Quiet Invasion(168)

“I like that,” said Ca’aed. “And their cities love them?”

“No,” said T’sha as gently as possible. “Their cities are not such as they can return the love.”

“What a great thing it is,” murmured Ca’aed. “To be able to love even that which cannot return your love.”

T’sha had not thought of that before, but the idea felt comfortable inside her. “Yes, it is a great thing.”

“I heard Br’sei when he came.”

A cloud, thick with the smell of illness drifted across them. T’sha coughed. “I’m sorry, Ca’aed. I did not mean you to.” I thought you too distracted. I should know better than to underestimate you, even now.

“Will you abandon the New People?” asked Ca’aed.

T’sha stiffened. “I cannot be with them and with you. You are my city.”

“You cannot choose which life you serve,” whispered Ca’aed. Its heart labored unevenly as it spoke. T’sha lifted herself until her skin just brushed Ca’aed’s skin. She could no longer control her size. Her body shuddered and wavered to the uneven rhythms of Ca’aed’s last heart.

“I must choose,” she said.

Something stank, thick, rank, and choking. She could sense it in every pore. The flies landed on her wings to taste her flesh, and she lacked the strength to shake them off.

“Perhaps I am not dying,” whispered Ca’aed. “Perhaps I am going to sleep.”

“Perhaps you are.”

Ca’aed’s heart spasmed. It jerked twice. Another foul cloud rose around T’sha, and the heart lay still.

T’sha settled slowly onto the still skin that covered the heart. She could not move her wings or even her bones. Around her she heard sounds of collapsing air sacs and loosening muscles.

She heard herself moaning.

But she did not hear Ca’aed. She would never hear Ca’aed again. Her mind clutched at the last few words, drawing them deep into her soul. All the words she would ever have. There would be no more. No more, ever.

You cannot choose which life you serve.

What a great thing it is, to be able to love even that which cannot return your love.

T’sha rose from her city’s silent heart. She swelled herself, aware she was exhausted, but no longer caring. She beat her wings until her body caught the soaring wind and she shot out of the city’s body.

She saw no one. She heard nothing. She was aware only of where she must go and what she must do. There were vague voices somewhere, calling and arguing, but they meant nothing. All the meaning was in Ca’aed’s words. Those and her body were all T’sha could call her own now, and she could not forsake them.

Vee had thought that seeing the People through a wall screen, in the familiar surroundings of Josh’s lab, would lessen some of the impact. She was wrong. They were just as grand, just as golden, and just as awe-inspiring in their aerial dances.

Well, the camera’s working, she thought.

This was the test flight of the new drone they had dubbed “His Ambassador’s Voice.” Vee and Josh stood beside a desk in Josh’s lab, surrounded by dismantled lasers and survey drones. Josh had the specialized keypad for flying the drone in his hands, and Vee had her briefcase with its image catalog and updated software open and jacked into the drone controls. A tangle of cables held them together. It was probably symbolic of something.

The fly-by drones were already remote controlled. They used the communication satellite network that ringed Venus to send their signals back to Venera, so they were natural candidates when Vee and Josh began to think about a mobile communications device.

The problem had been, as ever, mounting a projection device that wouldn’t melt or be crushed.

Their reworked drone was a big, blocky confabulation that only stayed up because it was supported by Venus’s atmosphere. Most of the size was a consequence of the insulation and housing for the projection laser and the last sheet of Vee’s film. The drone didn’t fly so much as lurch, but that was all right. It moved. Now they had to see if it could speak.

Through the drone’s camera they watched a flock of the People’s attendant jellyfish scatter in all directions. A trio of people floated up to look into the main window, close enough that Vee could see their tattoos clearly. She spotted the interlocking circles on their wings. These were all engineers, but she couldn’t see Br’sei among them.

“Your turn,” said Josh softly.

“Right.” Vee licked her lips and pressed the Send key to execute the commands she had waiting.

A strip at the bottom of the screen lit up with the message that was, hopefully, at this moment being displayed on the film right next to the camera.