Playing God (31 page)
Lareet had found herself in complete agreement with Umat afterward. Umat had flicked an ear toward Commander Keale, and murmured, “I would not call him an enemy, Sister, but I believe we now know who our opponent in this game is.”
Lareet turned to a path that rambled beside the principal river. The Ovrth Vrand, Pavch and Zan, sat on the riverbank surrounded by a grove of fishing poles. Long lines trailed into the water. Members of the squad sat beside them, patiently knotting together thick cords to make nets.
Ovrth Pavch grinned up at Lareet. “We'll eat well tonight.” She pointed to a net on the grass, already full of silver-scaled fish. “This is easier than going to market. The Humans haven't bred any fight in the creatures.”
Lareet forced her ears back against her scalp. “Ovrth Pavch, as members of the preparatory team, we have important work to do. We are not supposed to be lolling about fishing.”
Ovrth Pavch's face rippled with a concern that was as false as Lareet's severity. “How else am I supposed to feed my
irthiat
who are busy inspecting, measuring, and generally surveying this city? Am I ordered to condemn them to Human food?”
Lareet laughed and inhaled the fish's freshwater scent appreciatively. “Of course not See if they've put in any eels for us, would you, Ovrth Pavch? I haven't had a ready fresh eel in the longest time.”
“As you command, Dayisen Lareet.”
Lareet gazed upriver. A small, open boat of freshly varnished wood steered its way between two larger trawlers. Umat raised her free hand to hail her sister. Lareet waved back, squeezed Ovrth Pavch's shoulder, and strode down to the little cement dock, just as Umat pulled up. She stepped down into the boat and settled herself so she faced Umat in the stern.
Umat flicked the lever that put the boat's whispering motor into forward gear and steered them away from the bank and to the center of the river. The motor and the current carried them from the
Ur's
center toward one of the forested parks.
“So, my Sister,” said Umat. “What do you think of this pretty city we've been given?”
Lareet's gaze flickered to the shore, up the trunks of the drooping trees that trailed their branches in the water, and back toward the apartment buildings vanishing around the river bend.
“It is about as we thought,” Lareet said softly. “Most of the municipal buildings and factories are monitored, but the apartments are clear, as near as we can tell. The hatches are all sealed, and the locks must be on the other side.”
Umat nodded. “Have we got a count on the Marines yet?”
“The Ovrth Ches are searching through the
databases
for troop numbers and where they're stationed.”
Umat smiled and touched her sister's hand. “We've done well today.”
Lareet trailed her fingers in the clear water. The river had a sandy bottom with emerald green algae clinging to the occasional stone. Silver fish the length of her finger whisked upstream.
Is this really what the world used to look like?
“The Humans hide so much, Umat. Are we sure we're seeing both the fish and the school?”
Umat sighed and tugged Lareet's ear. “No, we're not. But we have to try, Lareet.”
Lareet dipped her ears. “Of course we do. No matter what.”
Whether or not Scholar Arron and the other Humans understand.
Lareet did not speak that thought out loud.
They sailed down the river in silence. Lareet felt herself calming slowly. Around them, the trees cleared from the banks to reveal tidy rows of low, boxy buildings. When it was time to rebuild the cities on Earth, Lareet was going to suggest maintaining this practice of keeping manufacturing facilities separate from the main living and governmental quarters. It was a less efficient use of space but a more pleasant one.
Umat angled the boat toward another concrete dock, a twin to the one they'd taken off from.
From here they could see where the sky sloped down to meet the tree line. At night, when the dome cleared, they would be able to stand in those trees and look outside. To the far right, they would see the docking area for the shuttles. Straight ahead about ten yards from their dome, they would see the smaller, opaque dome that held the engine room. Those ten yards were the most direct route from the city to the Human areas of the ship.
Lareet had no doubt at all that Commander Keale had thought about that carefully.
Umat took her hand, startling her out of her reverie. “You feel well, Sister? Your womb does not trouble you?”
Lareet waggled her ears briefly. “Sister, I never feel anything until the fourth month, you know that.”
“I just wanted to make sure. You looked troubled.”
Lareet shook her head. “Not troubled, just concerned about what their Commander Keale has set up as obstacles for us.”
