MIRA

 

We have contact from a humanesque on Araldis.

Insignia’s thought woke Mira from a light doze. She lay on the bed with Nova cradled in her arms, and Wanton just a short reach from them both. ‘Which ‘esque?’ she asked, sitting up carefully so as not to disturb Nova. Then she saw that her child was awake, head rolled towards the Extro.

Nova?

Wanton is dying, Mama.

Si, Nova. Do you understand what that means?

Nova’s head rolled back, and the tiny face stared at her, the blue-grey eyes serious. For Wanton it could mean many things. More an extended limbo than death as we know it.

Mira floundered to find a way to respond. Nova’s escalating mental maturity scared her. And how did she know that the Extro was dying?

I’ve spoken with it.

Y-you ‘ve spoken to Wanton? But it wouldn’t respond when I tried.

Wanton apologises. It must conserve energy.

But how—

A different way that does not involve base-level cognition. It has reconsidered, and would like to tell you that the substance it needs to repair itself is quixite.

Quixite? Why wouldn’t it tell me before?

It didn’t want to interfere with your decisions. It thought that you might endanger yourself finding a source. As you have chosen to come to a place where there is a source, Wanton has reconsidered its position.

Oh. Mira thought for moment. That is very selfless of Wanton.

Wanton has much respect for you, Mama. It says that you were caring when its own kind were not. It wishes you peace.

Caring? Mira was surprised to see that even among the Post-Species compassion had its place. But had it been true kindness on her part, or had she simply manipulated the situation so that she could escape? She hardly knew what drove her now, only what she must do—find Vito and the korm, and whoever else had survived.

Mira, you are required to respond to the shortcast. They have threatened aggression if you do not. Insignia’s interjection held a tinge of frustration. The biozoon was not privy to her conversation with Nova.

I’m coming.

She took Nova to the buccal with her, and sank into Primo with her baby resting on her chest. It felt reassuring to have Nova’s heartbeat so close to her own.

Open the ‘cast, she told Insignia. ‘Who is this?’ she asked in her stiffest manner.

‘That’s my question,’ said a rough flat voice.

Mira recognised the tone despite the time that had passed since she’d heard it. When the carabinere had chased her under Franco’s orders, she had taken refuge on a hybrid biozoon named Sal. The captain, Jancz, had found and threatened to kill her. In the end he

left her in Loisa with an agreement that she would forget their meeting. But she had not. ‘What role have you taken in the destruction of my world, Captain Jancz?’

‘Who are you?’ His voice hoarsened. ‘Tell me, or I’ll have one of those carriers you’re busy dancing around up there trash yer arse. Only reason yer still here is cos you’re in a ‘zoon.’

‘My name is Mira Fedor. Baronessa Mira Fedor.’

The ‘cast fell silent as Jancz grappled to place her name. He might not remember her at all, but his moud would. She tried to picture his face, but could only produce a vague image of a thin angular countenance, elongated limbs and unkempt, almost colourless hair.

‘So, Baronessa,’ he replied eventually. ‘What brings you straight into the jaws of the enemy in the middle of a war?’

‘I’m carrying an ailing Post-Species who requires assistance.’

‘Post-Species, you say. What d’ya mean?’

‘I mean one of the Host varieties, whose Host has perished. Its protective casing has been damaged. I believe the material it needs to regenerate is found on Araldis.’

‘You don’t say?’

Jancz’s trite responses irritated her. ‘I do, Captain Jancz. Or I would have kept quiet.’

‘The Extros are taking over OLOSS. Won’t be a planet left that doesn’t answer to them.’

‘It seems you chose the right side.’ She kept her voice cool despite her rising agitation.

‘You know your people are dead. All of them,’ he added.

Acid rushed up into her gullet. She tasted its sourness and felt the burn.

Mama, the voice is trying to hurt you with its words. Nova’s simple thought calmed her.

Si, Nova. This humanesque is cruel.

Are most like him?

Mira hesitated. Some. You remember Thales?

From my birthing place. Si.

He is not like that.

I’m glad.

‘I’m here for the sake of the Post-Species. Will you help it?’ she said into the comm.

This time it was Jancz who hesitated. ‘Stand by.’

Mira waited, stroking Nova’s back. What is the status of the Geni-carriers? she asked Insignia.

These are only a small portion of the ones we saw leave their system. The rest have been deployed.

Then he is not bluffing. Is there news of the OLOSS worlds?

No. The silence is most unnerving.

