily away and a string of blood bubbles slid from Leroux's forehead. "Sorry, Joan. I can't let you. I don't think you'd make it anyway. It'd only make this longer."

"Traitor," hissed Leroux. Her eyes drooped. She made another feeble flail at Alice and missed, her body spiraling back into the wall from the momentum. The bubbles of blood splashed over her face and into the wall in large scarlet sunbursts. Leroux's head clunked. She bounced back toward Alice. She didn't move again. Alice pushed her out of the way and into the corner. She pulled herself down to Dr. Cardiff's bunk. An easier one. There was no point in getting complicated. Her blood was already awash in formaldehyde from the methanol. Alice peeled a pillow from its velcro and pressed it firmly over Cardiff's face. The doctor didn't even wake.

Alice rose to the top bunk. Blick was stirring, even through the drugs. A blob of Leroux's cooling blood had splattered over his nose and he was clumsily wiping at it with one hand. His eyes were still closed and he'd made no move to unbuckle from the bunk, but Alice knew she'd have to move fast. The angle was awkward. She'd never get enough leverage to use the probe. Not in the same place Issk'ath had, anyway. Unless— she pushed higher. Blick was blinking now, the damp of the blood making him swipe at his face. Alice pushed back down from the ceiling and settled over Blick's chest, sliding her feet under the buckle straps that held him in.

"Hmm?" he muttered, fully waking. "What's going on?" He looked at the hand that he had wiped his face with and recoiled at the sight of blood. He squinted up at her. "Oxwell? What's happened? Who's—"

Alice had panicked, grabbing the spines from her pocket instead of the probe in her haste. She raised them over her head and arced down toward Blick's throat. There was a loud ripping sound as his sleeve jerked away from the velcro and he grabbed her hand. The drugs had been less effective than she'd believed. Perhaps Leroux had skimped because of the short supply. Blick yelled and twisted her wrist. The bony spines missed his neck and plunged into the meat of his shoulder. He roared and shoved at her. She groped in her pocket for the dissection probe and he clicked the harness loose, wriggling out from beneath her.

"What are you doing?" he cried, trying to wrench the spines from his shoulder.

Her hand closed around the probe. It tore her pocket as she yanked it free. Blick had pulled free of the bunk and caught sight of Leroux's slumped corpse as it hovered near the wall.

"Leroux!" he shouted, "Help, Oxwell's snapped. I need the— I need the—" He shook Leroux's shoulder and her head rolled slightly, popping out another string of blood bubbles. "Galactic Void, Joan, are you all—" he tilted her head gently with his hand and backed away with a cry as the puncture wound in her forehead glistened in the harsh electric light. Alice lunged from the bunk, but her aim was still off. The probe hit the back of his head with a thick crunch. They tumbled through the air. Blick reached back and wrenched the probe from his skull with a groan. He kicked Alice away as his shoulder slammed into the closed door. He caught sight of Dr. Cardiff and reached out to shake her foot. "Cardiff," he yelled, "Cardiff, wake up!"

Alice twisted around, searching for another weapon. She dove for the medical bag, ignoring Blick's frantic effort to wake Cardiff's corpse.

"Flaming Core, Phyllis, wake up and help me!" Blick yanked on her leg, but Dr. Cardiff didn't move. His head throbbed and the spikes in his shoulder were beginning to burn his skin. He gave up on Cardiff. She was too drugged or something. He needed help. Whatever had happened to Alice, she wasn't calming down. He tapped his feed. It buzzed at him. He hit it again. Nothing. He slapped the door console above him and it slid open. "Liu!" he shouted, "Liu, Martham—" he shoved himself out into the hall. A sudden tug on his ankle dragged him backward and he caught himself on the doorframe. "Help! Emery, Liu, I need help!"

Something light slithered over the back of his neck. Blick panicked and let go of the door. He twisted around and the thing wrapped around him. It was the strap from Leroux's medical bag. Alice twisted it to tighten, but Blick managed to get his fingers under the strap in time. She grunted and twisted harder. There were shouts in the hall. Alice jerked away, launching herself over Blick and out into the hallway. She retreated farther into the Wolfinger.

"She's mad," gasped Blick, fumbling with the strap. Liu helped him.

"Stars, Blick, what happened?" gasped Martham. "Let me— Leroux, hand me your tweezers we have to get these—"

Blick shook his head and Martham glanced over at Leroux's slumped form. "She's dead," he wheezed. "I think Oxwell killed her. She attacked me in my sleep. Check Cardiff."

Liu slid by them toward the bunk.

"Where's Captain Al Jahi? Emery? Are they still outside?"

Martham exchanged a troubled glance with Liu. "Captain Al Jahi is safe. She's on the bridge. Let's get these spikes out of you and find Oxwell before she hurts someone else."

"Dr. Cardiff's dead too," said Liu. "Did she— say anything, Lionel? Why did she do this?"

Blick shook his head. "Not a word. She just— stabbed."

"There's another emergency kit on the bridge. Let's get him there, before Oxwell comes back."

Martham nodded, gripping Blick around the waist. Liu followed them out into the hall, trying to guard their back.

"Where's Emery?" Blick asked again.

"You know where Emery is," said Martham.

"It's not her. Obviously, it isn't."

"It was the only way to get rid of the robot," muttered Martham.

Blick struggled for a second but a twinge of heat and pain pierced the back of his head and he groaned and subsided. "Not the robot either. You didn't kill her— tell me you didn't kill her."

"No." Martham pulled him a little faster, zipping past the lock. "But I'm not sure that it isn't the robot either. We can discuss Emery after we're safe and you aren't leaving ribbons of blood in your wake." She slid into the bridge and pushed him carefully toward one of the chairs. Liu slipped in behind them and shut the door. Al Jahi strained against the buckles they'd used to tie her down. Her hands were bound behind the back of her seat.

"Let her in, Martham!" she shouted.

Martham shook her head. "Look, we've got bigger problems than Emery at the moment. Dr. Cardiff and Leroux are dead. Oxwell has had some kind of psychotic break. And Blick's got a hole in his head and alien quills in his shoulder. One crisis at a time, Captain."

Liu pulled apart the door console. He jerked a wire free. "Should be secure now, even if the robot's helping her," he said.

"The robot? You shoved it outside! You broke the feed," shouted Al Jahi. "How do you think it's helping her?"

"It was alone with Oxwell, too. Same time as it cornered Emery. Could have brainwashed her, too." Martham buckled him into the chair and floated away to get the emergency kit.

"This is insane. The whole thing. It's just paranoia. Emery hasn't done anything that would suggest she was following Issk'ath's orders. She was repairing the ship. Why would she do that if you think Issk'ath wants us all dead?" Al Jahi twisted and wriggled against the straps holding her in place. "It's Oxwell. This whole thing is Oxwell. She's the one that argued against settlement. She's the one that argued against bringing Issk'ath along. She's been present at every death— except, perhaps, Spixworth's. The feed shows the methanol leak at her station. I'd wager it was even Oxwell that convinced you to get Issk'ath out." Liu glanced over at Martham and Al Jahi saw. Blick was having trouble following now, his world reduced to a sluggish pulsing ache in his head and the spreading itch around the spines in his shoulder. "Did you even mean to bring me inside first, or was that just a happy coincidence?" the captain yelled.

