And T’sha wasn’t so sure they were.
“Josh,” she said, watching the empty perches outside. “I think the easy part is over with.”
T’sha rose from the World Portal into the miasma of metallic odors and coughed hard, contracting spasmodically around herself.
When she was able to spread her wings again, Pe’sen was beside her. “There’s a dirigible waiting for you. Let me guide you out of here.”
T’sha brushed her wing against his in thanks, “Quickly, Pe’sen.”
Pe’sen led the way, calling ahead the securitors and the portals to clear the way. The metallic walls and struts passed by in a blur. All T’sha saw was the dirigible’s open gondola. She shot inside, barely hearing Pe’sen’s call of “Good luck!”
The dirigible already had its orders. It closed up and lit its engines before T’sha even had time to grasp its perches. She rocked badly as the dirigible shot forward, but she didn’t care. She was on her way.
“Ca’aed?” she ordered her headset to carry her voice to her city. Her stricken city. How bad? Maybe not so bad, maybe just a panic, an exaggeration. Ca’aed was strong, Ca’aed had survived so much.
“T’sha?” came Ca’aed’s voice, strong, but strained. “Good luck, Ambassador.”
T’sha’s teeth clacked involuntarily. “Good luck, my city. I’m coming to see what all the fuss is about.”
“I’m not sure I can let you near me, T’sha.”
Fear twitched T’sha’s bones. “I’m your ambassador, Ca’aed. You cannot deny me.”
“I can’t endanger you ei—” The word cut off.
“Ca’aed!” shouted T’sha. Life of my mother, life of my father, what is happening to you?
“Evacuation,” said Ca’aed. “We must call for evacuation. I am alerting the safety engineers. Do not come here, T’sha.”
T’sha did not answer. She ordered her headset to find her birth mother.
“T’sha, you are returning?” came her anxious voice. “There is trouble—”
“I know Mother Pa’and. Listen to me. You must organize the family. The safety engineers are being called. Ca’aed says you need to evacuate.”
“Life of my mother…” breathed Mother Pa’and.
“I know, I know, but we can’t let this get away from us. We are a million and we may all be ill. A quarantine shell is a priority, but even before that we must keep everyone from scattering. Spread the word. Everyone must stay together. We cannot let anyone flee. Do you understand?”
“I understand Ambassador.” Mother Pa’and’s voice was firm now. “We will do as you say.”
“Thank you. Good luck.” Hurry, hurry, hurry, she thought to the dirigible. I need to be there! But she could hear the whine of its engines and taste the ozone and electrochemicals. It was already straining to reach greater speeds, sacrificing smooth flight to plow straight ahead. She could ask nothing more of it.
She did not even ask it to open its inner eyes. She did not want to see Ca’aed growing in the distance. She did not want to see its people, her people, swarming around it like flies. She would see that soon enough. She had to concentrate, call the speakers, call the archivers. The city’s records had to be stored and saved.
A million people. A million to be quarantined and examined and provided for, even as Ca’aed itself had to be quarantined, examined, and provided for. She alone could make promises for her city. She needed to know what her city had left to give.
If Ca’aed should become sick now, you will have nothing left. Z’eth’s words dropped into her thoughts. T’sha shoved them away. It was not that bad. She had not been that profligate. Surely not. They had caught this in time. There would be damage, yes. There would be expense, but they were a million strong and they loved their city. They were united and they had acted promptly. Their city had not let them try to keep quiet and hide this illness from the world. They would call in help from their neighbors. It would be all right.
The dirigible banked sharply and slowed. Its portal opened and T’sha shot out into the open air. She saw her city spreading before her, and her body collapsed.
Directly in front of her, heavy, fungal blotches filled the deep crevices of Ca’aed’s coral walls. She could taste them with her whole mouth. Her throat and skin tightened against the sickness. The wake villages were already being brought around to the leeward walls. The safety engineers hovered with their tools, draping the villages in the gauzelike strainers to keep out contagion, if that was possible. Shells were being lifted from Ca’aed’s body and orderly flight chains of people filed into them. As they filled, the shells were wrapped in strainers and tethered together with bloodless ligaments. The people were closed inside to wait for the doctors, to wonder if the sickness had spread from their city to themselves.