Migration: Species Imperative #2 Read online

  Green drops dissolving flesh. Mouths that drank . . .

  Mac shuddered. She had sufficient nightmares—she didn’t need them in broad daylight, too. “Keep to the shoreline,” she told her pupils. No need to shout; sound carried admirably over the calm water. Fourteen lifted his paddle in acknowledgment and almost tipped their canoe. Mac winced, but they righted again. “And watch for logs and rocks,” she advised.

  She’d given them the novice craft, glad to have found it under the porch instead of borrowed yet again. It looked like hers, though a bit larger and heavier, being cream-colored with mem-wood seats and gunnels. Novice craft, however, had certain additional features. There was a keel that expanded downward if a strong broadside wind was detected, giving more control. If they struck anything, the canoe’s bow would absorb the impact and, if they tipped too far to one side suddenly, the canoe would release a stabilizer bar to recover itself. Not that she’d told them. Russell’s canoes were like hers, the classic dance-with-me-or-swim type. Kay and Fourteen might as well start thinking that way.

  So far, the two were doing fine. As they entered the next and wider cove, Mac let her mind drift again. Alien wilderness. Until now, she’d focused on learning about various aliens and their cultures. There had to be so much more. There had to be worlds different from the Dhryn’s, worlds like this one, with life everywhere you looked. She rested her paddle on her lap and gazed over the side of her canoe. Streams of tiny light-touched bubbles rose from the silt as bacteria digested debris. A twisted thumb-wide furrow led to a mollusk where it sat, pretending to be a rock. Fish fry—barely more than eyeballs and tail—skittered through the bubbles; their shadows flying over the shell.

  What would she find in a lake on another world, under another sun? Mac shivered, not because she was still cold, but with the sheer delight of it.

  Mac dipped her paddle again, shattering the view. The Dhryn. They were the puzzle. How could such beings even exist? She could comprehend, if not envy, those who lived apart from other living things. The Dhryn she’d met had fed themselves with cultivated fungi, simple organisms refined into an industrial process. There were Human colonies on inhospitable worlds who lived much the same way.

  For that matter, she knew a few individuals on Earth who managed to live as though they were the only life on the planet.

  “But we didn’t start that way, Em,” Mac whispered. “We can’t survive that way. Not without technology to replace all this—” She gazed over the lake, up at the sky with its fading wisps of gray clouds, down again to the tree-fringed shore.

  The IU had sent archaeologists to the Dhryn home world. Good as far as it went, but Mac had urged them to send those who would look much farther back, to when the first Dhryn had floated toward its prey. “There’s an answer, Em.” She nodded to herself, once, firmly. “There’s a way being a Dhryn, how they live, all of it, makes sense.”

  Not that she had the faintest notion what that could be.

  “Yet,” Mac promised herself.

  While distracted, she’d temporarily lost sight of her charges. Like all beginners, they’d learned to pick up speed before developing skill at maneuvering. Unworried, Mac sent her canoe around the next point, only to frown. No luck. She was about to activate the finder beacon—another handy aspect of a novice-level canoe—when she spotted a familiar brown and orange well past the next island, bobbing in the now-choppy water of the middle of the lake.

  More speed, but less sense of direction.

  Mac shook her head and paddled after them.

  “Kay complains the world continues to move up and down, side to side. Along with his douscent.”

  “His what?”

  Fourteen pursed his generous lips in thought, then gave a nod. “His pouch-storage-assimilation organ.”

  Mac didn’t know how well Fourteen could read Human expressions. To be on the safe side, she arranged her face into something sympathetic. “Sounds as though he’s seasick—a sensory conflict due to the motion of the canoe over the waves. If that’s it, Kay should be better shortly.” A Human would be, anyway.

  Her compassion was wasted. “Irrelevant. He’s a coward,” Fourteen declared, “even for a Trisulian. Afraid of being hungry. Afraid of high places. Afraid of moving water.”

  Why the little . . . “You took him out there on purpose,” Mac accused.

  A sly tilt of his head. Not quite a yes. Not quite a no.