Martham shoved her foot into a nearby strap and sunk beside him without answering. She held up a dose of Rem. "This is going to hurt. You ok with another dose?" she asked.

"Got to get Emery back inside," he insisted. "Can't leave her like that. It's so cold and dark..."

Martham shook her head and pushed the dose into his filament port.

"Go get her, Liu. The robot too," said Al Jahi.

Martham swung around Blick's chair to check his head wound. "You want him to go out there and get picked off by Oxwell?"

"So you're just going to leave Emery out there to die? She didn't do anything."

"We don't know that," said Martham. "The robot could have affected them both."

"That's ridiculous. We've all been alone with it for at least a few minutes. Are we all going to suddenly snap? You have to go, Liu, you have to help her. It's not a request."

Liu hovered uncertainly near the broken door. Martham frowned over the small hole in Blick's head. Their basic medical training hadn't included stab wounds in the head. She began gently bandaging it, hoping it would be all right for the hours between them and the Keseburg. "Even if you're right, Captain," she said, "it shouldn't be Liu who goes out. He's the only one who can get us home. We can't risk a surprise from Oxwell or an accident outside the Wolfinger. To say nothing of what Issk'ath might do."

"Then let me go. If you're right, and I die, you don't have to deal with the Admiral when we get back for mutiny. And if I'm right, then Emery doesn't die needlessly."

Martham glanced over at Al Jahi. She closed a pair of pliers around one of the spines in Blick's shoulder. The skin around them was puffy and hot. She didn't want to think about what might be in the wound. "No, I'll go." She pushed a long breath out and adjusted her grip, bracing herself on the back of Blick's chair. She hoped the Rem was in full effect. She jerked her hand back and the spine slid free. "It was me, after all, that helped Oxwell convince the rest. And me, as well, that told Liu not to warn her." She placed the spine into an empty specimen tube and capped it before turning back to clamp the next one.

Al Jahi twisted again, trying to get free. "Do you really think I'd let you go out after her? You're far more likely to shove her out into open space or— or, stars, I don't know, tear her suit or something, than you are to help her. You've had it out for Emery since the first week of training. Gang, let me loose. This is ridiculous. You know this is wrong."

Liu gave in and began unbuckling her. Martham grunted and pulled the second spine. "You keep saying that. All of you. You think I have this personal vendetta against Emery. My only goal, this entire mission, has been the same as yours. To save the Keseburg. To get our families settled on a safe planet before we fall apart." She dropped the second spine into a specimen tube and wiped her sleeve through the sweat on her face. "Emery is an anthropologist. I'm sure she's a very competent one. I'm sure she'll be very useful in the coming months and years to the Keseburg. She just didn't fit an exploratory mission. Without her— we might not even be in this mess. There'd be no Issk'ath, because we wouldn't have found it. Or if we did, we wouldn't have brought it back. Stratton would still be alive. Maybe all the others too. I'm not sure what made Oxwell crack. I don't hate Emery. I don't even dislike her. And I certainly don't want to watch her die. Aside from that— Oxwell and she were close. If anyone can figure out why our microbiologist has suddenly become homicidal and how to stop her, it's Emery." She sighed and got ready to pull the last spine. "Liu and you both know the Wolfinger. It gives you a natural advantage over Oxwell. On the planet, I was valuable. Up here—" She shook her head once and yanked on the pliers. "Just a warm body." The wound seeped a thick, foul pus. Martham hoped it was just an allergic reaction and not some alien infection. She cleaned it as well as she could. "It makes the most sense for me to go. Give me a sidearm and a suit. And be ready to open the door."
44

"Okay." Rebecca checked her toolkit once more. She looked up at Issk'ath. She wished she could warn it, tell it what she meant to do. She tapped its chassis and its eyes followed the slow movement of her hand. She waved it over to the side.

"Are you certain, Emery? Your system is still rapid."

She nodded and Issk'ath retracted its antenna. It moved down the Wolfinger's hull. She followed it and clipped her tether back into the guide rail. She maneuvered around Issk'ath and waved for it to follow. It seemed to process for a moment and then glided carefully along the rail after her. The hull was thick and she worried for a moment that the small welder would not be enough. "Never going to know until you try," she told herself. They circled to the spot where Rebecca and Al Jahi had been working, her fingers bumping over the welded sheets she'd finished shortly before. The remaining two holes were small, less than a hand's width. Rebecca intended to make them bigger. It wouldn't solve everything. They'd get inside, but the lab was sealed and all the air gone, until and unless she could patch the remaining hole and the door she was about to create and get the environmental system working again. But they'd be inside, at least. Out of the cold and the radiation that had to be bombarding Issk'ath. And she might find a way to warn the others. They could hardly ignore her if she were in the ship. If anyone remained.

"Enough stalling." She set the welder to its maximum setting and tapped the feed to dim her vision. "Galactic Void," she swore, realizing that it was still not functioning. She fumbled with her helmet pulling the old, scratched solar guard down. It wasn't great, but it would protect her vision at least a little. Rebecca took a shaky breath and flipped the torch on. The spark flared as the welder met the thick metal of the Wolfinger's hull. She imagined the cracking fizz and the sharp smell of burning metal that had constantly lingered in her father's clothes. It slowly ate through the outer shell, but she was careful to go no further. She expected several layers of insulating material, but she didn't want to pierce any of the essential lines that ran throughout the ship. She made thin, careful lines in a large rectangle, trying to guess at Issk'ath's size once it compressed itself. They'd have to reseal it once inside, and she had little to work with if she made a mistake. The first corner turned and she stopped to move down the hull. Her father would have tutted at the messy line, but Rebecca was just grateful the welder had managed it. "Halfway there," she told herself, but pushed away thoughts of what would happen after she got back inside. Getting through was problem enough for now.

But worry crept back as she watched the metal dissolve beneath the torch. She'd known Alice her entire life. They'd been in the same classes. Lived in the same habitation ring. Even dated the same boy once. Rebecca knew Alice's parents, knew her friends and her personality. She knew her friend's entire life arc almost as if it were her own. How had this happened? She'd been hesitant, was still hesitant, about what would happen if they colonized a planet. And she'd been vocal about it. But killing her colleagues, sacrificing her friends to keep the planet secret— it was too far. Had her own doubts pushed Alice into this insanity? Was this Rebecca's fault?

The square was complete. Rebecca turned the welder off and clipped it carefully to her suit. She stared at the cut panel, only half concentrating on it. If it was her fault, if Rebecca had convinced Alice that this was the only way to protect humanity, then maybe she could find a way to stop her. She hoped Alice hadn't gone farther than locking her out of the ship. Maybe there was still time. She gripped the edge of the guide rail and pulled herself into as tight a ball as the suit would allow. She aimed her feet at the cut panel and kicked it. The panel shuddered and shifted slightly. It took two more kicks before it slid enough to get her fingers into the gap. She floated closer, intending to push it, but Issk'ath tapped her helmet and once again plugged into her suit's port.

"You intend to move it so we may enter?" it asked.

Rebecca nodded.

