liquid nourishment they took went directly into the bloodstream; the digestive system was inactive. They hardly had to use the complicated, sealed toilet, much to her relief. Running a hand over her scalp Deirdre remembered that there wasn’t any point in brushing her hair; it had been cut too short to matter.
So, taking in a deep breath of perfluorocarbon, she went to the hatch that opened onto the bridge. Her chest still hurt, a dull sullen ache like a bruise inside her lungs.
The instant she slid the hatch back Yeager beamed at her and said loudly, “Ah, sleeping beauty is back among us.”
Deirdre smiled and glided to her station, to the right of Dorn. The cyborg disengaged his feet from the deck loops and said, “Time for Andy and me to sleep.”
“Eat first,” Corvus said, grinning.
Yeager nodded and took up Dorn’s usual station at the control console.
“One of the beasts has returned,” Dorn told Yeager. “It’s hovering out there, at the limit of our sensor range. It appears to be watching us.”
“Maybe it’s hungry,” Yeager cracked.
Corvus shook his head. “It eats the organic particles. It’s not interested in us.”
“Not for food,” Dorn said.
“I’ll keep an eye on him,” said Yeager.
“Call me if anything changes,” Dorn said. “Anything at all.”
“Aye-aye, skipper,” Yeager replied, making a sloppy military salute.
Dorn grunted and turned toward the hatch to the sleeping area. Corvus trailed behind him. As he passed Deirdre, Andy asked in a near-whisper, “You okay, Dee?”
She nodded, despite the pain in her chest. “And you?”
“Can’t seem to shake this headache.”
“Is it getting worse?”
He shrugged. “I’ve had it so long now it’s hard to tell.”
“Maybe some sleep will make it better.”
“Maybe,” he said. Then he pushed away and swam through the hatch, leaving Deirdre alone with Yeager.
Why is the alien here? Leviathan asked itself for the hundredth time. What does it want?
The aliens that had appeared earlier were smaller, and shaped differently. They were silent, for the most part, and when they did try to communicate the signals they flashed were nothing but meaningless gibberish. But this alien is different: bigger, more intelligent. It can speak meaningfully.
Perhaps it is lost, Leviathan reasoned. This is not its usual domain. It doesn’t live here, it comes from the cold abyss above. Why doesn’t it return there? Why has it invaded the realm of the Kin? Why is it upsetting the Symmetry?
And it is moving deeper. Soon it will be at the level where the Kin are. Perhaps the Elders will know how to deal with it.
Leviathan pondered these questions as it accompanied the alien deeper, down to the warm and pleasant depth where the Kin thrived. Then a new thought occurred to it: The alien wanted to feed off us. Perhaps it is lost and starving.
Leviathan remembered when itself had been lost and hungry, high up on the edges of the cold abyss above. It had battled darters and been caught in the vicious swirling currents of a mammoth storm, thrown far from the realm of the Kin. Starving to the point where its members began spontaneously dissociating, Leviathan had been stalked by a filmy, tentacled monster. In a desperate fight, Leviathan had killed the beast and devoured it.
Perhaps this alien is in the same frantic need, far from its own kind, lost and starving. Perhaps it will dissociate and never be able to recombine again.
KATHERINE WESTFALL’S SUITE
A trick! Katherine Westfall fumed. He tricked me! The two of them, standing there so pompous and self- righteous.
She strode past the startled secretary in the anteroom, through the empty sitting room, and on into her bedroom, seething with fury. The pain in her abdomen was worse, sharper. She stopped before the full-length mirror. Her stomach looked bloated. Not much, not enough to notice, really. As if I’m pregnant, she thought. As if that smug-faced Archer’s knocked me up.
Her fists clenched with helpless frustration, Westfall felt a lump in her stomach working its way up her chest. She belched, surprising herself with the violence of it, the disgusting sound, the crudity. Devlin’s done this to me, she growled silently. Him and that psalm-quoting Archer.
She realized that she felt better. A little. Got rid of some gas, she told herself. How much more will there be? How much longer? A couple of days, from what Devlin said. I’ll have to stay locked away from everyone else until the nanos disable themselves. I can’t have anyone see me like this. Or smell me.
Sitting on the edge of her bed, Westfall thought, I’ll kill them. I’ll kill them both. They can’t do this to me. Not without paying for it. I’ll destroy them!
But then she realized, Archer’s no fool. He’ll have Devlin on video, telling the whole story. And that nanotech person, Torre, he’ll back up Devlin’s story. Archer will keep their testimony hanging over me. If anything happens to either one of them the whole story will come out. I’ll be ruined.
Worse than that, I’ll look stupid. Duped by a damned cook! The council will demand my resignation in a hot second.
She drew in a deep breath, trying to calm herself. And burped again. Damn them! she screamed silently. Damn them both.
Time. I’ll have to bide my time. Give Archer what he wants, it’s little enough. Get myself elected council chair. Then wait. Sooner or later an opportunity will come up. I’ll get Archer and that rat-faced cook. Both of them.
Westfall nodded to herself, satisfied. Patience is a virtue, she remembered her mother telling her. Time heals all wounds. As long as Archer doesn’t oppose me for the chairmanship I can afford to be patient.
Then she thought, Of course, if those creatures actually are intelligent, Archer will be the darling of the scientific world. He’ll be unassailable. For years to come. Patience, she told herself. Patience. Revenge is a dish best served cold.
Suddenly her innards cramped painfully and she practically hobbled toward the lavatory.
DECISION
Leviathan saw that the alien was moving deeper, although it was painfully slow. It is a creature of the cold abyss above, Leviathan reasoned. The warmer regions are not its natural domain.
Then why is it pushing downward? it asked itself. What is it seeking?
It isn’t feeding, Leviathan saw. The plentiful stream of food particles drifted down past the alien, who ignored them. It is pitifully small, it thought. It must be hungry. If we offered to let it feed off us, how much could it eat? Not enough to weaken us, surely.
But such a thought stirred revulsion in Leviathan’s mind. To let another creature feed off our flesh! Even if it merely devours some of our hide, the inert armor members of our outermost layer, it would be … monstrous.
Leviathan pondered the situation while watching the alien slowly, slowly forcing its way down toward the realm of the Kin, trailing a stream of hot bubbles behind it.