  “Flat water is boring. Waves are fun.” Fourteen settled deeper into the couch, stretching his arms along the back. His expression could only be called smug. “Kay ate too much Human food this morning and refused to take medication before our paddling. He has only himself to blame. Idiot.”

  Mac hoped this meant the Trisulian would be able to manage rough water during their trip with Russell. Otherwise, it was going to be a very long and unpleasant five days for all concerned. Except perhaps for Fourteen, apparently vastly entertained by his companion’s discomfort.

  At least she had her chance to talk to one of the aliens alone. She would have preferred Kay, simply because he had better manners. And there was that smell. Mac was reasonably certain it came from Fourteen when he was agitated. So don’t get him upset, she warned herself, resigned to whatever happened.

  Mac draped a leg over one of the fat arms of her chair and made herself comfortable. It wasn’t easy, when she felt anything but relaxed. “While we wait for Kay’s douscent to recover its equilibrium, Fourteen,” she said casually, trailing her fingers along a line of mending in the fabric of the other chair arm, “mind if I ask you a few questions?”

  “You may ask, but there will be none of this—” Fourteen thrust his pelvis up from the couch with great vigor. Three times. It was quite a display, given the oversized paisley shorts. “Impossible. I don’t have external genitalia,” he explained.

  Emily, Mac knew, would be convulsing with laughter. She, on the other hand, could feel her face flame with embarrassment. “I didn’t—”

  “I’m well aware of the Human preoccupation with copulation with aliens, Mac. Do not seek to deceive me. There was a brochure.”

  “A brochure,” she echoed.

  “At the consulate. It strongly recommended informing any Human making advances that I state an appreciation of the implied compliment but explain I am physically unable to participate and would prefer to be left alone.” Fourteen paused. “I didn’t waste time with the appreciation part. I don’t feel complimented by your lust.”

  Mac blinked. “My lust.”

  Fourteen threw up his arms in what appeared to be exasperation, then clambered to his feet. “If you are so desperate for the act, I believe Trisulians have some capability. We will go to Kay and obtain his service for you.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Mac assured him. “I—I’ve taken a drug to subdue my carnal urges,” she said matter-of-factly. “Being here alone?” Mac gave a theatrical shudder. “It would be so very—difficult—otherwise. I’m sure you understand. It must have been in the brochure.”

  It was his turn to blink at her.

  Fourteen’s mouth suddenly stretched in a huge grin, revealing that his teeth consisted solely of four squared incisors on top and a chitinous ridge along the bottom, with that disturbing white tongue lashing between. His inset eyes opened as much as they could as he gave a harsh barking sound Mac had no trouble translating at all.

  When Fourteen finally stopped laughing, he claimed: “I had you! I had you!”

  As if she’d admit that. Mac raised one eyebrow. “Not for a millisecond.”

  The alien pointed to the door to the west bedrooms. “We can try it on Kay. C’mon. C’mon.” He was bouncing on the couch, his splay-toed bare feet slapping the wood flooring.

  “No.” Mac threw her other leg over the chair arm and slouched deeper. “And no. Just how immature are you?”

  “As immature as I want to be,” Fourteen asserted, sounding slightly offended. “I’m on vacation.”

  Mac grinn
ed. “I can’t argue with that. Though I confess I’m wondering why you’ve come all the way here. To Earth, I mean.”

  Fourteen dropped back down on the couch, looking pleased by her question. His knees, Mac noticed, were another almost Human feature. If you ignored those extra lumps on the insides. They sunburned like Human knees, too. He’d come prepared, she’d give him that, slathering an ointment over his reddened skin when they’d arrived back at the cabin. A bright green ointment with what appeared to be flecks of sand in it. Positively alluring, Mac chuckled to herself, with the paisley shorts.

  Fourteen held up his five-fingered hand, folding a digit with each item. “Earth has exotic landscapes . . . varied cultures, hardly touched by those of other species . . . the legendary politeness of Humans . . . a most favorable exchange rate within the IU. And—”

  Fourteen paused, one finger still straight, and looked at her as if trying to read her face.