"The metal is too sharp. It will damage your suit. I will move it." It unplugged and Rebecca moved slowly aside. She unhooked her tether from the guide rail and tied it tightly around Issk'ath's torso. She held on to a metal rung and watched as the robot pulled itself to the broken panel. It slid a pincer in and rocked the panel slightly until the gap widened enough for it to wedge two legs into the space. It braced itself against the edge of the hole and the pincer pistoned out, shooting the panel farther in, sliding it along the interior of the Wolfinger's shell. Issk'ath turned and looked at her. She released the guard rail and Issk'ath pulled her to it by the tether. The insulation and thinner metal of the interior wall were all that separated them from the remains of the biolab. Inching her fingers in the small gap between the hull and the insulation, she felt for the seam of the insulation panel. It would be foolish to tear right through the middle, and she wasn't even certain that she could. The insulation was tougher even than the hull. But her dad had installed similar panels— thinner ones, newer ones, but similar, on the Keseburg. It was difficult to feel through the gloves. Her fingers caught on a corner of the insulation seam after a few moments of fumbling. She gripped it and tugged. The thick material popped off of the frame, one snap coming free after another. She rolled it carefully back toward them, and pushed the tail out of the hole. A thickly wrapped pipe ran through the upper part of her hole. She ducked underneath to reach the thin, shining inner layer of inner insulation. She pushed gently on the fragile material for a moment and then shook her head. The others didn't have time for her to worry about salvaging it. She punched through and raked it aside. The hole was getting progressively smaller. She looked nervously back at Issk'ath. It just stared at her, waiting. A whole world blinking in its chest. A whole world being bombarded by frigid temperatures and radiation. She'd get it inside. Somehow. She pulled out the welder again, and this time, the cut was rapid and smooth. She pushed the piece of wall in and it tumbled away into the dark, ashy interior of the lab. Rebecca pulled herself in after and turned to help Issk'ath. She tugged on the tether as its face appeared in the hole. A pincer extended, then another, gripping the edge. Its head emerged, the large lamps of its eyes dimly illuminating the sooty room. And then the top of its thorax was through. It halted abruptly. Stuck, as Rebecca had feared. It tried to twist its head and she could see the pistons in its upper legs jittering as they tried to push it through. She pawed her way along the dark walls of the lab until she found a stability rung and wedged an arm through. She pulled on the tether, trying to help Issk'ath. The metal of its wings sparked as they scraped the edge of the hole, but it didn't make more than an inch of progress. It jerked its upper body and Rebecca wondered if it were panicking. Or even capable of panic. She glided back to it and put a gloved hand on its chassis. It stopped and looked at her. She held up the welder and pointed at the wall beneath it. It started yanking again. It must have misunderstood. She touched it again, wishing she could talk to it.

"It's okay," she shouted, not sure if it would matter. "Trust me." It didn't seem to understand and she gave up. She'd have to do it anyway. It couldn't stay stuck in the wall. She twined a leg around the nearby lab table to stabilize herself and switched the welder on. She started several inches below Issk'ath and it strained to see what she was doing. It was not flexible enough, but must have decided she did not mean to harm it, because it finally became still and she was able to carefully finish the cut a few millimeters from Issk'ath's casing. She sawed through the remainder of the metal with her suit's knife and pried the metal free. Issk'ath shot through and banged against the lab door. She swam around it, checking for damage. She shoved the solar shield of her helmet up again so she could see in the dark room. The only light came from Issk'ath and her own helmet. A series of shallow scrapes along its wing were all she could find. She traced the lights in its chassis, trying to remember the patterns that had been there before. Were there any missing? Issk'ath reached for her arm and plugged in again.

"I am unharmed, Emery. Are you as well?"

She nodded.

"Will we be able to speak soon?"

She shrugged and pointed at the hole in the wall, holding up the welder.

"I see. Am I able to assist?"

Rebecca thought for a moment and then pointed to one of the dead consoles.

"I will attempt to turn them back on, but I do not detect any electrical power in this area." It scanned the room. "The radiation levels are much diminished in here. That is an improvement. I did not expect such— stimulation on our journey back to your home. I have collected a wealth of data. The colony is pleased. Is it always this way on your journeys?"

Rebecca shook her head emphatically.

"I am not disappointed. I would gladly gather information at a slower pace if it meant the colony faced less risk."

She couldn't blame it for that. She let it unhook from her and slid back into the hole to line up the exterior panel and begin welding.
45

Martham slipped carefully out the bridge door. Al Jahi was just ahead. She tried to be calm as Liu let it glide closed behind them. It wasn't far to the equipment lock, just a few feet. She could practically touch the door frame. But cycling the lock would mean getting into a suit. And that would mean releasing her sweaty grip on the gun. Martham didn't like being vulnerable. It never worked out well for her. Think it through, she told herself, plan ahead. A simple series of steps. She could only assume that Oxwell was unhinged, illogical. Prone to making a mistake. Or many. If she did mean to attack them, the best thing to do was stay calm and follow the plan. She peered down the hallway. It seemed still. "Let's go," whispered Al Jahi. They didn't waste time, shoving off the wall to shoot down the corridor. Martham caught herself on the equipment lock door and swung herself to face it as Al Jahi opened the door.

Still no sign of Oxwell. The lock was empty, a lone communication pad tumbling slowly across the space. Martham caught it and hung it back in its place. Al Jahi was still staring nervously down the hall. Martham crossed to the outer door and stared out the window, looking for Emery. All she saw was unbroken dark. She tried to twist enough to see the side of the ship, but the window was too small.

"I can't see her," she said.

"Maybe she moved to another section of the ship."

"Maybe she let go," said Martham.

"We need to turn the feed back on. I need the cameras."

"If we have the cameras, then Oxwell has them too."

"She already knows where we are—" Al Jahi stopped as a loud clang echoed through the corridor. Martham turned from the window and Al Jahi held one finger up to her lips. They moved down the corridor together. The noise did not repeat and they were forced to check each room.

"Should we split?" asked Martham as they hung undecided between their own quarters and the quarters where Cardiff and Leroux's bodies floated silently.

"No," said Al Jahi. "I'm not going to make it easy for her to pick us off."

"We could ignore her. We've only got another thirty hours before we reach the Keseburg. We could get Emery and hole up in the bridge. No sense in taking unnecessary chances."

"We have to find out why she's doing this. Does she mean for us all to die? Or has she already killed her targets?"

"Does it matter?" spat Martham. "She's already killed plenty of good people. You want to sit down and have a friendly chat about who should go next?"

"I want to find out if any of us are meant to survive. Because if we aren't, she could just repeat what happened in the infirmary. The bridge isn't contained like the labs. An explosion nearby would cause extensive damage to the ship, even if the blast didn't kill us immediately. We have to find her. Waiting it out isn't an option."

"Okay," breathed Martham. "Let's find her then. And after, we turn on the feed and grab Emery."

"This one first," said Al Jahi, pointing to the quarters where their dead crew members waited.

Martham followed her in.

