Seven
Seven
T hey aren’t , it says . Oh, Dafyd. I’m so sorry, but they aren’t.
Its heart is beating fast, driven by adrenaline. Its breath is fast and shallow, gas exchanging in its lungs as if the moment were a promise of violence.
Else says Be careful. Oh be careful. But it is too late for caution.
With a pang of regret, the swarm takes a half step back from the embrace.
Confusion shifts the shape of Dafyd’s eyes, the angle of his head.
It has imagined this moment many, many times, thought through many, many words that would unfold its hidden existence.
Now that the moment has come, it rolls up its sleeve, bares the thin skin at its wrist, and lets the microagents that are its peculiar body cohere—black motes swirl under its skin like flakes in a snowstorm.
It discovers that it is holding its breath.
Dafyd changes. His heart speeds up, the skin of his hands and feet cool as blood is pulled to his core, but he doesn’t cry out. The swarm tells itself that the shock is only shock. It isn’t fear.
Its smile feels uncertain. Shy. I didn’t know how to tell you. I am so sorry.
Dafyd takes in a long, slow, shuddering breath. His gaze shifts from the black motes of its skin to its eyes and back again. It’s in you ? Else passed it to you before she died.
In the darkness of its mind, Jellit leans forward. Here we go. Now it gets ugly.
She didn’t die , the swarm says . She’s in here. She’s in me. I’m Else.
Dafyd takes a step back. His head is shaking like he’s denying something, but he doesn’t seem to realize he’s doing it. When he speaks, the words come slowly, awkwardly, as if he has to make each one from scratch. Else and the spy. They were cooperating.
We still are , it says . We’re right here. I am Else. And the spy, but I am Else.
And Else speaks, her voice quiet. He doesn’t understand. He only sees you as Jellit.
The swarm understands, shifts to its memories of when it inhabited the woman’s body, of who and what it had been when it first knew Dafyd.
When it speaks, it speaks as her. The first time you and I kissed was in my rooms back on Anjiin.
It was right before the attack started. I wanted to keep you there, underground where it was safe.
We’d gone looking for the telescope, remember?
You started to ask me, but then you lost your nerve a little.
Dafyd steps back again, almost stumbling, and it moves forward, almost catching him, except that he flinches away.
It’s okay. It’s okay. I kissed you, you remember?
When I was Else, I kissed you. And she’s still here. She’s still me.
Dafyd puts his hand on its breastbone, pushing as he steps away. Its arms stay up and out toward the man like kelp in the sea. There are tears on its cheeks.
Else is dead , Dafyd says . They found her body.
It was only a body. The rest is still here. I’m right here .
I don’t understand.
The fear and excitement have congealed into a desperate kind of frustration. It knows what it needs to convey to him, how the situation can make sense for him, but the words don’t carry enough power. It’s like trying to work inside a delicate box with oversized work gloves on. Its hands flutter.
Else says Tell him about Jellit.
Do , Jellit says . Go ahead. Tell him about me.
There was no way to convince Jellit to cooperate , it says . He was adamant. I knew you wouldn’t tell the librarian if he didn’t, and we had to tell. We didn’t have an option. So we left Else’s body behind and came to his. Only the body. Nothing else. Nothing that matters.
The distant echo of Ameer Kindred shakes her head. That’s unconvincing. I wouldn’t believe it if I were him.
Jellit laughs, and the laugh has sharp edges. I wouldn’t understand it if I were him.
It pushes them both away. It can’t afford to be distracted. Not now. I didn’t tell you because… I don’t know why I didn’t tell you. Because maybe you wouldn’t understand. I didn’t have a choice.
Dafyd lets out a breath that’s deeper than the others, like a sigh. It sounds like a bird landing. You’re Else.
Yes.
And… and the other thing.
The swarm… the spy. Yes. It’s just like before.
Where’s Jellit?
In the darkness, Jellit spreads imaginary hands. The swarm can’t keep the flash of chagrin from its mouth. It doesn’t want to talk about Jellit or Ameer or itself even. It wants Dafyd and Else together. It wants what they had before.
But.
