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Playing God(133)

By:Sarah Zettel


On the bridge, the Ship-Mother stepped quickly forward. “Task-Mother, we're being hailed.” She handed across a pair of binoculars and pointed out the bridge window.

Praeis raised the binocs and focused them. Out in the bay, which was calm and blue and gave no hint of the activity directly underneath its surface, a little silver boat cut through the waves like a knife. A couple of white figures stood on the deck, shining in the bright sun.

And here they come, she thought. Ancestors Mine, what are they going to say about this?

Just then, the speaker crackled with the hail-sister code. An awkward voice speaking with a thick accent she couldn't place from anywhere said, “We are Robin Ford and Ari Chin of Bioverse Incorporated. We are asking permission to approach.”

“They're doing it anyway. Look at that thing move,” muttered the Ship-Mother.

“Answer them, Ship-Mother,” said Praeis. “Let them come up.” As if we could stop them in the shape we're in.

Praeis and Theia went out onto the deck. They were quickly joined by the Ship-Mother. The needlelike boat sped forward as if by magic and came neatly alongside. A pair of third-sisters struggled with a sticky ladder, but got it lowered, eventually. Two Humans, one man and one woman, climbed up.

“We need to talk to Praeis Shin t'Theria,” said the man, breathlessly, to the third-sisters as soon as his boots hit the deck.

“I am Task-Mother Praeis Shin.” Praeis took a half step forward. “This is my daughter Theiareth Shin and Ship-Mother Urae Vania.” She dipped an ear toward Theia, then toward the Ship-Mother. The Humans’ faces were both strained. Whatever was coming next, they were not looking forward to it. “You're in the middle of a combat zone, Human-Sisters, and we must tell you you're in great danger.”

“We know, Task-Mother.” The woman was shorter, rounder, and considerably more brown than her companion. She spoke in fits and starts, probably getting a lot of help from an implant. “But we needed to talk to you immediately. Yesterday, an apparently empty underwater bunker was cracked open, and this morning you had a red tide?”

“Yes?” said Praeis. Red tides weren't unusual in these waters, and it had only been a footnote in the reports. Praeis remembered the empty bunker, though. The arms-sisters had been ordered not to occupy it, in case there was a bioweapon or some other kind of poison in there.

The man's face creased. “That was one of ours,” he said. “It contained a coagulant agent designed to congeal pollutants in water.”

“Congeal?” repeated Theia.

“Yes.” The woman bobbed her head up and down. “So that we could send in jobbers to sweep them up as soon as they clotted.”

A distant ringing started in Praeis's ears. “Could this stuff clog industrial lubricants?”

“Yes,” said the man. “That's what we came to tell you.

We've notified our superiors about what's happened. Lynn Nussbaumer has arranged for a security force to be sent in to keep you safe until we can get you cleaned up. It's our fault; we're going to take care of it.”

Praeis felt her ears wave uncertainly. “You're going to fight for us?”

“Not really,” said the woman. “But we are going to make sure nobody gets near you. You're going to have to recall your people to your ships or your bases, and we'll keep those installations safe until your equipment is cleaned out.”

“You're asking us to withdraw?” exclaimed Ship-Mother Vania, her voice full of disbelief. Her ears flattened against her scalp. “We can't. I mean…” She turned both ears toward Praeis. “With all respect, Task-Mother, I must speak. I know the Humans have no families, but we have sisters out there.” She dipped both ears toward the shore. “We will not abandon them.”

“You can't support them while your gear's clogged up,” said the woman, a tinge of anger coloring her cool Human voice. “Listen, this stuff is alive. It's going to grow and spread and there is nothing in this world to stop it. All your machinery, all your weaponry”—she stabbed a finger toward the window and the distant fleet—“is going to stop working.” Her brown face grew darker as she spoke. “Now, we can help. We want to help, but if you don't quarantine all your equipment where we can get to it in a hurry, this stuff will escape and reinfect everything and you'll never get your war going again.”

“Why isn't your boat affected?” asked Theia suddenly.

The woman gave her a hard look. “We swabbed it down with some specialized disinfectants before we came in, but they're not going to work forever.”

Theia pressed close to Praeis, and Praeis gave her a sideways glance and the flick of one ear. She was obviously dying to say something, and Praeis thought she knew what it was. These two were fidgety for more reasons than one. Praeis glanced around her. Everyone within earshot on deck had frozen in place and strained to hear what she said next.