Four left, thought Alice, Three if I got lucky with Blick. I hope they put him out. The idea of Blick suffering was distressing. The botanist had always been kind. More. He'd been good. Blick had been in charge of the Agriculture deck for over thirty years. He and his wife had been able to revive Earth species that hadn't been grown in a thousand years. If anyone could have understood the danger the Keseburg posed to the new planet, it would have been him. Perhaps I should have tried harder to persuade him, she thought, but then dismissed it. It was kinder, not forcing him to make that decision. Just as it had been kinder not to involve Emery. This was Alice's burden. She'd be strong for them all. If there was something after, they would thank her. When all was resolved, they'd see her actions were worth saving a whole world. It was a small cost, thirteen people in exchange for all the lives it would save. Not only on the planet, but on their own ship as well. Alice continued sharpening a stripped sapling from Blick's specimens. It was fitting, she told herself, spinning the small pointed stick, the planet's life rising up to defend itself from invasion. She was only helping it succeed. A loud clang outside the lab made her head jerk up and stare at the door. Time to whittle it down to three. Or two. She peeled herself from the velcro of her seat and gathered up her tools. The biology lab was a maze of brightly lit tanks and work stations and she wove through them, listening. But the space outside the lab door was silent. She let the door slide open and held herself against the corner of the doorframe. The flash of a suit in the doorway of one of the sleeping quarters and then the corridor was empty.

Alice pulled herself quietly down the hallway, ducking into the kitchen. She could hear them talking, the tones of their voices rapid and hushed. The words were unclear, but it didn't matter. Whatever plans they were making would never be completed. The voices grew louder as they reentered the hall. Martham and Al Jahi, she thought, they're looking for me. That would mean they were armed. Alice was no fighter. None of them were, but weapons made them dangerous.

"This one first," Al Jahi said.

There was a beat of silence and then: "No, we can't both go. What if she slips by us? One of us has to stay out here and watch. Make sure she doesn't get past us."

"This is a stupid plan," hissed Martham. "The whole point of us leaving the bridge together was to avoid this."

"Do you have a better idea?"

Martham was silent.

"It's only a small room anyway. I'll be in and out. There are only a few places in there to hide. Thirty seconds."

There was another long silence. Alice tried to calm her breathing so that she could hear past the rush of it.

"We can switch, if you want. I don't mind keeping watch out here, if you want to check the quarters."

"I've at least seen what's in there already," said Martham. "Maybe it's better I do this one."

Alice heard the door click open. She waited. Better to let them move through this one. Better to let them calm a little, assume she was in the labs.

"Nothing," muttered Martham and the door clicked closed.

"You have— blood."

"Sorry. I wanted to make them comfortable. I know it's not important right now. I just— I thought I could spare a minute."

"It is important," said Al Jahi. "Thank you for doing it, Beatrice."

Alice gripped one of the sharpened sticks tightly. Another few moments. Had to be fast. Had to be silent. Wouldn't be silent. She knew it wouldn't. She'd need a distraction. She glanced around. The kitchen was no good. It was too close. One of the labs? Nothing fast enough came to mind. The infirmary though— Al Jahi had said there were two holes just before Liu killed the feed. Cycling it should make the environmental alarms go off again. And if she dragged Al Jahi into the geology lab—

"No sign of her," said Martham.

"We'll find her," said Al Jahi. "Try the next."

"This is really reckless, Captain. We're wandering around blind waiting to be attacked. Emery is losing hope every minute if she hasn't already let go— let's go back. Turn on the feed. We can use the cameras. Find Emery. If Oxwell tries something, we'll see it and be able to stop her before she even gets close."

"We're halfway through. She could already be building some kind of explosive, Martham. The labs and equipment lock are the only areas that are fully sealed in emergencies. The rest of the ship is at risk. With the feed off, she doesn't know where we are or that we're coming. She thinks we're hunkered down, safe. This is our best chance of finding her without losing more people."

There was a long silence. Alice debated striking then, taking her chances. She'd be able to get one before they got her. Maybe. But getting one wasn't enough. It had to be all of them. All of the crew and the logs rewritten. Otherwise, it was all pointless.

"Okay," sighed Martham.

Alice let out a shaky breath and tensed as another door clicked open. She counted to three and launched herself up toward the ceiling and out into the corridor. It took a second for Al Jahi to see her soaring just over her head, and it took her a few more to shake off the shock and respond. Alice shoved herself down as Al Jahi spun to face her and brought the gun level. Alice didn't bother knocking it aside, the thin stick piercing Al Jahi's throat even before she finished the movement. Al Jahi let go of the gun and struggled even as Alice clamped a hand around the back of her neck and pushed the wood farther in. It bumped and snapped on the cartilage and Alice's arm shook with the effort as the stick finally tore through. Al Jahi managed a heavy punch to the side of Alice's face and she was flung a little way away. Al Jahi clutched at the the stick even as blood welled around it, fizzing and bubbling as the air she was gasping leaked around the wood. She gurgled, trying to call for help, and Alice recovered, springing toward her and grabbing her arm to drag her toward the labs. Martham had to have heard. She slammed against the infirmary doors, Al Jahi bouncing just below her, yanking on the wood. Alice ignored her and tapped the door panel. It buzzed a denial. She glanced over her shoulder. No sign of Martham yet, but a field of advancing blood drops that spread over the hallway. She tried to remember her emergency cycling procedure. Tapped in a code. The door buzzed again. No, that was the chemical spill code. Al Jahi was wriggling away and choking. Alice rubbed her eyes and then swore as she smeared them with blood. It stuck in scarlet droplets to her lashes. She tried another code. The alarm began to wail and the cycling process started. She dove after Al Jahi who struggled, wheezing, sucking at the air. They were in the geology lab just as Martham emerged from the sleeping quarters.

Al Jahi was drooping, still trying to wriggle out of Alice's grasp, but gradually weakening. "I want you to know," said Alice, just below the blare of the alarm, "It's for Dia and Noura. They'll live the rest of their lives in peace, in their home. Their natural space. Safe. I promise."

Al Jahi jerked one last time and wrenched the broken stick from her neck. "Fuck you," she burbled and twisted. She jabbed the stick before Alice could do more than clench her eyes shut. The stick sank through her eyelid and into her eye. A thousand purple spikes and then dark and agony. Alice screamed and let go of Al Jahi to clutch at her face. Warm wetness dribbled through the lid and collected on her cheek but she barely noticed. The pressure in her eye was sharp and heavy, a hammer that knocked against the socket and shattered any other thought she had. Al Jahi didn't matter. Martham hearing Alice's pained shrieks didn't matter. The planet and the Keseburg were nothing. Her whole existence narrowed to the scraping pain in her skull.

Martham had heard the scream clearly, even over the wail of the infirmary alarm. She clicked her feed, intending to ask Liu to shut off the alarm so that she could hear. Then she remembered it was off and cursed under her breath. She pulled herself toward Hackford's old lab. It had sounded like the scream had come from there. She opened the geology lab door.

"Captain?" she hissed. "Chione, where are you?"

But if there was an answer it was buried under the wail of the alarm. The large room was awash in amber light for a second as the alarm lights swung by. Then dark again. The light came back around and Martham caught a flash of two figures near the back before they melted back into the shadows. She fumbled with the door panel, staring at the spot where the figures had been. Two more swings of the light. Two more glimpses. One figure limp and drifting, a meteoroid left behind. The other, writhing and erratic and screaming. And then she managed to turn the lab lights on. She almost wished she hadn't.

A globe of blood spread from Al Jahi's throat. It had spread, clinging to the bottom of her face and the top of her suit, as if it meant to slowly envelop her. Beside her, Oxwell's hands covered her face, her fingers splitting around the dull spike that erupted from her right eye. She too, was coated in blood. How much was her own, Martham wasn't certain.