Umat shrugged. “We'll find out soon enough.”
Hand in hand, they walked across the lawn to the manufactury set aside for metalworks. The Dayisen Avit, Huir, and Wital, met them at the main door. After the formalities and polite expressions of wonder at the beauty of their city, the Dayisen Avit led them to the manufactury floor.
Lareet was used to manufacturies being loud, filthy, stench-choked places. This warehouse of a room was almost sterile. The workers stood or sat around video monitors mounted on sealed vats, long tubes, or boxlike constructions. They all spoke in hushed voices as if afraid to interrupt the gentle hum filling the air. Off to the side, more people stood around, examining diagrams and passing small ingots of metal among themselves and making notes.
Dayisen Huir rattled off a stream of commentary about output and technique with barely suppressed excitement. The wonder of the Humans’ equipment! They were learning something new every five minutes. There were Human experts on call, of course, but they were barely needed because the
computer
instructions were so comprehensive. Here they were planning bridges and catwalks between the buildings. Here, they were seeing about additional piping for interior and courtyard fountains. Everyone was, of course, coordinating with the architectural families, but the possibilities were endless. Dayisen Wital escorted them in silence, her face creased with good-natured bemusement at her sister's flood of words.
Finally, the Dayisen Avit ushered them into a side chamber. The room was long and narrow and almost empty. Two metal sheets had been propped up at the far end. Two others leaned against a table beside the door. The table also had a plastic case sitting on it.
“This is a storage room,” said Dayisen Huir as she closed the door. “It's not monitored, as far as we can tell.”
Dayisen Wital opened the case and displayed the matching pair of shoulder guns.
Lareet lifted out one of the freshly machined guns and checked the ammunition cartridge. Cradling the stock against her shoulder, she took careful aim at the steel plate at the other end of the room. Next to her, Umat did the same. The Dayisen Avit shoved the table and its metal plates around to form a makeshift shield for them.
Umat lowered her ears. “One, two, three.”
Lareet and Umat fired together. Light, smoke, and noise erupted with the shots, then faded away. They ducked behind the shield. The shots ricocheted off the sheets and thumped into the walls.
Umat sneezed. Gunsmoke always did that to her. Lareet patted her shoulder absently, looked down at the gun, then looked at the plates at the end of the room. The bullets had left deep grooves in the inch-thick steel.
She nodded. “Very good, Dayisen Avit. They will do.”
“There is one more thing you need to see,” said Dayisen Huir. “If you'll come outside?”
They walked back into the warm daylight. The Dayisen Avit led them across a grassy lawn toward the edge of the dome with its concealing trees.
They stopped at a white surveyor's stick that had been thrust into the turf. Dayisen Huir turned to them. “Dayisen Lareet, would you please walk toward the dome?”
Lareet felt her ears fall back just a little, but she did as Dayisen Huir requested. For the first few steps, everything was fine. Then, she noticed that ahead of her, the grass lay strangely. The blades pressed flat against the ground. She glanced at the trees, blinked, and looked again. It looked as if the trees leaned toward her.
A few more steps and her legs began to feel heavy. She leaned into her steps. Her eyes told her the ground was flat, but every fiber in her body told her she was toiling up an increasingly steep hill. After another yard, she fell to her knees. She tried to keep going on her knees, but at last she had to lie flat on her belly and crawl.
World Mothers, what have they done?
The difference between what her eyes saw and what she felt was too confusing. Lareet clamped all her lids down over her eyes and began inching backward until she felt she was on level ground again.
She opened her eyes and stood up carefully. Umat wrapped an arm around her shoulder.
“What happened?” Umat asked the Dayisen Avit over her head.
“We think they've turned off the gravity in this section,” said Dayisen Wital. “The generators are in a honeycomb structure, so if they turn off one generator, you are pulled toward the next nearest generator. The result is, whatever it may look like, is you are standing on a wall, because the pull of gravity is to one side of you rather than directly underneath you.”
Lareet stood up and flattened her ears against her scalp. “We are heard out here,” she murmured. “Have a care.”
