Eight #2
Willow ignored him. Mostly. “Na’ashq’ii is answering the network.”
“What?”
“A biological command network.”
She looked down at Na’ashq’ii. The creature clicked once. A complicated rhythm she’d never heard before.
Willow slowly turned to look down the road.
The freha enhek closest to them started to turn black.
Renjik’s expression became very still. The kind of still that usually happened immediately before violence.
Willow’s pulse accelerated. “Well.” She swallowed, then tried again. “Good news.”
Renjik closed his eyes. “There’s never good news after you say it like that.”
“The freha enhek is definitely responding to Na’ashq’ii.”
A distant explosion rolled across the city. The transit station lights flickered. Na’ashq’ii clicked again.
Willow stared at the tower. Then smiled. The dangerous smile. The one that usually led to terrible decisions.
Renjik checked the street behind them. “Of course.”
“What?”
“I know that look.”
She pointed at the building. “We need to get there.”
“I hate that you’re going to be right.”
“That’s fair.”
RENJIK FELT THEM being watched. A subtle shift in the crowd. A gaze lingering too long. The sense that someone had identified a threat and was deciding what to do about it.
Willow was still staring down the street.
Na’ashq’ii clicked. More freha enhek stopped moving.
None of that was reassuring.
A sharp whistle cut through the noise of the crowd.
Renjik turned.
One of the local officials standing near the station entrance they’d passed had gone pale. The Scozid pointed directly at them. Then started shouting. The surrounding civilians looked. A second official looked. Then a third.
The translation implant struggled through overlapping voices. “...Alliance... ...human... ...Rucieth... ...armed... ...report immediately...”
Threx swore and then disappeared into the crowd.
“Problem?”
“The loyalists found us.”
“Ah.” That was all she said.
Renjik stared at her. “Ah?”
She shrugged. “I feel like the word adequately captures the situation.”
The official pointed again. A nearby security drone rotated toward them. That was less ideal. Its sensors flashed red. A loud tone sounded. The crowd immediately began moving away from them. People who had been arguing moments earlier suddenly wanted no part of whatever happened next.
Renjik understood the feeling.
The drone announced, “Remain stationary.”
Renjik immediately started moving. The drone objected. Its weapon systems unfolded from beneath the chassis.
Willow sighed. “See, this is why nobody likes authority.”
Renjik shot it out of the air.
Several nearby civilians screamed. The city collectively lost what remained of its composure. People scattered in every direction. Alarms began sounding again.
Apparently blowing up security assets was frowned upon. Who knew?
“Run.”
They sprinted toward the tower, now only a hundred meters away. Unfortunately, so did the security response. A transport skidded around the corner. Scozid poured into the street, each in protective armor and armed. Local security forces. Which somehow felt more annoying.
“They’re fast,” Willow observed.
The first squad spotted them immediately. One pointed. Another raised a weapon.
Renjik shoved Willow behind a barrier as plasma scorched the pavement where she’d been standing.
Na’ashq’ii hissed. The creature’s plates flashed black. Blue. Black. Like it couldn’t decide which emergency deserved priority.
“Stay down.”
Willow peered around the barrier. “Counterpoint.”
“No.”
“We need to reach the tower.”
“I’m aware.”
“We’re currently not moving toward the tower.”
Renjik resisted the urge to pick her up and physically relocate her. Mostly because she’d probably bite him.
The soldiers advanced. Still following orders while their city collapsed around them. A small part of him almost respected it. The larger part prepared to shoot them.
The lead soldier shouted something.
The translator rendered it a second later. “Surrender for processing.”
Willow blinked. “Processing sounds ominous.”
“Scozid terminology often does.”
Another demand followed. This one considerably less polite.
Renjik stood.
Willow immediately grabbed his belt. “Bad idea.”
“Probably.”
“Renjik.”
“They’re between us and the communication hub.”
“That’s not actually a rebuttal.”
The soldiers opened fire.
Renjik moved.
The first shot missed. The second struck his damaged arm. Pain exploded through his shoulder. The limb remained useless, but the impact turned him sideways.
The third shot would have hit his chest.
Willow shot the soldier first.
Everyone paused. Including the security forces.
Willow slowly lowered the weapon.
The silence lasted approximately one second. Then every remaining loyalist started shooting at them.