Martham launched herself over the lab tables and tackled Oxwell. "Captain," she cried. "I've got her." She wrestled with Oxwell, whose only real struggle was to keep hold of her eye. It was not surprising when Al Jahi didn't respond, but Martham hesitated for a moment, doubting whether she ought to keep her grip on Oxwell or aid Al Jahi.

"Move," she snapped, shoving her weapon into Oxwell's neck. Alice was still groaning, but she put her hands out, reaching for a landmark to guide her. They slid between the lab tables. "Stop," said Martham as they reached Al Jahi. She released Oxwell's neck with one hand, but kept the weapon against her skin with the other. Martham reached through the thick bubble of blood to press against the underside of Al Jahi's jaw. The blood was still warm and she shuddered. But no pulse met her fingertips. She ground her teeth together. "Why?" she growled, shoving Oxwell forward. It left part of a scarlet hand print on the back of Oxwell's suit. Alice banged into the side of a specimen case.

"Please," she said, cupping her eye, "I can't see."

Martham slammed her hand against Oxwell's back again. "You think I care? After what you've done? You can hit every obstacle in here. Hope it jams that stick farther in. Al Jahi do that?"

Oxwell was silent, one hand out in front, groping the air as they drifted toward the door. Martham took it as confirmation.

"Good for her. I wish she'd done it sooner." She gripped Oxwell's shoulder, opting to steer her in the interest of getting her secured more quickly. "And you didn't answer me. Why did you do it? Why all these people? They were good people, trying to do a good thing. They never did you any harm. Not one of them."

"We weren't doing a good thing, Martham. Not for any of us. Not for the life on that planet and ah—" Oxwell broke off as her shoulder hit the door frame and the stick in her eye jiggled when she could not fight the impulse to try and look around. "Get this thing out of my face and we can talk."

"I think maybe you should die with it in there," said Martham. "But that's for the Admiral to decide. I'm not going to bother pulling it out. Maybe Blick will, if his shoulder isn't too sore from the spikes you left in him."

The wail of the alarm cut off suddenly. Martham felt some of the tension slither away. Took Liu long enough, she thought. "Back to the bridge. The others can take care of you. I have an anthropologist to retrieve."

46

Rebecca was halfway through the weld when she heard the alarm go off. She wasn't certain what it meant, but it couldn't be anything good. The lights had not returned, so she assumed Issk'ath had not had luck restoring the power. She looked over her shoulder. Issk'ath's head was swiveling, seeking out the source of the sound. It hadn't caused the alarm then. She returned to the weld. She was down to her last sheet of patch metal. The gash was long. She hoped it would cover it. Anything less would leave a hole and the door wouldn't cycle open if the room couldn't reach the right pressure. If they could even get the door panel to power up and work. If not— she checked her suit. Another five hours perhaps. Too little. The Keseburg was almost twenty-five hours away. Unless the feed came back on, no one would even know she was here until it was far too late.

One crisis at a time, she reminded herself. She smoothed the rippling sheet until it lay straight and shining over the crack. Just enough, if she didn't make a mistake. All right, Dad, know you can't hear me, but I could sure use a little of your good luck right now. The sheet hardened beneath the welder, sealing out the emptiness. Flaming core, wish I could get out of this suit. Her damp hair was sticking to her forehead and the fabric over her chest and legs was cloying. Her hand cramped around the welder. She bit her tongue and refocused on the weld. The last of the metal sank against the hull plate and stuck. Was it enough? Were there significant leaks? She didn't know. You don't have any way to fix it, she told herself. She backed out a little, pulling the outer insulation in place and pressing it back onto the frame. The inner insulation was shredded and she had no way to repair the interior wall. She shrugged and turned to Issk'ath.

It was ignoring the alarm and had pulled the face of the console off. It seemed to be analyzing the wires, but even Rebecca could see they were melted and blackened from the fire. The dread she had felt as she pounded on the exterior door of the Wolfinger crept back. Snaked over her in cold, aching tendrils. She was going to die. In this room. Without being able to speak to anyone, not even an alien machine.

Issk'ath looked over at her, its gold eyes expressionless, just two points of light, soft moons in the dark. Its extension plugged into her suit. "I'm sorry, Emery. Your equipment will not function."

She nodded but tears began forming. She decided she hated crying without gravity. She'd done it enough in the past several hours to know.

"Your system is rapid again. Your plan depended on the equipment in this room."

She shrugged.

"It would have been better if I had other capabilities. If I were more than a Guardian."

Rebecca shook her head with a weak smile and patted its chassis. The alarm cut off. They both looked around, but nothing could be seen, not in the dark. But Issk'ath was still staring off into a corner. "Are you able to hear that, Emery?"

Rebecca strained to listen, but all she could hear was the sound of her own breath.

"It is a long hiss." It retracted its antenna and moved away. She drifted after it. Issk'ath looked up as they passed beneath a vent. She couldn't feel anything through the suit, but she could hear the sound now, a distant, erratic hiss above them. It cut out as they passed the vent. Movement caught her eye and she shone her lamp on a cloud of ash that hung beside them. It swirled and bounced, the dark flakes breaking apart and sweeping away.

"It's air!" She shouted. "Someone cycled the door. It's air!"

Issk'ath turned. It was clear it could hear something, but she wasn't certain her voice carried far enough for it to understand. It was a relief, anyhow. In a few minutes, she'd be able to speak with it. Even if the door didn't open, she'd have that comfort at least. And more. She'd be able to breathe. It wasn't good air, choked with soot and ash, but it would help her survive if she ran out. They were going to make it to the Keseburg. Her plan and her welding had been enough.

If Alice didn't kill the others first. Had she followed through with her plan? Had someone cycled the door in a desperate attempt to escape? Were they all dead and the Wolfinger drifting blindly through the endless miles of space? In a few moments, the door was going to open. And Rebecca began to wonder if she truly wanted it to. Maybe it would have been better to die in the quiet, here with Issk'ath. She stared at the gold insect-machine. What had she dragged it into? What had it risked because it trusted them?

47

Martham rapped on the bridge door. "It's me, Liu. I've got Oxwell."

After a moment, the door slid open and Martham yanked Alice in behind her. Liu winced at the gore on her face and lingered by the door as Martham tied her down to a chair.

"Where's Chione?" he asked at last.

"Al Jahi is dead." Martham's tone was flat, but she passed a hand over her eyes to wipe away sudden tears that even she hadn't expected. "We were separated. Oxwell attacked her." She thought she should feel like kicking the woman or jamming the stick farther into her eye, but Martham only felt a dull, sapping sadness. None of these people had been what she would call "friends", but they had been decent. And competent. Which was high praise in Martham's world. An uncommon trait in her experience. More. They had believed in what they were doing. Even Emery. Her doubts had been rational ones, even if her conclusions had not. They had all been on the same team. Until Oxwell snapped. And Martham and the others had followed right along where she led.

"Turn on the feed, Liu. I've got to see if we can find Emery. I couldn't see her from the lock, but maybe there's a chance."

"Shouldn't have left her," slurred Blick. Sweat clung in dozens of sparkling beads over his face and chest. The bandages she'd put over his wounds were damp and a sickening pale yellow.

Martham moved toward him. "Flaming Core. You look awful."

"I'll survive. Beck won't though, if you don't find her soon. She's been out there over half her suit time now. If she hasn't given up yet, she's thinking about it."

"It's on," said Liu, emerging from beneath his console. He clicked his feed on. "Emery, are you there?"

