It was assessing them, Daniels realized. Testing their hearing, their depth perception, their reaction times.
Ahead of her she heard Rosenthal gasp, but neither the private nor her colleagues slackened their pace. An instant later Daniels nearly stumbled over the leg of the relic that had startled Rosenthal.
It was humanoid, but huge. A giant, the private would have called it. As she ran past the inert, desiccated body she noted in passing that it would have fit comfortably within one of the pods they had found on the crashed ship. Had it come from there, unimaginably long ago? Had it arrived on this world from somewhere else? Or was it native to this planet? If the latter, then what was it doing out here, demonstrably dead?
They found themselves trailing the hooded figure down a desolate slope. Here there were no trees, no grass, no wheat. Just bodies. Thousands and thousands of massive, whitish, humanoid bodies. Most were cowering, crouching, straining as if trying to escape an unseen catastrophe. Others had collapsed in fetal terror, hands across their faces, arms wrapped around their heads as if trying to protect them.
A few, exceptional, stood tall and defiant.
It reminded Daniels of similar shapes she had seen in history books. A particular place in the European continent. Pompeii. Dying figures frozen in time and place by the eruption of the nearby volcano Vesuvius. But while the poses around her were reminiscent of that ancient cataclysm, something else had caused all these thousands of deaths. There was no evidence of a lahar or flood or other sudden natural disaster. Whatever had befallen all these humanoids had been more… intimate.
She was brought out of her contemplation by the sound of gunfire. Having decided that their deadly pursuer had drawn too close, Lopé and Rosenthal had turned to fire in its direction. It was impossible to tell if they hit it.
Wounded or not, it continued to shadow them.
The sergeant ordered Rosenthal to stand down.
“Save your ammo. We’re going to need it. We lost everything else back at the lander. You heard it go up. All we’ve got is what we’re carrying.” With a nod, she clicked her rifle off, but she couldn’t keep from looking back, and frequently.
They reached the bottom of the hill, only to be confronted by wonderment. Stretched out before them was an enormous, silent city. While the storm in the ionosphere had screened it from Mother’s scanners, it now lay spread out before them in all of its long-dead glory. And it was dead, Daniels was certain as they continued to follow the hooded figure.
There was no sign of light, of movement. It was as lifeless as the forest and the wheat field and the grass and the lake. Those who had built it and once lived in it lay scattered everywhere, their thousands of huge bodies decaying in the damp climate. Only their monumental structures remained standing.
She should have been recording, she knew as they moved deeper into the silent conurbation. It was one thing to suspect the existence of an intelligent alien civilization. That was something on which mankind had speculated for hundreds of years. It was quite another to encounter proof of it, and to find oneself jogging down the corridors of the reality. Structures whose purpose could only be surmised towered around them. Eldritch statuary and other less-recognizable shapes stood etched by moonlight. Clinging to it all, she mused in amazement, was an undeniable yet ominous beauty.
Thousands more of the crumbling giant bodies lined the streets, twisted, contorted, seated quietly, or propped up against buildings as if trying to climb them. As the hooded figure led them across a vast open plaza they had to constantly alter their course to avoid piles of ancient corpses. All the while they kept a constant eye out for their relentless pursuer. It was there, she knew. Just out of range of their vision now, but there.
Continuing to lead the way, their guide led them to a structure that was not as tall as some of the others, but still constructed on a truly massive scale. The steps leading up to the entrance had been laid down for giants, not humans. Ascending them threatened to sap the last of their reserves.
They were nearly at the top when something prompted their pursuer to finally charge. Pale in the darkness, it came loping toward them, accelerating across the open plaza. Exhausted, they raised their weapons and prepared to defend themselves, closing ranks in order to better concentrate their fire. Their shots hadn’t been able to slow it down before, but even uncertain tactics were better than none at all.
In a display of exceptional strength, their guide wrenched open the towering metal doors at the top of the stairs.
“Inside!”
He gestured for them to follow. Even as she complied, Daniels was struck for a second time by the hooded figure’s easy command of language. She rushed inward, followed by her companions. Lopé was the last to enter as the figure firmly slammed the portal shut behind them.
Safe inside now, the survivors of the disaster that had befallen the expedition stood panting, grateful for a chance to finally catch some air. As their breathing eased they fell back on their training. Gear was inventoried, weapons checked, wounds addressed. A bad joke occurred to Daniels. She decided to withhold it for later. They weren’t yet back on the Covenant. They were not safe.
On the other hand, she reflected, they could have been dead, and quite easily, like poor Hallet. Or Karine, and Faris, and Ankor. They were still alive. She didn’t have any idea how long that would be the case, but it beat the alternative.
Save for their breathing and the occasional nervous, relieved whisper, it was silent within the high, organically designed hallway in which they now found themselves. The silence was oppressive. With their terrible pursuer at least temporarily locked outside, it was time to consider the individual who had saved them. As she turned toward it, hands—human hands—flipped back the concealing hood.
Long ratty hair tumbled from its head and the uniform it wore was tattered and worn. The aspect was feral, but the face underneath the hair was reassuringly human. Not only was it human, it was familiar. Too familiar.
She looked over toward Walter only to find him gazing back at her. Their guide looked just like him. No, she corrected herself. Not “just” like him. Exactly, unnaturally, inhumanly like him.
Which proved to be quite accurate.
“My name is David,” their savior told them. “I’m here to serve.”
XIV
They were all too astonished to reply as the figure turned and led them down the hallway. After a short walk they found themselves in a vast chamber surrounded by a succession of huge stone heads. Though each was subtly different from the next, the sculptures were plainly of the same species of humanoid whose thousands of bodies littered the great city and the approaches to it. Each bust possessed its own individual, austere grandeur.
The individual who had saved them—David—turned and addressed them politely. In his calm courtesy he was exactly like Walter. Clearly they shared more than just their appearance, Daniels told herself. Despite the familiar smile and the soothing, welcoming—though slightly differently accented—voice, she remained wary. There was too much here in need of explanation. Until some of it was forthcoming, she would respond to their guide in kind: with restrained politeness.
You’re being paranoid, she told herself. He saved us all. Doubtless at some risk to himself. If not for his intervention, she and the others would likely all be dead by now, torn apart in the grass by the lakeshore. Besides, he’s a service synthetic. The most advanced model, like Walter. The presence of a second Walter could only improve their desperate hope of getting off this world with their lives intact.