“It gets more complicated.” Dayisen Huir dropped her voice to a bare whisper. She looked toward the bending trees and flattened her ears. “Dayisen Lareet felt like she was climbing up a wall because the nearest generator was behind her. Somewhere outside the dome, the gravity, or lack of it, will be exactly balanced. Essentially, there won't be any. Anything not fastened down at this balance point will float away.
“As you cross past that balance point, the nearest gravity generator will be in front of you. You won't be climbing up the wall anymore, you'll be climbing down it.”
“I see,” breathed Umat as she dipped her ears solemnly.
“Well, Sisters, with all this talk of walls in our way, I can see only one thing to do.”
“What is that?” asked Dayisen Wital.
Umat bared her teeth. “Build ladders.”
R
esaime coughed again, a dry raspy noise deep in her chest. Her breathing had degenerated into shallow wheezes. She huddled in the corner as far as she could get from Lynn and Arron and their grey, flaking clean-suits.
They'd all agreed an hour ago they had to get out of there. Lynn and Arron had taken up posts beside the door, waiting for their guard to come back. Lynn had taken her gloves off and dropped them in the bucket.
They'd held on as long as they could. Arron and Lynn had stayed in the corner by the right-hand side of the door, trying to keep movement to a minimum. Resaime was suffering from not being touched, but Lynn didn't dare lay a hand on her. Her suit was almost opaque with accumulated dander, and the age lines were broadening into hairline cracks. Arron's was even worse.
Lynn had not taken off her helmet to change or check her bandage. She tried not to worry about how the pain had turned fiery. They had let their relief bags fill to overflowing before they emptied them down the drain, rinsing it out with some of their water. They had stayed in their corner of the room, moving only when their muscles cramped up. It wasn't enough, of course. Nature was going to win and soon.
They'd been fed twice in what Arron estimated was twenty hours. A tray holding bowls of lentil mush and plastic bottles of water had been shoved through the slot in the door. They'd shouted through the slot. They'd pounded on the door and screamed themselves hoarse. No answer came. No sound at all. Twice the door had opened and a silent soldier with an ovrth's black bands on her uniform cuffs and a filter mask over her mouth and nostrils came in to stare at them all. Lynn had been startled by the fact that she was alone, until Arron pointed out she was walking into a poison chamber. The ovrth answered no questions, responded to no threats or pleas.
Lynn and Arron agreed that she must be looking to see if Resaime had died yet.
They wouldn't have to go through with it, Lynn tried to tell herself. Keale would find them before the ovrth came in again. Praeis would be called. They'd get Resaime to a hospital. They could bring down one of the doctors from the
Ur.
David.
Lynn's heart sank.
Where are you? Do you know what's happened? Or didn't they tell you? Are they keeping this secret so not to spread panic?
Keale's going to open the door any second. We're not going to have to go through with this.
The bolt shot back. Lynn froze. The door swung open, and she saw the ovrth's hand and arm.
The ovrth stepped into the cell. Her gaze swept across her prisoners. Resaime coughed so hard she gagged deep in her throat. The ovrth gazed down at her dispassionately.
“You're killing her!” Arron shouted at their jailer. He stormed over to the ovrth. Nothing new there. Nothing to disturb anybody. They'd done so much shouting and storming.
“Look at her!” Arron grabbed the ovrth's breath mask and yanked. She swung at him.
Lynn half dived, half fell forward. Her hands slapped down on the ovrth's shoulders. She hung on while Arron dug his fingers into the mask and pulled it down. The ovrth snatched for Arron's wrists, and Lynn slapped her naked hands over the ovrth's nose and mouth.
The ovrth screamed into Lynn's hands. She felt the ovrth's teeth slide against her palms. The ovrth grabbed Lynn's arms and heaved. The room spun and the floor slammed against Lynn's back, knocking all the breath out of her. The door banged shut. Lynn rolled over. Arron crouched between the ovrth and the door. Resaime, temporarily forgotten, crawled forward. The ovrth brought her gun to her shoulder. Lynn struggled to her feet.
Resaime grabbed the ovrth's ankle and bit down hard on her calf. The ovrth screamed again and her gun swung down. Lynn launched herself forward. She clapped one filthy hand over the ovrth's nostrils and grabbed the back of her skull with the other, trapping the ovrth's face between her hands. Arron lunged for the gun.