Syn-En: Registration (13 page)

“Is this true?” Zahar rose to her knees.

“Yes. We don’t have much, but we share what we have, including medicine.” Medicine! Nell snapped her fingers. She had a first-aid kit in her stuff. “I might be able to help.”

Elvis stood and sniffed the ground. He sneezed and shook his head. “Pet carried your supplies.”

And she hadn’t seen them since. No doubt, the jerk was planning to use them as bait to lure Zahar into his bed. Nell set her hand on the mantis’s upper arm. The skin was hard, but warm under her palm. “Where is Pet?”

“Selecting the wine.” Ck’dow tilted her triangular face and set one hand over Nell’s. Her bubble eyes blinked. “But he has been gone quite a long time.”

“Show me. Please.”

“As you wish.” Ck’dow shuffled backward and waved an arm at the open French doors leading inside the ambassador’s mansion.

Nell took a step forward. Pausing, she addressed the siblings. “When I come back, I would like you to take me to your brother. I may be able to help him until the doctors arrive.”

“Thank you. Thank you.”

Nell avoided their outstretched arms and crossed the balcony. “And tell everyone else. You won’t have to barter with your bodies to get help.”

Ck’dow’s legs tapped on the stone as she walked. “Pet will be most displeased to have his system altered. He desired Zahar above all else.”

“Happy to oblige.” Despots and tyrants always wanted what they couldn’t have. And Pet was shaping up to be a real hum dinger. She didn’t like his kind, even if he hadn’t ordered her to be killed.

Elvis trotted at Nell’s side. “Do you remember much of your first aid training?”

“Enough.” She hoped. Maybe a little more. “But I’d feel a lot more secure if I was connected to the mainframe.”

“I believe Pet knows where the mainframe is.” Ck’dow waited by the door.

Pet again. Nell entered the ambassador’s house with Elvis at her side. The rectangular room held no furniture, rugs or books. Frescoes of hunting scenes decorated the wall. A blue and green mosaic surrounded the beehive fireplace in the corner. Every wall, corner and surface gleamed. “There’s not even a speck of dust.”

Ck’dow’s pencil-thin mustache curled at the ends. “The Padgows take great pride in keeping house. Even the empty ones.”

Figures the little mopheads would make great dusters. Nell slid the carved wooden door into its pocket slot. Two spotlights illuminated the long hallway. Doors dotted the corridor at even intervals. She waited in the darkness. Why should she even attempt to lead? She didn’t know where she was going. “What did the Ck’son do for the Skaperians?”

“Horticulture and farming.” Entering the hall, Ck’dow brushed against Nell and headed toward the right. “Land farming. The Shish are the underwater specialists. Although even their plants need light.”

Nell glanced up. Painted ferns adorned the plaster ceiling.  And above that, sand dunes sowed bursts of light across the force field. The dead trees in the forest where Nell and Elvis had landed indicated that those small stars didn’t provide enough light. “Is there a way to brush off the sand from the shielded dome?”

“Not without revealing ourselves.” Ck’dow rested the pointed tip of her arm on the door knob. “All the other embassies use our kind as labor and would gladly force us into service on their behalf. We prefer liberty among the decay, than servitude surrounded by luxury.”

Even though it was slowly killing them.

“Many from Earth would agree with you.” Nell stepped inside the basement. A musty smell wafted from the darkness.

“Lights?” Elvis pressed against her leg, holding her back.

She held onto the scruff of his neck. It was nice to have someone who could see in the dark. “Are you fully self-contained?”

“Pet visits the other embassies to trade for what we cannot grow or reuse.” Ck’daw waved her arm and a switch clicked on.

Lights mushroomed in the darkness, highlighting a staircase spiraling downward. Water stained the stone walls and floors. Black fungus grew in fuzzy patches at the edges.

“Interacting with other people must be dangerous. Aren’t you afraid of being discovered? Being enslaved again?” Still holding the Amarook, Nell slowly descended.

“Pet has the livery of many embassies and has forged papers to go with it.” Instead of taking the stairs, Ck’dow slid down the stone bannister. She landed lightly on her feet at the bottom. “Once, Pet was followed by Scraptors. But they stopped not too far from their assigned embassy. Most fear to come close, believing the Surlat strain still lives here.”

