New bright screens lit up on the Primary Executive’s display. The symbols in each window had gotten larger. Most were flashing.
The worm snatched her up. With its weapon slung, the creature had her with all six hands. She fought but it was no good. The Primary Executive was strong enough to tear her limb from limb. Its foul breath choked her as it pulled her close to its helmet.
She saw her own terrified reflection in the visor.
The worm pressed her down into the medical bed. Barked.
“Stop it, Carmen!” her mom’s voice shouted.
“Not until all of them get out of this room and put me in touch with the Cordice engineer.”
“There’s no time—”
“It’s not a request. If they’re not back in their airlock in five minutes, the harvester is going to eat not only their ship but this one. No one gets what they want.”
The worm reared back for a moment. Had her mom relayed the message? With a grunt it surged towards the exit door. The rest of the Melded followed. Carmen didn’t wait to see if they left. She reconnected.
The harvester had scalped a portion of the hull off the rearmost hump of the Melded ship. Numerous arrays and one freestanding tower lousy with antennae had been pulverized. The harvester had breached one of the ship’s center sections, which had been under pressure. Gas vented from a gaping tear, shooting a white cloud of crystallized air into the black. An external rack had been torn open and nearly detached, revealing several long tubes.
Other harvester fingers had closed onto new sections of the hull. They started scraping. Armor plating and an external tank broke free as easy as peeling the skin off an onion.
Stop.
With the command, the harvester froze in place.
The airlocks and retractable passageway between the Melded vessel and the home ship remained intact. Moments later the worm retreated to the Melded ship, followed by the guards.
She had done it. They had withdrawn.
Though she knew she should keep watching, she disconnected and fell as she climbed out of the bed. Her mother was over there. She had tried to save her. Had she been infected or brainwashed? There was no knowing. But their conversation had felt as frustrating as any Carmen had had with her mom before the mission.
She got up and hurried to Jenna’s side. Her sister lay on the floor. Still breathing, but it was weak. Blood continued to seep from the wound in her belly. Whatever first aid green-eyed Ovo had administered either wasn’t working or needed more attention. Jenna’s skin was clammy and sweat beaded her face. Carmen scooped her up and placed her in the bed. Waited.
Nothing happened.
Where were the little robots that would make her better?
Carmen looked helplessly up at the ceiling as if someone might be watching. If there was an automated system in place, it was ignoring her.
“Is anyone there? How do I turn this on?”
She walked around the bed, a growing sense of helplessness twisting inside her. She had come so far, found her mother only to lose her, and now she was about to watch her sister die.
The only noise came from the soft hum and clicks of whatever machinery worked behind the walls. Her stomach growled obscenely. She was alone and she could only guess as to what would come next. Maybe no one would come. She would be allowed to starve. Or the Cordice historian, still in control within the simulation, would just open a hatch and blow her into space, or vent the air and suffocate her.
If the worm returned, would she even fight? She didn’t know if she had the strength to rush back to the bed and reconnect to the harvester. They had called her bluff. She wouldn’t murder them and she wouldn’t kill her mother.
And who was she to stop any of it? An enemy who could devastate worlds? A culture of billions divided and living inside a computer, and she had the audacity to tell them how to use their spaceship? And the Melded…whatever they were. Warrior-like opportunists? Bullies? And why had her mother even thrown her hat in with them?
She gripped Jenna’s hand and tried to remember anything from church that would console her.
Motion caught her eye.
Next to She Who Waits’ body, the two drones bobbed at ankle level, like obedient dogs waiting for their master to rise. The limp tentacles had shriveled further. The translator had helped them beyond her “designation” and that had cost her everything.
Carmen went to her and touched one of She Who Waits’ slack limbs. It twitched.
“You’re…alive?”
But even as no answer came, Carmen pushed the broken suit pieces aside. They were as light as plastic. A residue of the sandy stuff was scattered around her. The tentacle was attached to a thicker stump or stalk that had multiple limbs attached. There was no visible head, no face, no obvious eyes or ears or anything. But this was She Who Waits, and she was as light as a child as Carmen pulled her free of the shell.
Carmen took her to the medical bed she had used to connect with the network and placed her inside.
“Tell it to help you. The Cordice will listen. Hello? You have to help her. It’s She Who Waits and she’s dying. Is anyone there?”
When she didn’t get a reply she slapped the frame of the bed. Whispered, “If you’re still alive, you’ve got to tell this thing to fix you like you did for Jenna.”
The twitching through She Who Waits’ body subsided. She had been denied the atmosphere within her suit for so long. And what other damage might she have suffered from the explosion?
Carmen kneeled and leaned on the bed frame. She barely noticed one of the floating bots close in. A
