Chapter 20
- Nora -
"I see you," I tell him, and pull his face down to mine.
The kiss is messy and desperate and perfect.
He swallows my next moan and gives me one of his own, a deep, shuddering sound I've never heard from him before, one that vibrates through his whole body and into mine.
His thrusts shorten and deepen. The widest ridge catches at my entrance with every stroke, and the pressure of it against the most sensitive part of me builds and builds until my vision starts to blur at the edges.
"Don't stop," I beg against his mouth. "Don't you dare stop—"
He doesn't. He drives into me with a focus that borders on ferocity, one hand gripping the platform's edge hard enough that the living material groans, the other cupping the back of my skull as though I'm something precious he's afraid of breaking even now, even in this.
The climax hits me like a shockwave. My whole body locks around him, legs, arms, every internal muscle clenching in waves so intense that a ragged scream tears out of me.
In the same instant, blue-white lightning arcs between us, a single blinding crack that illuminates the chamber and is gone before the echo fades.
And then it's ripped from me, three words I've never said to his face, never let myself say out loud: "I love you!"
“I love you, my brave, unarmored alien female,” he growls as he follows me over the edge.
I feel it happen. The flaring of the ridges, the deep throb of his release, the sudden, powerful heat of him filling me while a sound tears from his chest that's half roar, half something I don't have a human word for.
His wings snap taut, quivering, then slowly fold around us both like a living shelter.
For a long time afterward, neither of us moves.
His forehead rests against mine, cool carapace against flushed skin. Our breathing tangles together in the warm air. I can feel his heart hammering against my chest in a rhythm that gradually slows to match my own.
"If the Queen takes this away from me," he says quietly, "I will rip her Nest apart."
I trace the edge of one antenna with my fingertip. "You don't mean that."
He's silent long enough for me to look up. His eyes meet mine, and what I see in them isn't humor or hyperbole. It's a promise so absolute it frightens me.
"Krix'vorr."
"What?"
"You can't rip the Nest apart."
"Watch me," he says, and kisses me again before I can argue, and for a little while longer, the Queen and the Nest and the whole dangerous galaxy remain exactly where they belong.
Somewhere else.
Krix'vorr lies on his back while I rest against his side.
One of his arms remains draped across me, and the steady pulse of the Beast moves through the chamber walls around us.
The warmth from a few minutes ago still lingers beneath my skin, but my thoughts have finally begun catching up with everything that's happened.
Sophia. The Gzet. The Queen. Every time my mind circles back to the future, it eventually reaches the same destination.
The Nest.
I trace one finger along the edge of a dark plate on Krix'vorr's chest before glancing up at him. "Krix'vorr?"
One antenna twitches. "Mm."
"What exactly is the Nest?"
For a moment he says nothing. The pause isn't long, but it's long enough for me to notice. Krix'vorr rarely hesitates when answering questions. Usually he speaks with the certainty of someone who has already decided what the truth is. "I've been deciding how much to tell you."
I prop myself up on one elbow and study him. "Is it that bad?"
"No, not at all. Not bad. Not bad as such."
“Well?”
"The Nest is the birthplace of my Brood," he says. "It's also the center of the Queen's authority. All my Swarm are hatched there.”
I have some flashbacks to what I’ve heard of bees and other insects. “The Queen lays all the eggs?”
“What? No, of course not! Not all of them. She has several underqueens who lay many, too.”
“So this queen of yours… did she lay you?” The topic kind of creeps me out, but I’m also fascinated.
“No, I was laid by an underqueen called Batr-xuz. A most respected underqueen, by all accounts. I’ve never met her. The underqueens are held in isolation from the rest of the Brood, except for mating purposes.”
It’s a little overwhelming, and I don’t know what to make of all of this. “How many in your Brood?”
"By now? Must be billions, most almost ready for the Harvest. The Nest is where decisions are made because the Queen lives there. Harrowers report there. Harvest fleets receive assignments there. When the Queen commands someone's presence, they go."
I think that over for a moment. "And if they don't?"
"If they don’t? The idea is absurd. I have never heard of anyone not obeying." The answer comes so calmly that it takes a second to register.
"You can't refuse her."
"I have difficulties imagining it."
That isn't what I expected. I watch him for a moment, trying to determine whether he's joking. He isn't. "But you won't."
"I never have."
The Beast's heartbeat continues beneath us while I picture the place ahead.
The Nest sounds less like a city and more like the center of an empire.
Everything I've seen so far suggests that the locusts take power seriously.
The thought of meeting the creature who commands all of them makes my stomach tighten.
I have many questions. I’m kind of scared of the answers, but I have to ask at least one. "What happens when you arrive with me?"
His hand moves through my hair. The gesture is familiar enough now that I lean into it without thinking. "I don't know. As far as I know, nobody’s ever brought the Queen someone like you."
"What do you think she'll do?"
He thinks about it. "She'll want to see you."
That doesn't improve my mood. "And after that?"
His arm tightens around me. "After that, Nora, I'll make certain nobody harms you."
The certainty returns to his voice. He isn't certain about the Queen. He isn't certain about the Nest. He isn't even certain about what awaits us there. But he's certain about that.
I make sure not to ask him what happens if his Queen orders him to.