  “And?” Mac prompted, fascinated by this view of her world. Exotic? Polite?

  Another voice answered—Kay, from where he leaned one shoulder against the doorframe.

  “And Earth has you, Dr. Mackenzie Connor.”

  Without realizing she’d moved, Mac found herself behind her chair, her hands gripping its back for support. Common sense had her eyes flicker to the door to the porch, estimate her chances of getting there first.

  Curiosity held her still.

  “Not on vacation,” she stated.

  “Unfortunately, no.” Fourteen sat up, his posture subtly different. The hand-me-down Human clothes, Mac thought, no longer looked quite so silly. He reached into a pocket of his shorts and brought out an envelope that looked remarkably familiar, except that its blue and green was barred with gold. “The Interspecies Union is hosting a gathering of experts on our common problem, the Dhryn. We wish you to attend, Dr. Connor.”

  “Mac,” she corrected automatically, while such fierce joy burned through every part of her, she had to struggle to keep it contained, to hold her expression to something resembling curious interest.

  At last, a chance for answers.

  “Mac,” the Myg smiled. “Efficient as always. Please excuse our small deception. Mr. Lister will be paid in full, but we never intended to take his trip. We had to come in person. Our invitation was not reaching you through, shall we say, regular channels.”

  Why was she not surprised? The taste was bitter, as was the certainty others would have known about this—and how desperately she’d want to be part of it. “Then how did you find me?” Mac answered her own question: “You’re spies.”

  Kay, weaving slightly, made his way to the opposite chair, sitting with a groan. “We are not spies,” he denied stiffly. He reached for a cushion and pressed it to his abdomen. “Usish. The room keeps moving.”

  “Irrelevant,” Fourteen snapped. “Do not withhold meaningful information. Mac should know how we found her.”

  Did she really want to know? A faint mental alarm went off. Ignoring it, Mac eased around her chair and rested a hip on the arm nearest the door. “It would be a nice gesture of mutual trust,” she suggested. “Something I could use about now.”

  The two looked at one another. Kay’s eyestalks dipped and rose. As if this signaled permission, Fourteen began. “Since your government would not let us contact you directly, nor pass along our invitation, we arranged for an individual in your facility to notify us when you left for your research in the mountains, somewhere we could contact you discretely, privately. We thought we’d lost that opportunity when the quake struck, then you came here. Everything was perfect!”

  “Perfect?” Mac could argue the word choice, considering it encompassed an IU spy among her colleagues and students at Base. Not to mention if these two had walked in on her at the field station, she’d have sent them packing so fast eyestalks would have spun.

  Fourteen offered the envelope. Sure enough, her name crawled across the surface in mauve. Just like last time. Then, it had contained a letter from the Ministry, proclaiming a threat to the species and requesting her help—the sort of request no Human would refuse, or could, without the most severe penalty.

  Mac eyed the latest incarnation, but made no move to touch the thing. Yet. Learned my lesson, Em. No matter how badly she wanted to be part of what was happening, to know, she wasn’t going to jump blind again. “Where is this gathering taking place?” she asked.

  “Irrelevant,” came the reply. “Even if we knew, it would be kept from you until reaching our destination. For security reasons.”

  “Do you object to travel offworld?” This from Kay.

  Mac’s fingers dug into the upholstery, the fabric a little worn and dusty. Worn by Human use. Dusty from the processes of life on this planet. Familiar. Home.

  “No,” she said calmly. “I’ll go wherever I must.” She didn’t bother asking for a guarantee they’d bring her back again. In Fourteen’s terms, it was irrelevant.

  Instead, Mac took the envelope in her hands, feeling its familiar metallic texture between her fingers. She drew a breath, then prepared to rip it in half.

  “What are you doing?” With that cry, Fourteen tried to snatch it back.

  Mac hung on, startled. “I’m opening it.”

  “Violence is not necessary. Apply any body fluid.” Kay then pressed the cushion tighter to his abdomen as if the idea offended his douscent.