He’s here too. Everyone comes along. It’s hard to explain, but the person I was on Anjiin, the person I was when we were on the transport together, that’s still me .
I’m still her. I’m just maybe a little bit more too.
It’s okay, Dafyd. It’s a good thing. The mission never failed.
We can still win, just the way we planned.
Dafyd backs away. His steps are unsteady, but it gives him his space. He gags once, stumbles, doubles over.
It wants to bring him back from wherever his mind has taken him. It needs him here. In this moment. I wanted to tell you earlier.
She said it was riding along with her. She said they were partners.
It has reviewed that moment a thousand times. More. It knows every word it spoke, every answer Dafyd gave. Now it also knows what he heard. They aren’t the same. I said it was complicated.
Was it ever her? Was it ever just her? he asks. His eyes widen, harden, turn on it with something like horror. What the hell are you?
But something else grabs its attention. A noise, a scent, a presentiment of something dangerous.
It turns toward the archway, the gentle clicking footfalls too low for human ears, but not for it.
The pale knife legs of a Rak-hund emerge from the shadows.
Other shapes loom behind it: the eerie long limbs and squat, powerful bodies of four Soft Lothark.
They heard us , Jellit says . They were listening the whole time, and now they’re going to kill us all.
The swarm feels a rush of horror at the thought and from Else a kind of relief that it is all, at least, over. And as the Rak-hund clicks and slithers forward, an unexpected pang of mourning. Jellit in his rage and glee, regretting that the Carryx wouldn’t suffer for what they’d done.
The four Soft Lothark amble out to stand beside the Rak-hund.
The patchy brown fur that covers their bodies looks greasy and matted.
Their tiny eyes are utterly black and unreadable, and their mouths so wide they look like they could unhinge their jaws.
Dafyd stands, and the swarm has to stop itself from stepping between him and the threat of the alien soldiers.
I left my half-mind over there , Dafyd says, gesturing . What do you want? What are you doing here?
The Soft Lothark look at each other and make a volley of grumbling, wet sounds.
Then one steps forward from the others, standing beside the Rak-hund.
The black square at its throat speaks. We seek out the one who assists the keeper-librarian of the Humans of Anjiin.
We were told he smelled as you smell. Is this you?
It prepares itself for a final violence.
If it releases itself now, lets the human flesh that has carried it so far fall away, it can become a cutting storm.
It can kill all the enemies before it and many, many more.
But not all. The palace is well defended.
And the Carryx will not mourn those they’ve lost. It will die for an empty gesture of defiance. But it will also die protecting Dafyd.
It begins to let go…
It is , Dafyd says . My name is Dafyd Alkhor. What do— The words choke him. He tries again. What do you want?
All four Soft Lothark make a wheezing huff together that, in something even slightly comprehensible, would have been laughter. The swarm doesn’t know what it signifies, but sees no tension in their bodies. They have not attacked.
Something unanticipated is happening.
You have suffered violence that inconveniences the Carryx , the Soft Lothark says .
A hundred of our— the half-mind pauses a short second, then —clan group are now assigned to your moiety to help you maintain physical security.
We were also to escort this one which is assigned to protect your person in particular.
It gestures toward the Rak-hund.
Dafyd barks out a single laugh. He doesn’t seem to know he’s done it. Ekur assigned me guards?
It is the excellence of our moiety , the Soft Lothark says . We are agents of appropriate violence. It is our role and place in society. The Rak-hund will keep you from unwelcome violence and kill anything of lesser status that you indicate.
The words what are you float to the top of the swarm’s mind.
Dafyd’s look of horror. The many ways that this moment balances on a knife-edge come clearer to it.
The dangers. The things that it needs to say that cannot now be said.
The weapons of the enemy that have come to surround the man that it loves. The man who is now afraid of it.
Another hour. Another minute. Another chance to make clear to Dafyd that it is the same person he took comfort in. It wants that time more than it wants to draw another breath. But it can’t have it.
I should… the swarm says, and gestures off at the archway as if it were only Jellit.
Yes , Dafyd says . His laugh is dark and bitter. You should probably go.