"Yes, Liu, is that you? I can't tell you how good it is to hear your voice." Emery's voice broke slightly and Liu exchanged a pained look with Blick.

"Stars, Beck, I'm glad you're there. We made a terrible mistake. Hold on, we're coming out to get you—"

"No! No, wait," said Emery, "Something is wrong with Alice. You're all in danger. You need to—"

"We know. We have her now."

"She didn't hurt anyone, did she? I'm not too late am I?"

Liu closed his eyes and Martham turned away. "It was for the greater good," shouted Alice. She subsided, hissing with pain.

"Just let us come get you, Beck. Is the— is Issk'ath still with you?"

"Issk'ath is here. It's staying with me, Liu. It isn't the threat you think—"

"I know. We were wrong. Blick tried to tell us, but we thought— I just wanted to protect us."

"I understand," said Issk'ath. "I am strange. Unknown. With motivations that might have been opposed to yours. I am not an acceptable risk. Not a friend."

Liu was silent a moment. Emery saved him from awkwardness. "You don't have to rescue us," she said. "We're in the infirmary. I'm just waiting for the door to cycle."

"How?"

"It's a long story. It's such a relief to hear your voice, Liu."

"I'm going to come down there, just in case something goes wrong with the door. We'll get you out."

"Okay. I'm just— don't turn off the feed again, all right? I just want to hear voices. I need to know someone's out there."

"I'll talk to you the whole time. I promise," said Liu. "Just let me find the toolkit and I'll be down."

"I'll play you out," said Blick, his fingers slowly flicking through the feed. A moment later Airlock Lovers crooned over the feed. Emery laughed. "It's good to hear you laughing, Beck. You had me worried a few hours there," he said, closing his eyes.

"Shouldn't be you," said Martham as Liu opened the door. "You need to stay and fly."

"The Wolfinger is on course. We won't be in range for several hours. I don't need to be here until then."

"It's safer here. Let me go."

"Safer? What have I got to worry about? Oxwell's here. You have her tied up pretty tight. And with that wound— I don't think we'll need to worry about her."

"What about the robot?" asked Martham. "It could still be behind all this. Something made Oxwell snap—"

"It wasn't the robot. Look, back in the equipment lock I was wrong. It has never shown any animosity toward us."

"It's a machine. It never showed anything toward us."

"That's not true. It seems to care a great deal about Emery. And us. It put out a potentially disastrous fire. It could have let us die. Or pushed Emery out into space these past few hours." Liu paused for a second. "Besides, do you know anything about bypassing environmental controls?"

"No," admitted Martham.

"Then I'm the only one who can get that door open if it's stuck. So it has to be me. Nothing's going to happen. Issk'ath had several chances to kill me, in particular, in the past several days, but I'm still here. Look after Blick. And maybe— do something about Oxwell's eye. I know neither of us wants to, but she is a human being, Martham. Nothing should suffer like that."

48

Liu had gone and Blick's music had moved on to an old Cosmix dance hit. She could hear Emery humming softly through the feed. Alice twisted in her seat, trying to break free and groaning in pain. "You should take it out, Beatrice," Blick muttered. "Liu's right. I'll try and do it myself, if you won't."

"She slaughtered most of our colleagues. You didn't see Chione. It wasn't a painless death. She doesn't deserve an ounce of mercy."

"She's mad," he whispered, as if it mattered. "She doesn't know what she's doing."

Martham shook her head. "She does. She knows. She thinks she's protecting the planet from the terrible humans. Or the humans from the terrible planet. I'm not sure. That part wasn't really clear. But she knows she's killing us."

"Look, if you won't do it for her, at least have pity on me. I can't stand listening to her in pain. It's not right."

"Okay," she said. "For your sake, then." She looked around for the surviving medkit.

"Thank you," sighed Blick. Martham watched as he reached a hand up to his wound to probe it.

"I should change your bandages."

"No, take care of Oxwell first. I can change them."

"You aren't looking well," said Martham.

"Yeah well, been kicking around the galaxy for sixty years now. I guess I'll make it through another day or two. Probably just an allergic reaction to that rodent's quills. If it were going to, it would have killed me by now."

"Unless it's an infection."

Blick closed his eyes and nodded. "Well, we still have Oxwell. Maybe she'll find an effective antibiotic."

"There's no antibiotic," groaned Alice. "The planet doesn't want us. It's fighting us off."

"The planet didn't murder Al Jahi or Leroux or the others," snapped Martham even as she disinfected her hands, "You did that all on your own. Slaughtered good people for no reason."

Emery's voice was anguished over the feed. "She did it then? I was too late. Why, Alice? Why do you think this is the only way?"

"It's my job to find a cure for organisms so bent on breeding and consuming that they destroy their host. Other lifeforms find their limits. They stay at sustainable levels. Not us. We kill our host planet, wring it dry and then move on. We're that organism. I'm the cure. Ask your friend. It knows. It did the same thing for its people."

"I did not, Oxwell. My people are not destroyed. Their data is not dispersed. They continue within me."

"Yes, well we don't have that luxury. If you hadn't existed when your people swarmed, what would have happened?"

Martham shook her head and selected some tools from the med kit. "They would have overcome or they would have died," she said. "Look up from your microscope once in a while. This is one thing Emery and I can agree on. We overcame. We adapted. Did you ever stop to ask yourself why other animals stop breeding once they reach carrying capacity?"

"Because they have no alternative," said Blick, "Once they go over that level, they starve or communicate diseases and die off until they reach sustainable levels again."

"We didn't," snarled Alice, "we just kept going."

"Because we could," said Martham. "A cow can't grow its fodder. It can't increase yield by purposely breeding hardier grain. It can't irrigate its land. It can't cut forest to make more farms or develop pesticides to protect its crop. It doesn't create vaccines and antibiotics to cure cow plagues."

"It also doesn't drown in its own filth or slaughter other cows to protect its fields or—"

"You're missing the point. As usual. We beat our limitations. We increased our carrying capacity. It isn't a failure. We've just adapted supremely well to our niche. We learned how to grow resources in the most inhospitable environments. We learned how to survive not just one or two deadly diseases, but thousands. We made technology that allowed us to exist where our biological bodies would fail. Space being one of those places. And we spread out. We overcame again. You think that we'll repeat the mistakes of Earth. That we'll overrun this planet and move on again. I don't know the future. Maybe we will. Several centuries from now. But we've lived in a habitat the size of a minuscule fraction of our home planet for sixteen hundred years. We didn't destroy it. We aren't packed in without room to move. We aren't starving. We've solved our waste problem. We know better. And if we forget— the system is self-balancing. There is no morality in nature. We are not evil for settling the planet. We are not good for drifting through space for another twelve centuries. There is only live or die. If we fail to overcome our consumption problems, we will die. Or leave again. It's that simple." She hung her tools beside Alice and put the bandages into her chest pocket.

"And the other life on the planet that we destroy in the meantime— it's what? Worth less than ours?" spat Alice.

"You're mixing morality into it again. It's not a question of worthiness, it's a question of adaptability. They either adapt to our presence or they die. As we must adapt to theirs or we die. You and Emery have been pointing out that everything on the planet could possibly kill us. And will. Refugees, remember? Not conquerors."

