Then Bynum spoke. Xavier had been watching the Revenant; eyes closed, still subdued, he had been watching the others until now, when he seemed to summon energy from within. “Is that it?” he asked. His voice almost sounded like it had before his death.
“You need more?” Weldon snapped.
Bynum turned to Harley. “The word you need, Drake, isn’t infestation. You could probably deal with that. The word is invasion.”
Bynum turned to Nayar. “Your intuition was correct. All three of the new things you saw are just different forms of these bugs. More complex…templates.” He seemed confused for a moment. “Yes, templates is the word in my head.”
“The important question,” Nayar said, “is whether these templates pose a threat.”
“They do,” Bynum said. “They’re what everyone is fighting.”
“Who’s everyone?” Harley said. Exactly what Xavier wanted to know, too.
“The Architects,” Bynum said. “And, essentially, every other race on the NEO. They have been fighting a war against these things for a seriously long time.” He hesitated and seemed to check out, reminding Xavier of a sideline reporter at a football game listening to new information in his earpiece. “They’re called the Gatherers, the Ravagers.” He smiled, reminding Xavier of a quiz show contestant who had hit on just the right answer. “Reivers. They’re the Reivers.”
Weldon said, “Have we somehow been enlisted in a centuries-long interstellar war against…bugs and anteaters?”
“You’re not getting this, are you?” Bynum said, as if talking to a dim child. “I’ve been sent to tell you this basic information: Unless we stop them here, the Reivers are going to suck up every bit of life and energy any of us have, just to make more of them. That’s what they do wherever they go.”
“Sounds efficient and focused,” Weldon said.
Bynum turned to Harley. “What do I have to do to convince you that this”—he pointed at the Woggle-Bug smear—“is a real enemy?”
To Xavier, Harley seemed ready to believe Bynum. But he also deferred, as always, to Weldon. “Tell you what,” he said to Bynum. “Go with Vikram and his team. Tell them everything you know, especially how to defend against the Reivers. That way, once we know what our next step is…we’ll be ready.”
It seemed logical to Xavier, but Bynum laughed. “Typical NASA. You guys bitch about the White House and everyone else, but when it comes to putting off painful decisions, you could give lessons.”
He leaned down, putting himself nose to nose with Harley. “Every minute, every second you waste, you make this harder. Wait too long, and there won’t be anything you can do about it, except watch the entire NEO be infected.
“And then, of course, there’s Earth. These things love mineral-rich, wet environments that have lots of sun. That will be their ultimate target.”
“Talk to Nayar,” Harley said.
As Bynum began sharing his Keanu knowledge with Nayar and Jaidev—it seemed to Xavier that he was almost barraging the Bangalore men—Weldon leaned over to Harley and said, “This resurrection stuff raises a lot of shameful temptations,” Weldon said.
“What are you talking about?” Harley answered.
“As big a pain in the ass as Bynum was in Houston, he’s far worse now. He could be dangerous as shit, too.”
“Agreed. So what?”
“Knowing that death isn’t permanent anymore…aren’t you just a little tempted to ice this guy again?”
Harley just shook his head and, perhaps realizing that Xavier could hear them, said, “Roll with me.”
Weldon pushed Harley off toward the entrance.
The NASA man’s suggestion disturbed Xavier. He had tried to imagine what Earth would be like if everyone knew for sure that death wasn’t the end…that some part of them, some electrical memory, got uploaded to the universe…and, with the right technology, could be downloaded again into a new body. Take Momma…dying of cancer, going through all kinds of hell with chemo and radiation, having parts of her cut away.
If the Revenant technology existed on Earth, why, wouldn’t you just skip all that pain and horror? Wouldn’t you just go see a Dr. Death and be done with it, after arranging to be brought back, better, with no cancer?
And that was just good people like Momma. Look at Mr. Weldon—he wasn’t a criminal or a murderer. But knowing that death was temporary…he was talking about killing Mr. Bynum just to solve a problem.
How many people would feel the same way?
Xavier wasn’t sure he wanted to live in a world with Revenant technology.
But then, it didn’t appear that that was an option. Not with this Reivers threat.
Xavier appreciated Bynum’s energy and certainty. He was like a TV evangelist, the kind who had you convinced that angels were real…until five minutes after you changed to a different channel.
On the subject of a war, Xavier was leaning toward Shane Weldon’s point of view. Bugs were a problem; Xavier hated most of them.
But how could the Architects, people who could build Keanu, travel between the stars, who held the power of life and death…how the hell could they be seriously threatened by termites?
The twilight landscape of the habitat certainly appeared calm. Xavier had already made some nice friends among the HBs. He would hate to think of them dying, even if they could be reborn.
Harley and Weldon rolled back to the group. “Okay,” Harley said, “a mayoral decision. Vikram and Bynum, get to work eradicating these bugs. I don’t care what chemical you have to develop, just do it ASAP.”
“Fine,” Nayar said. “Then what?”
“Then we work on defending the Temple. It’s our major source of food and water now, and it’s the only place where we have access to weapons and high tech.”
“So you’re not going to be proactive,” Bynum said. “The Reivers will have this place overrun in two days. And they’re not nice about it. Everyone out there will be dead.”
Before Harley could offer an argument, three strange things happened very quickly.
First, a voice behind Xavier said, “Hey, people!” Gabriel Jones was not only standing, he almost looked like his old self. “Am I the only one around here with eyes?”
He pointed to the Temple opening, which was the second strange thing:
Sasha Blaine was there. With her was Camilla, her eyes wide with fear.
The third thing was a scream from somewhere far out in the habitat.
Part Six
Not sure I’m digging the space exploration experience. Used to think it might be cool, even after my dad got involved in it (though not so much from that point on, because your parents’ work, no matter how cool, is NEVER cool).
What’s the point? The ride doesn’t look to be that much fun, unless you like crazy roller coasters. The voyage makes you ache and throw up, usually. And when you get to some new planet, you have to carry your air and water and tools—or hope to make them there. Yeah, that’s a strategy: Let’s replicate a few hundred or thousand years of human history this afternoon.
And, what happens if you run into somebody that doesn’t want you there?
KEANU-PEDIA BY PAV, ENTRY #5
THE PRISONER
The former Prisoner now had companions. Or enemies.
Or food creatures.
Life on the home world was seven times seven times seven cycles in the far past. To the Prisoner, that life was a myth filled with improbable vistas and ridiculous activities. Imagine being able to swim in a straight line for more than a seventh of a cycle! Or to dive to a depth greater than the height of seven of the People!
Nevertheless, for all its skepticism, the Prisoner spoke the language of its ancestors, using the same terms. It was disconcerting to be confronted with situations for which it had no words.
As in this case: There were no other intelligent races on the home world, only the People; other ambulatory beings were divided into food creatures of the sea and enemies from the land.