  “Ah.” With a doubtful look at each alien, and doing her best to forget the envelope had come out of those paisley shorts, Mac touched the moistened tip of her tongue to one edge.

  It unfolded in her hands like a flower, the envelope itself becoming a flat sheet of multisided mem-paper. Its now-white surface was coated in black text beneath the seal of the IU. But as she adjusted her grip to angle it toward the light from the nearest window, the words winked in and out of meaning, sentences fragmented. The more she tried to make sense of it, the less she could understand. It was Instella, the interspecies’ language. Mac was sure of it. She should be able to read this with a little work.

  Should and could were different things.

  Rather than shout her frustration—and reveal her ongoing issue with print—Mac casually folded the sheet, which reformed into a sealed envelope in her palm. “Fine,” she said. “When do we leave?”

  “As soon as I inform the IU you are ready and willing—”

  “Not so fast,” Kay groaned from his seat, eyestalks tilting in different directions. “Some of us aren’t up to moving vehicles.”

  Fourteen pursed his lips and made a ruder noise than usual. “Idiot. I told you to take your medication. Your discomfort is irrelevant. As soon as I inform the IU, arrangements will be made—including notifying your government, Mac, and the helpful Mr. Lister. Tomorrow would be the earliest for all to be in place. More likely the day after that.” He made an expansive gesture at their surroundings, then bounced where he sat. “But is this not an excellent place to wait? We have Mac. And we have poodle!”

  Kay muttered “Usish” again and turned his eyestalks from the exuberant Myg.

  Mac tucked the envelope from the IU into a pocket, fastening it closed with a press of the mem-fabric. One thing to be swept up in the moment, Em. Another to have time to think things through. She hoped her courage would last two more days.

  She slipped her leg over the arm of the chair and sat down. “What else can you tell me about this gathering?”

  “It is unprecedented—if you are familiar with the politics of the IU . . . ?” Kay let those words trail into a question. Mac shook her head. “Ah.”

  “Idiot,” Fourteen said promptly. Mac wasn’t sure if he meant his companion or her. “All you need to know is that everything about the IU, everything it does, has a shape.” His hands described a series of circles, each larger than its predecessor. “At its center are the oldest species, the ones first to the group. The Sinzi, of course, are at the core. Together, these are the decision-makers. Outside of this lie those species who are well trusted
by the oldest and are wealthy, or wield some other power. These are asked to carry out those decisions and to communicate them to others. Beyond are all those species come recently to the transects, who haven’t proved either economic worth or stability. Informed, but rarely consulted.”

  “This is the political position our two species share with yours, Mac,” Kay broke in. “It would normally remain so, but our systems lie along the Naralax Transect. The IU realizes we must be all included—perhaps even in the innermost councils. This is what is unprecedented.” He sounded more exasperated than grateful. Mac could understand that reaction.

  Fourteen laced his fingers together, as if in prayer. “You see, the Dhryn are not some nebulous threat to us. They wait on our doorsteps, ready to strike either of our worlds next. Indeed, our closest trading partner, the Eelings, recently succumbed.”

  “I’d heard Ascendis was attacked. A Human ship was there—it sent a report.” Before it crashed and everyone died or was consumed by Dhryn, Mac reminded herself, breath catching in her throat. “I don’t have the details. What happened?”

  “The Eeling light has been extinguished forever,” Fourteen’s lips trembled and he put his hands over his eyes.

  “By the Dhryn?” Mac demanded sharply.

  “The Human ship finished the job of destroying Ascendis,” said Kay, his voice growing cold and harsh. “To their credit, many of the—feeders—were caught on the surface. But the planet can no longer support the life it knew.”

  Feeders on the surface . . . Mac shook off the horrific image, focusing on the puzzle. “I was told the Dhryn left the system.”

  “There was no one to stop them.”

  Mac leaned back and stared at the ceiling rafters, seeing something completely different, a world made of flesh. “Dhryn wouldn’t leave without their Progenitor,” she mused out loud. “So she wasn’t on the planet when Captain Wu sent his ship into it. But why?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? They wanted to be able to leave quickly. As they did.”