"It's wrong, even if you deny it—"

"It's not worth arguing," interrupted Blick. "She's mad, Beatrice. And in pain. Take out that thing and put her out. I can't take twenty-odd more hours of this."

Martham nodded. "Okay. Going to shut off my feed then. You too, Blick. We can hear you Emery, but this is not going to be pleasant."

"I understand. I'm better now. I can hear Issk'ath, and Liu is just outside the door."

Martham clicked it off. She unplugged Alice's filament from the port at her neck. "Are you ready?" she asked.

"Yes," sighed Alice.

Martham picked up an extractor and braced herself on the back of Alice's chair.

"Be gentle," warned Blick.

"I don't want to be gentle," growled Martham. "She's doled out enough cruelty to warrant this. I'm only doing this for your sake."

"She's a person, Beatrice. Morality might not exist in nature, but it does between us. A little kindness won't hurt anyone."

Martham clenched her teeth together and carefully fitted the extractor around the stick in Alice's eye. Alice shrieked at the tiny movement the stick made despite Martham's honest effort to keep it still. "Please," she moaned, "please let me do it myself."

"There's no way I'm freeing your hands. You'll just try to kill the rest of us," said Martham.

"You have a weapon," whined Alice. "I'm unarmed and wounded."

"Al Jahi had a weapon too, but you managed to dupe her somehow."

"Even if I somehow managed to get free, I wouldn't bother trying again."

"Why? Having second thoughts?" Martham sneered.

"No. I needed you all dead and the robot gone. It's no good if some of you are left, even if you promised to hide the planet, I could never believe you. And even if I managed to get one of you, the rest of you would kill me before I could finish it."

"Flaming core," breathed Blick.

"You see?" asked Martham, "This is the creature you begged me to be kind to."

"No," said Blick slowly, "I wanted you to be kind for your own sake. So you could remember this without the extra weight of shame. It will be hard enough without that."

Martham was silent for a long moment. Then she began untying Alice's hands. "One hand. Five minutes. That's all."

"Thank you," cried Alice. Martham backed away and pulled her weapon from her belt.

"I know you can't see out of one eye, but I have the jolt gun on you. Don't do anything except pull the stick out."

Alice raised her free hand carefully, gingerly touching the extractor's handle. Blick turned his face away and shut his eyes. She blew a long stream of air out and gripped the extractor. Martham flinched but didn't look away. Another long breath in and then a breathy groan and she dragged the wood slowly from her eye. Alice's arm shook with the effort, the suction of the stick fighting her. The end popped free at last, followed by a bubble of pink fluid that sat on Alice's eye. Her hand dropped into her lap. After a moment, she said, "May I have a bandage?"

Martham realized she was grinding her teeth. "Uh, yeah, of course." She fumbled with the bandages in her pocket. Alice screamed and Martham's head shot up just as Alice plunged the stick into her own thigh, still gripping the handles of the extractor.

"Dose her, Martham," shouted Blick, "She's going to kill herself." He unstrapped from the chair and careened over to the medkit, pulling out the last dose of Rem. Martham struggled with Alice, wrenching the extractor away from her. It went spinning off to a corner of the room as she wrestled Alice's arm back into the restraint. Blick slammed the Rem syringe into Alice's port and plunged. After a few gasping moments, she stopped struggling. Her head lolled back and her arm went slack between Martham's hands.

"Stars," Blick managed between heavy gusts of breath, "another hour like that and you might be right, I may not last the other twenty."

Martham looked up as the door slid open. Liu slid through. "I expected the first scream when you turned off the feed, but the second— I thought there might be trouble."

"Only the trouble she's caused to herself. Help Blick while I finish with her." She finally fished the bandage out of her pocket.

"Where's Emery?" asked Blick.

"Safe," said Liu. "She's just taking off the thermal suit."

He nodded and sank back into the seat as Liu helped him. Martham finished cleaning Alice's eye as well as she was able and sealed the bandage over her socket. She pulled herself down the chair to get a look at the wound in Alice's thigh, but found none. Only a hole in her thigh pocket. No blood seeped out. She opened the pocket, looking for another hole in the interior of the pants, but found instead a lumpen green thing. She reached in to pull it out so she could see.

She held it in one hand and poked around with the other. "Well, the thigh stab was a bluff anyway. Or a mistake. She didn't even make it through the pant leg," she muttered.

Blick opened his eyes. He leaned forward looking at the green thing in her hand. "Martham, what is that?"

She looked over at him. "Hmm? Oh, I'm not sure. It was in her pocket. Stress ball maybe? Light's not great in here."

"Sorry," said Liu tapping the console. The lights brightened. "Captain Stratton used to get headaches. We've— I've gotten used to running with the dimmers."

Martham stared at it, rolling it unevenly across her palm. "It feels like fabric or leather. She got it good with the stick though, some kind of dust leaking from it."

Blick squinted and she brought it closer. He stared at it for a second and then jerked back. "Masks!" he shouted, "Get the filtration masks!" He grabbed Martham's hand. "Stay perfectly still, Beatrice. And turn your face away. Liu, get the biowaste bag from the med kit and hand it to me."

Liu shot across the bridge and ripped the kit from the wall. He snapped it open and pulled a bag from its pouch. "Good," said Blick as he took it. "Now tell Emery to put her suit back on. And tell her to get the masks from the lab." He held open the mouth of the thick bag and slid it over Martham's hand to her wrist. He twisted it closed around her arm and it suctioned to her skin.

"Ow. I don't think it was meant for that," she said.

"Just hang on. We'll get your hand out of there. We just need to ask Issk'ath how. It said the neurotoxin won't pass through skin. You don't have any cuts?"

She shook her head.

"Good," sighed Blick. "Maybe we're o—" he froze as Alice began convulsing against the restraint straps.
49

"I'm sorry, Issk'ath," said Rebecca. She scrubbed at the soot on its chassis with the towel. "What Alice did— was nothing like what you did."

"Why do you iterate? You did not perform Alice's actions. You did not agree with her conclusions."

"But I am friends with her."

"Friendship should never be a matter for iteration. And I disagree. What I did was akin to what she has done. We had different motivations. I did it to save my people. She is doing it to save something other than her people. But the end result is similar. The casings are broken."

Rebecca pulled gently on its wings and they clicked open for her. She rubbed the towel over the shimmering net of lights. "But your people's minds are intact. You've kept them. Alice did not. My colleagues are gone."

Issk'ath's body whirred and the wings slid closed as it compressed. It stared at her and it chirped. "Is that why you mourn, Emery? Because you believe when the data disperses it is gone?"

"Isn't that why you keep them? So that it doesn't— evaporate?"

"Evaporate. That is a fitting statement. Yes, the data evaporates. It transmutes into another form. It is not uncreated. When the casing dies, it is like bursting an earthen water jug. The water runs away, sinks, evaporates. This is what happens with the data. But it is not gone. It's just no longer gathered the way that it was. The data, like the water, will someday return. In another jug, with other droplets. It will be rediscovered in the future. I keep my people because it is more efficient than chasing after those droplets of data. It is better than waiting for the rain. Like them, this metal is only another jug. Just a bigger one. And someday, this casing too, will shatter and the other Guardians as well, and all our data will evaporate. But I will still be Issk'ath. Just as you will still be Emery. And your colleagues are still themselves. Maybe, when next we are gathered, it will be in the same casing. And I would find that optimal."