I rest my head against his chest and listen to the steady, impossibly slow rhythm beneath it. The future remains full of unanswered questions, most of them not pleasant.
Yet for the moment, with the Beast carrying us toward the Nest and Krix'vorr's arm around me, I find myself calmer than I have any right to be.
- - -
The Beast’s pulse changes. At first it's only a difference beneath my feet as Krix'vorr and I make our way back toward the command chamber. Then I become aware that the rhythm has become faster and more purposeful.
The living corridors around us feel busier than before. Membranes open and close constantly while crewmembers move through them carrying bundles, tools, and messages. Nobody appears worried. If anything, they seem energized.
The closer we get to the command chamber, the more obvious it becomes that something important is happening.
When we enter, the atmosphere feels completely different from the battle earlier.
Every viewing lens is occupied. Crewmembers cluster around the larger ones while others exchange information using tablets and bundles of organic documents.
Antennae twitch constantly. Several locusts appear unable to remain still for more than a few seconds.
When we enter, they all look at Krix’vorr and bow, some dropping to the ground.
Krix'vorr notices me watching them. "We are approaching the Nest."
A strange feeling settles into my stomach. Until now, the Nest has been an idea, a place that existed somewhere ahead of us. Suddenly it feels real, and threatening.
I move toward the largest viewing lens. The image shows stars scattered across darkness.
Then my eyes catch something wrong with the darkness itself.
Something enormous occupies part of the view.
My brain immediately begins searching for familiar explanations, like a cloud or a moon, or maybe a planet.
But its shape is far too strange for that, too irregular.
And where a moon would have craters by the thousands, this one doesn’t.
But there’s texture, rough and striated.
The object grows larger.
"Oh,” I exclaim.
The thing hanging in space resembles a wasp nest. At least that's the closest comparison my mind can find.
The structure isn't round or even symmetrical.
Vast bulbous chambers protrude from every side.
Towers rise from its surface like organic stalagmites.
Millions of openings puncture the exterior.
Some glow faintly. Others are so large that entire cities could disappear into them.
The scale is impossible, and I’m sure that the Nest is larger than Earth's moon. My eyes struggle to focus on individual details because there are simply too many. Then I notice something that makes my skin crawl.
The surface moves. Sections contract and expand in slow rhythms. Great membranes ripple across the exterior. Rivers of glowing fluid travel through translucent tubes thick enough to contain skyscrapers.
“How is that thing a nest? It’s far too big.”
“Of course the Nest of Queen Szum-zic must be large, in scale with her power and fierceness,” Krix’vorr says, and I’m sure I detect pride in his voice.
The Nest continues growing larger as the Beast approaches.
New details emerge constantly. My eyes begin separating individual shapes from the impossible mass.
There are spaceships, thousands of them.
All some kind of living being. Some resemble the Beast. Others are long and narrow.
Some are broad enough to look like floating islands.
Others carry enormous armored growths that make them resemble drifting fortresses.
They’re completely dwarfed by the Nest, and the closer they are to the surface, the smaller they look.
I blink and lean closer to the viewing lens. There are so many! The more I look, the more vessels I discover. They crawl across the Nest's surface in every direction.
"How many of you live there?"
Krix'vorr follows my gaze toward the endless traffic moving around the Nest. He actually thinks about the answer before speaking. “By now, billions. A Swarm is usually about ten billion of us, and the Harvesting is not far away.”
The number should mean something. It should trigger some kind of useful comparison. Instead my mind simply refuses to process it. The Nest is too large. Every city I've ever known could disappear somewhere inside that thing and nobody would notice.
The Beast pushes deeper into the surrounding traffic. More ships emerge from the immense openings scattered across the Nest's surface. Others vanish into them. Watching the movement makes me think of blood cells traveling through veins.
The Nest doesn't feel like a space station of a city. Those are gradually built and don’t change much. But this thing feels alive.
I watch one opening consume a ship larger than anything Space Force ever dreamed of. Moments later another emerges carrying vast bundles of biological material I can't identify. Everything moves with purpose. Everything appears connected.
"Do all of these belong to your Brood?" I ask.
“It’s a mighty Brood,” he says with satisfaction.
The Nest fills almost everything now. Individual structures tower above us.
Some resemble immense organic spires. Others look more like swollen chambers attached to the main body by thick living bridges.
Glowing fluids move through transparent vessels everywhere I look.
The entire structure pulses with slow biological rhythms.
It’s the most chilling thing I’ve ever seen. For the first time since leaving Earth, I understand what it feels like to be a very small creature standing beside something ancient and incomprehensibly large.
Ahead of us, one of the colossal openings continues expanding across the viewing lens. The closer we get, the larger it becomes. Ships stream through it continuously. Some enter in groups. Others travel alone. None hesitate.
The Beast continues forward without slowing. The opening expands until it fills the entire viewing lens. Living walls surround the entrance. Vast membranes contract and expand along its edges while streams of glowing fluid travel through translucent channels overhead.
Nobody in the command chamber appears concerned. Instead they seem excited,and their hushed conversations pick up.
I guess they're coming home.
I grip the edge of the viewing platform a little tighter as the Beast crosses the threshold. The stars vanish behind the ship and the Nest closes around us.