Renjik charged. The distance vanished beneath his feet. The first soldier went down hard enough that its armor cracked the pavement. The second discovered that armor did very little against an angry Rucieth. The third wisely attempted retreat.
Renjik admired the instinct.
Around him the city continued dying. The orbital elevator darkened another section. The emergency sirens cut out abruptly as the freha enhek found them. Contamination warnings flooded public channels.
Na’ashq’ii clicked sharply.
Willow’s eyes widened. “Well.”
Renjik looked over one shoulder.
She had that expression again. The one that meant she’d figured something out.
He sighed.
There was still shooting. Still panicking civilians. Still a city collapsing around them.
Yet somehow he knew the most dangerous thing present was whatever idea had just occurred to Willow.
“Tell me later.”
She grinned. “I don’t think later is an option.”
That wasn’t reassuring.
But the road ahead was finally clear.
So Renjik shot the last loyalist, grabbed Willow’s wrist, and dragged her toward the communication tower. Whatever answers waited, they were about to find them.
WILLOW STAYED AS close to Renjik’s back as she could without becoming a parasite. The crowd had thinned, most of the civilians having panicked and run. That made it easier to maneuver.
The new threat was the buildings themselves. Several were built with energy stabilizers—mostly decorative, but some held the weight of the entire building they were attached to. Which meant they were literally dodging buildings as the freha enhek reached the stabilizers and they failed.
Willow kept one arm wrapped around her pet, and the other on Renjik’s belt as he maneuvered them through falling debris. She tried not to count the slimy puddles that littered the ground. The only remnants of Scozid civilians not quick enough.
She was too full of adrenaline to be scared.
“Almost there.”
Half of Renjik’s words were snatched away by an explosion as another system fell to the weapon. She’d seen more tuppu rain down from the sky and hoped Det’ae was following her advice to target only the military and off-world communications.
Although at that point, trying to save anything in the city may be a moot point.
The rest of the planet still had a chance. If they made it to the communications relay in time.
A high-ranking Scozid stepped out from between two buildings and raised its weapon at them. Renjik fired without slowing down.
He didn’t break stride as he approached the transparent doors of their target. They were blown out, hanging from what was left of the hinge mechanism. He finally stopped in the lobby. “Where now?”
She consulted Na’ashq’ii, who pointed up. “I guess we go up.”
She started for a mag lift but Renjik turned her around and pushed her toward the stairs.
“Yes, I suppose that’s smarter.”
Tendrils of green were already snaking along the road outside.
A low vibration started after four levels. By the fifth, it was moving the air around them.
On a good day, they could have made the climb with no problem. Willow would have been cussing the whole way, but she could have made it.
That wasn’t a good day.
Both of them were struggling for breath and giving their last bit of energy to make it up the last few steps. When they reached the communication level, they both sank into chairs. Willow gave herself exactly three pants before she straightened and got to work.
The relay tower was old, like Threk promised. Technology she recognized, or close enough. She pressed buttons and spun dials and the hum changed frequency as the array woke up.
She gathered every node in the room and lined them up along the console. Each should be a different wavelength. A way to reach another part of the planet.
“How is this going to work?” Renjik’s voice betrayed his exhaustion.
She kept working. “The contamination passes commands from one infected surface to the next.
“Na’ashq’ii can answer those commands.” She pointed at the array. “This will carry its countermand across the planet. We aren’t stopping the weapon. We’re telling it to shut down.”
She plugged the final connector into its socket and sat back, satisfied with her work. “First, we’ve to get whoever will listen to turn up the radio.”
“The what?”
“The local receivers. I suspect a lot of them are turned off given the age of the array. We need as many of them on as possible.”
She took a deep breath, and activated the array. “To those who remain, this is Dr. Willow Benally. I’ve a way to stop the spread of the contamination. A way that doesn’t rely on destroying technology. But I need your help.”
Neutral cadence. Not victory, not surrender. “I need the sound that I’m going to broadcast to reach as much of infected areas as possible. Turn every receiver on. Turn them to maximum volume.”
She repeated the message three times, hearing the muffled sound of the Vekh broadcast in the background and knowing it was countermanding everything she said. All she could do was hope enough individuals heard it and were willing to ignore their government to save their lives.
She gently unfolded Na’ashq’ii from where it draped itself around her neck. She placed it in front of the line of nodes. “Okay buddy. I’m counting on you to stop the spread of this thing.”