Unnerving? How unlike Insignia to use such an evocative word. The biozoon was largely pragmatic, and fatalistic. Are the Pod safe?

My link is very faint. But it is there.

Mira felt relieved. The notion of the Pod seemed almost as much ‘home’ to her as the world they now orbited.

‘You are permitted onto Araldis,’ said Jancz without preamble. ‘We’ll shortcast landing coordinates. Don’t deviate from them, Baronessa—I’ll be trackin’ you.’

The ‘cast terminated, and Mira indicated to Primo that she wished to sit upright. The membrane moulded around her to bring her to a sitting position. She slid Nova down onto her knee.

The baby stared up at her. Will it be safe where we are going, Mama?

Mira sighed. You are too young to concern yourself with risk and safety, Nova. That is my job.

Nova kicked her little arms and legs in what appeared to be a mild protest. I grew inside your womb. I understand danger.

Did you... was there... a moment at which you gained clear thought? She tried to ask the question that had been burning her mind as delicately as possible.

Si. I’m not sure how to explain it. Tasy-al was there. From the beginning. I could feel Tasy-al around me, around us. It was nice. Warm. Then it became difficult. You needed me, and I could no longer sleep and dream. Nova’s thoughts were a little muddled.

When was that, little one?

On the Hub world.

Mira let out a breath. The Post-Species had altered her child, she was sure. You helped me? She repeated the thought despite already knowing it to be true. Through the Hub wall and into the Bare World, and then again, when I would have fallen into the flood.

It’s all right, Mama. I will need you, too. Perhaps soon.

Nova?

What must be.

I don’t understand.

I’m hungry now.

Mira sighed and put Nova to her breast.

I have the coordinates, Mira, Insignia said.

She leaned back more deeply into the Primo membrane. As the sensors reclaimed her skin, so an image of Araldis blossomed in her mind.

The image skewed, grew, shrank, then grew again. When the focus defined, she saw an enormous cylindrical object, mesurs wide, resting on the desert rock, its surface pitted from space travel. Hundreds—thousands—of Saqr crawled over it, their maws bent to the skin of the craft, as if either tending or feeding from it.

An AiV and numerous terrain vehicles were parked in a cluster near one edge, close to a wide opening in the ground. As she watched, a barge, like the one they had fled Ipo in, ground its way out of the mouth of the mine cut and along the rocky road towards the large craft.

I know this place.

Your familia called it the Juanita mine, said Insignia.

But what is that object covered with Saqr?

Nova paused in her suckling, her face upturned. Wanton believes it to be Medium.

You can speak with Wanton from a-a distance?

As I can with you, Mama. Wanton ‘s energies are low, but it has listened to my description and recognises the craft.

Has... has Wanton told you what it is?

It’s a carrier of what he calls n-non-c-corpo-real Post-Species. Unlike his own Host family. Nova stumbled over Non-Corporeal, having several tries at expressing the concept. Her difficulty was a small salve to Mira’s anxiety. Perhaps there was yet some real child in the tiny body.

Does Wanton know what they are doing here? Mira asked.

Wanton says they need the same thing as him. A certain mineral.

‘Quixite.’ Mira said the word aloud. All the pieces of information she’d gathered since leaving Araldis began to arrange in a pattern. ‘They destroyed my world for it. But why Araldis? There are other places in Orion where quixite can be found.’

Not like this, Insignia reminded her. The alloy doesn’t normally occur naturally; it has to be manufactured. I have a little of it in my substructure. It helps me configure my body to accommodate my symbiote, and handle res-shift.

You’ve never told me that before.

It is very expensive. The Pod has had an agreement with a Post-Species supplier for many, many years.

Is that why you are permitted to trade with them when no other OLOSS members are?

Yes. That is part of it.

I don’t understand. If the Post-Species can manufacture it, why would they need this supply?

Naturally occurring quixite has been proven to have certain properties that the manufactured material does not. I imagine the Post-Species have a need.

Nova, could you ask Wanton if it has any knowledge of this.

Insignia and Mira waited while Nova conferred with the injured Extro.

Wanton is unsure. It wonders if maybe it is to do with longevity, in the way your innate genetics offered better Host a-amal-g-am.

Nova stumbled over amalgam, as she had Non-Corporeal.

Thank Wanton for me, Nova. Tell it that I will do everything I can to secure what it needs.

Wanton knows that already, Nova thought to her gravely. And then, in a way that Mira knew was only for her, she added, But you must be quick, Mama.

Mira leaned back fully into Primo and let it subsume her.

Insignia, she thought. Hurry.