At least something good had come from that stupid virus. Nell jumped the last few steps. A large metal door was tucked under the staircase.

Ck’dow slid open the door. Bright lights illuminated row upon row of empty racks. “Obviously, Pet doesn’t have a problem finding items for the things
he
wants.”

The mantis swept one hand over the eight-foot high cases. “I hadn’t realized he’d drunk so many bottles. It is a good thing Humans are claiming sentience. If the Skaperians knew he had pilfered from their prized cellar, Pet would die a most unpleasant death.”

Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy. The pungent aroma of vinegar enveloped Nell when she entered the cellar.

Football fields of racks extended on either side of the entrance. The dozen or so near the front stood empty, but the rest were full. And more crates created pillars in the aisle. Looked like Pet was safe. And that it would take a while to find him. “What can you tell me about the registration process?”

Elvis sniffed the ground, then sneezed. His eyes looked a little glassy. “I believe I’ll stick with you.”

Ck’dow turned right again and waded into the cellar. “The process is quite simple. The race presents itself at the Erwar Consortium. They swear their home world is habitable, claim any companions, and set forth to build their embassy within thirty axis spins.”

“Roughly twenty-eight Earth days.” Elvis’s ears slapped his head when he shook it.

Nell sent him a bundle of concern and flashed a picture of the landing at the bottom of the stairs.

“I’ll be fine.” He sneezed again. “No Amarook has sampled Skaperian wine for a hundred years. It is quite heady stuff.” 

“Let’s hope you don’t get a hangover from the fumes.” She didn’t want to clean up his vomit; she knew what he’d eaten. Slowing, she kept pace with Elvis. “So all we have to do is show up, say our home is good, claim our friends, and build an embassy on the planet, right?”

“Yes.” Ck’dow nodded.

“If registering is so simple, why haven’t more species done it?”

Ck’dow paused by the second to last row. Her mustache curled and uncurled. “Sounds simple, yes, but it is not. Habitable planets are rare, and once discovered, the life on the world becomes the dominion of the discoverers. Skaperians found your world and you. Humans are far more versatile and made them a tidy profit on the open market. Your kind labor almost everywhere in the galaxy.”

Nell tensed. “Can someone claim us if the Skaperians are out of the way?”

“It has been nearly one hundred years after the last recorded Skaperian checked in. If you had not arrived when you did, the Founding Five would have invaded your world. Nothing overt, you understand. Their favorite means is to cause wars that set civilizations back hundreds of cycles.”

Great. It was nice to be wanted. Not! “How is a species ever to set themselves free, if their evil overlords won’t let them?” 

Elvis rubbed Nell’s back.

Ck’dow resumed her walk. “The Erwar Consortium is supposed to prevent interference with the natural development of a species, but the Founding Five are lax in enforcing the code.”

“And I bet they’re the richest of the bunch.” Where’s the incentive to change the system when you benefit the most? Nell rubbed the tight knots in her neck.

Humanity will be free.

She had to make it so. “How much time do we have?”

“Ten axis spins.” Ck’dow paused by another door.

It had better not lead to another wine cellar.

The mantis opened the door and cool air rushed out of the room. “Ah, I knew if he was not imbibing, he must be checking the mainframe.”

Nell’s heart dropped to her knees.

Pet sat in the center of the room, surrounded by motherboards, colored crystals, and glittering screws. The banks of computers gaped like empty boxes amid sprays of wires. His eyes widened when he saw them. “I’m sorry. I—I thought I could make contact with your people, have them all here for the celebration, but I seem to have made things worse.”

“Worse?” Nell slapped her hand over her mouth. How could it be worse? There were no power lights blazing on any computer.

Biting his lip, Pet raised a circuit board. The thing snapped in half before he lifted it a foot off the floor. “I think I broke it.”

Chapter 14

Bei perched on a rock in the corner of the Deutche clan’s cave. Grease formed a skin on his half-eaten bowl of soup. His stomach tightened and his gut clenched. The fare did not sit well with him. He hoped the ladies cleared out of the facilities before the food washed out what little remained of his insides.

In the center of the cave, an old man tossed rounds of bread dough onto a hot skillet. Children crowded around him, oohed and ahhed when each piece was added. He bent low and whispered to Ruth. Her pigtails slapped her back when she nodded. A jerk of his hand flipped the rounds through the air and he expertly caught them in the pan.

