Chapter 12

Noah

In the clicking language we shared with the Masters, there was no word for “Welcome.” Instead, as Gil and I filed past the waiting Ferals and Masters at the new Hive, the closest Digger clicked out, “Eat here.” It was as close as they got.

The feral humans took us inside the Hive, into the large, central chamber dotted with holes to let in the light and air. The few Masters crowded around us, waving their feelers at us. I counted around forty of the Ferals, mostly males. There were a couple of females with babies, and a few small children, and I stared at them. Why were they running free with the worker males? And where were the rest of the Masters that protected this Hive?

Gil looked as mystified as I felt. The Ferals sat us down in front of the old male, untying the ropes that held us. I rubbed my arms where the ropes had cut into my skin, working the circulation back. They handed me water, which I slurped greedily, and more of the tasteless food.

“I’m sorry, boys, but we have to keep you confined for a while,” the male said. “We’ve rescued people before, and it takes a long time before whatever brainwashing those bugs do to you wears off.”

A Feral female spoke up. “It’s some kind of pheromone thing. Earth bugs used them to communicate, and to bond members of a Hive together. I’m sure whatever it is has some kind of effect on humans.”

So many words I didn’t recognize. Earth? Humans? I looked at Gil, who shrugged, chewing his bland meal.

The male looked at the other Ferals that had brought us here. “Where’s Paul?”

A shake of the head from one of our captors. “He was scouting right before the pollen storm. Watching these boys.” He glared at me and Gil. “Got too close and the ‘Mites got him.”

I remembered his eyes as they dragged him across the beach. I remembered his face as he lay in a pool of dark water, belly covered in eggs.

The old male’s eyes dropped, his posture sagging. “Paul was a good man. A very good man. Find your star, Paul.” He paused and ran a hand over his face. “But we all knew the risks.” He turned to me. “It will be worth it as long as we have her. It’s this one, right?”

One of my captors nodded. “That’s what the bug said. There were three boys, but we lost one on the way.”

The old one’s shoulders slumped even further and he looked at me and Gil. “I’m so sorry. We weren’t fast enough. What was his name?”

“Jerome,” I answered. “His name was Jerome.”

The old one looked up toward the ceiling. “Find your star, Jerome.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “All right. Let’s get them down to the pool.” He turned to one of the Masters. “Are we ready down there?”

A click from the Master Digger. It rushed up behind me and grabbed my arms, lifting me up. I struggled and screamed as it carried me away from the bright chamber, down into the depths of the Hive. Scuttling noises behind me indicated that Gil had been similarly abducted.

Even as I fought, I was aware of my surroundings. The corridors were dirty, dry and empty. Despite the obvious inhabitants above, the Hive felt dead. It smelled dead. I gave up struggling as the last of my strength left me lolling in the arms of the Master. Down and down it carried me. Footsteps of the Ferals echoed behind us.

We passed through dry, crumbling chambers until we reached one that made my blood chill. Shallow pools were filled with water. Three of the gray water beasts lay still on the edges.

Oh, no. Not again.

The Master set me down and I waited for the sting, squinting my eyes against the expected pain.

The old male Feral approached me and reached for my tunic. “I’m Mo, by the way. Mo Ciel. What’s your name, son?”

“Noah,” I replied, backing away from him. Could I run? Where? The Masters blocked both doorways to this dank chamber.

He nodded. “Well Noah, let’s have a look at her.” He gestured to the water beasts in the pool. “They’re ready.”

My back reached the wall and Ferals grabbed my arms from each side.

“Let’s get those nasty things off you . . .“ The old male’s voice trailed off as he lifted my tunic. Underneath, red welts dotted my belly in perfect circles. His eyes burned into mine. “Where is she? What have you done with her?”

I sputtered.

He reached for Gil’s tunic, lifting it to reveal the larvae on his skin.

“Get these off and onto the seals. Hurry up before they suck them dry.”

Ferals used their fingers as I had done, unsticking the sucking mouths of the larvae from Gil. They carried the larvae over to the still water beasts and set them on the gray skin. Each larva sucked onto one of the beasts in the water.

I stared until all the larvae had been removed from Gil’s stomach. The Masters crowded around the water beasts, caressing the larvae with their soft feelers. They looked up and clicked a word.

“No.”

They approached me and Mo pulled up my tunic again. The Masters’ feelers tickled the red welts, probing all around until they settled on the largest red ring, the one in the center.

“Here.”

The word was clicked with great sadness, and the Ferals looked at each other.

Mo lowered my tunic. “What have you done with her?”

I shook my head. It was all too much for me.

“What have you done?” he repeated. “Where are the larvae that left these wounds?”

“I pulled them off,” I stammered. “Back at the Hive. Washed them off.” My teeth were starting to chatter.

Gil slumped to the floor and the Ferals caught him. The old one called Mo sighed. “We’ve failed. It’s all for nothing.”

The young female that had met us outside snorted. “It was a crazy idea. Would never have worked anyway.”

“It could have,” Mo said. “We’ve shown we can work together.” He nodded at the Masters that still hovered around me.

The female shook her head. “They’re outcasts. Nobodies, like us. Look, Dad, we’ll be okay. We’ll just have to find another way.” She turned toward Gil, who leaned against the males holding him up. “Right now we need to get some food in these slaves.”

Mo turned away from me, shoulders sagging. “You’re right, Kinni. Let’s get these boys upstairs. They don’t need to see this anymore.” He swung an arm around the female’s shoulder—his offspring? “But you’re wrong about them.” He turned back toward me and Gil.

“They’re not slaves anymore.”