Rebecca shook her head. "But what she did was wrong—"

"I am still not confident in my understanding of how you judge right and wrong, but what she did was wasteful. She believes it necessary, but your colleague, Martham, has proved it is not. To me, if not to your friend. It has caused suffering but yielded no result. It is not optimal. Perhaps she will iterate. But that is her task. It is not yours. Your actions have been entirely different. It is clear that your colleagues have distrusted me. They have not enjoyed my presence. You must have known this."

"Yes," she said, unsnapping her thermal boot.

"And yet you offered me a place with you. On your ship. In your home. When I expressed a desire to leave the planet, to obtain more data, you were very generous, even after the others had become frightened. You persuaded them over their own misgivings."

"It had little to do with me. They convinced themselves you would have crashed the Wolfinger if we did not follow your wishes."

"Then your trust and friendship mean even more. You could have convinced me to release my hold on the tether or the ship outside. You could have used my departure to bargain for reentry into the ship. But you did not. And again, you might have left me outside when you found a way in. Or trapped in the wall. The radiation levels would have corrupted my systems in a very short time. But you aided me again. You are not like Oxwell and I would mourn the dispersement of your data. Having access to it has been most intriguing. I would— miss you."

Rebecca smiled. "I like you too," she said.

"Emery are you there?" Liu's voice was rapid and uneven.

"I'm here. What's wrong?"

"Get your suit back on."

"But it's still recharging—"

"Then get another one on. Or just an environmental. You don't need the thermal. Just get something with air in it. And go get the filtration masks from the lab—"

A shout from Blick made him cut off.

"Scratch that. Don't go in the lab. You hear me Emery? Don't go in the lab and don't come to the bridge."

"What's going on?"

"Lean her forward Martham, she's going to— Blick?"

Issk'ath reached past her and pulled a suit from the rack. "Protect your casing, Emery," it said.

She slid it on, still listening.

"Is that robot with you, Emery?" asked Martham.

"I am here," answered Issk'ath.

"That seedpod, that neurotoxin pod you warned Blick about— what is the antidote?"

Issk'ath was still, the lights in its chassis winking and darting. "I apologize, Martham," said Issk'ath, "the antidote may exist, but the colony does not know of one. We did not spend sufficient time above ground to warrant research. I only discovered the seedpod's properties long after my people were gone."

"Soil and Rain! This can't be it," Martham's voice broke and Rebecca suspected she was crying.

"You were exposed?" she asked, twisting the helmet on.

"We all were. Oxwell had a pod. She pierced it— I let her pierce it. I didn't know. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Beatrice," Liu's voice was barely a whisper over the feed.

"Help them," said Rebecca, turning to Issk'ath.

"There is nothing to be done, Emery. Their casings will break. I cannot stop it."

"Then— then gather their data. Help!" She pushed out of the doorway. It pulled her back.

"You should not enter. I will try to help." Issk'ath flew down the hall and the bridge door slid open. Rebecca waited. Again, the sound of her own breath was the only sound she could hear.

"Liu?" she asked. "Martham? Blick?"

There was no answer. She waited a few long moments and they seemed to stretch, unspool until the shape of time was lost.

"Issk'ath?"

Silence was the only response. She glided tentatively forward. "Anybody?" She pushed against the wall, floating toward the bridge door. When it opened, Issk'ath hovered just above the floor, Martham's skull still impaled by its tarsus. Liu hung nearby, his shoulder brushing the wall and his chin on his chest. There was blood trickling through his hair. Blick and Alice were unmarked.

"Issk'ath?" she asked. She touched her glove to its chassis.

"Apologies, Emery," it said, "Processing." It fell silent again. She lowered herself down into Liu's pilot chair and strapped herself in. She took a long look at Alice. But it was Stratton's voice that echoed in her head.

"Mostly there's nothing. Just dark and silence and your own tiny container of people. It's boring. And sad. After a while, you start thinking, maybe that's it. That maybe your whole life is just rock and ice and quiet." She stared at the console. Twenty-five hours. If she could even find the Keseburg in all that emptiness. Her suit had eight. Maybe she could switch suits. Maybe she could purge the bridge, make the ship safe again.

And then... what? She had no way to contact the Keseburg, no way to correct her flight path, even if she could figure out how. No way to even know if she was about to run into it. Liu had been flying by math and instinct and the tiny range of the Wolfinger's local feed. There was no way. Unless— She would wait for Issk'ath. It turned to her after a few moments.

"I am sorry," it said.

"You didn't get them?"

"I did. They are here." It touched two new tiny lights that sat beside one another.

"That is good. Tell them I will bring our people to the planet. I will bring their work home."

"You won't, Emery. It is too late."

"What? No, I can figure it out. I'll activate the radio beacon. Here—" She tapped through Liu's console, sniffing and trying to concentrate. "There, the Keseburg will find us."

"They will. But you will not survive until then. I should have noticed. I am sorry. I turned my chemical sensors off during the fire so they would not overload. I was not scheduled for a process review until a few hours from now. They would not have reset until then unless I'd expressly turned them on again. It is an oversight I will iterate. Perhaps many times. If you had still been in your suit, the toxin would have dissipated within hours to non-lethal levels. But your casing is breaking. Liu showed me the Wolfinger's air cycling system. Your filters were not fine enough. The neurotoxin entered your lungs approximately thirty seconds after Oxwell burst the pod."

"But Blick, Martham— they all died within minutes. I don't feel anything."

"They had a concentrated exposure. The toxin is doing its work in your body, it is just advancing more gradually."

Her breath felt painful and she panicked, thinking it had already come. "Is there anything that will relieve your distress? I do not wish to see you suffer," said Issk'ath.

She tried to calm herself. "How long?" she managed.

"Several minutes. Perhaps less."

"Will it be painful?" Tears puddled in front of her eyes and made the bridge a kaleidoscope of refracting light. Issk'ath was a dazzling spark of gold.

"It does not need to be. Share my casing, Emery."

"How can I? I convinced you to come with us, to leave your entire world behind. And now I'm leaving you alone, trapped in an endless emptiness. An entire species, the memory of an entire culture set adrift where no one can find it. How can I join you? I'm a traitor. To you, to my people, to my friends—"

"You iterate because you believe we have lost something. You think space is empty. Dead. Without data. It is only because you cannot see it as I do. My colony was of no use on the planet. If it proves the same here, it is no worse. I have found more data in the past weeks because of you than in hundreds of mating cycles before. Your friendship does not need review. It was not a mistake. Share my casing, Emery. See the universe as I do. You are part of the colony now. Part of my nest. Come home."

Its tarsus waved toward her. She hesitated a moment, then slowly twisted off her helmet. Issk'ath pulled the filament feed gently from her neck port. The cool metal of its tarsus drew goosebumps from her skin as it slid by. There was a tingle that sizzled through her and then—

Issk'ath drifted back to the equipment lock. It picked up a stray Trojan Relay token that had stuck to the door frame with its pincer and twisted it thoughtfully. Emery's people was its new purpose. A brand new colony to protect. The beacon would draw her colleagues soon. Issk'ath needed to be ready. It needed to study their customs more thoroughly. Emery would help. It strapped itself in and the lights in its eyes stuttered out. Its chassis was a galaxy of light, shooting and swirling. The Wolfinger was quiet.