The kids clapped.

A young, bare-chested man picked up a stack of cooked bread and passed it around to the freshly cleaned miners. The few people who hadn’t worked a shift hauling ore scrubbed dirty clothes in the tub behind the half wall and strung them on the lines lacing the stone and mud houses together.

Men and women smiled and laughed.

Bei didn’t think their good mood was solely attributed to the bread. Perhaps he shouldn’t have told Job about the Syn-En, Earth, and Humanity’s registration.

But then he’d be sleeping without a clan tonight and would have to devise a new plan to visit the pleasure quarters, to reactivate his communications officer. He needed Keyes for phase two of his escape plan, needed her talent with language so Bug-ugly and his stinky friend wouldn’t detect his presence in their software. 

Not until he wanted them to.

Shaking water from his beard, Job sauntered over. He stared at Bei’s bowl before sitting on the boulder beside him. “Not hungry?”

“I don’t require much of this kind of energy.” Bei offered the man the bowl. “Perhaps you could give this to your daughter. For the child.”

Job balanced the dish in his lap but his attention focused on Bei’s torso. “How much is…” He opened and closed his hands.

“Enhanced?”

“Yeah.”

“Most, but the important parts are still biologic.”

Job’s gaze dropped to Bei’s crotch before he relaxed. “Since you are determined to visit the pleasure rooms, I figured that was not changed, but…”

Bei didn’t bother to correct the leader’s assumptions. At least, those who had seen his enhancements at work hadn’t shunned him. Perhaps Nell was right. Perhaps the fear and hatred were learned human behaviors, not natural.

Job swirled the chunks of vegetables around the greasy broth. “How long do you think until this…” He gestured to the shanties filling the cavern. “This is over?”

“My ships are due to reach Erwar’s air space in two weeks.”
If
they weren’t intercepted by ETs. Would the Scraptors and Municians be looking for more Earth ships, now that they’d found his vessel? Bei certainly would.

Dammit. He needed his communications officer to send a warning. Tomorrow. He’d get her tomorrow. He released a dose of serotonin. His body relaxed.

Setting the bowl on the boulder between them, Job rested his wrists on his knees. “I’m worried about what will happen to us once it’s discovered you’re gone.”

Bei slanted a glance at the leader. He didn’t have to know everything, but Bei could confer with him on
some
things. Living in these mines gave Job important information, information potentially missing from the mining operation’s mainframe. Especially as the engineer’s database remained two weeks out of date. Besides, Nell constantly reminded him that humans had a vested interest in the outcome.

Nell… His heart slammed against titanium-plated sternum.

Admiral, I believe we should review the attack of the Icarus again.

Later.
He muted his cerebral interface. He’d look at the video later. Right now, he knew enough. Nell was gone, and he hadn’t done a damn thing to stop it. But he could prevent ET from achieving their objectives.

Humanity would register.

He’d paid too high a price to fail. His attention slanted to Job. “I have a program in place to reset the mining quota
after
we visit the pleasure rooms. You’ll only be required to produce seven tons a shift.”

Ruth wouldn’t get her bread again until she was free. Then he’d make sure she had loaves of the stuff.

For a moment, Job chewed on the edges of his mustache. “I appreciate that. But how do you plan to leave the mine?”

Bei smiled. He could use this evening’s tantrum to good effect. “I’m going to pick a fight with your Scraptor guards.” He could take a few hits from their energy weapons and recharge his batteries all in one to four shots. “Would your clan be able to officially renounce me without any repercussions?”

He didn’t want them punished for his actions.

Ruth and a boy about her age tossed rocks into a circle of boulders on the ground. When she pitched a black one inside, another shot out. Smiling, she raised her hands in triumph and performed a crude jig. The boy nudged her and challenged her to another game.

Job straightened. “Attacking the guards would do it, but we’ll have to pretend to hold you back for a bit. If you hit me first, then go after the Scraptors they won’t retaliate against the clan. But we’ll be at half rations for the day.”

The hell they would. “I can fix that.”

“Thought so. But they’ll hunt you for days. We won’t be able to work. No one eats if they don’t work.”