“I… think they’re dying,” Howard said.
Del Kellum pushed his way close to Zhett and Patrick. “By damn, they look like fish floating belly up.”
The hydrogue figure regarded them with its blunt-featured face, a poorly molded doll made of metallic clay. The figure took one lurching step toward them, as if uncertain how to move its limbs. It turned toward Zhett, and she could make out only the shadow of a representative nose, eyes, mouth on its face.
The hydrogue avatar spoke in a hollow tone that held a background of thunder and clanging metal. “You must depart.” The deep-core aliens had learned human language from the prisoners they had taken during the long war. “Leave this planet.”
Alarms continued to sound on the skymine. In the past, the drogues had given no warning, simply annihilated any Roamer facilities that trespassed in their clouds.
But the warglobes surrounding the skymine still had not opened fire.
“Why?” Zhett demanded. “What did we do?”
“Leave this planet,” the avatar repeated. “It has been contaminated.”
The figure flinched. Its facial features sharpened, then transformed into a caricature of agony before the face melted away, streaming back into smooth blankness. Its arms and legs twisted, flailed, and it bent over as if having a seizure. When the hydrogue straightened again its body was distorted. Its mouth opened so wide it filled most of the simulated face.
“Leave this planet! Escape…”
Shareen turned quickly toward her parents. “It’s not threatening us—it’s warning us.”
“There is a breach through the transgate,” the hydrogue continued. “The shadows are bleeding through from our core…”
Patrick grabbed Zhett’s arm. “I think we should listen. Let’s get the hell away from Golgen.”
The hydrogue’s quicksilver skin looked tarnished, blotched, and leprous. The thing’s mouth opened to let out a long hollow moan, like a blast of cold wind on a lonely night.
Then the figure bent backward at an impossible angle and staggered to the edge of the skydeck. With a last burst of energy, it leaped away from the skymine and plunged down into the endless sky.
FIFTY
ORLI COVITZ
Marriage wasn’t supposed to be a unilateral decision, but her husband’s choice wasn’t something Orli could alter. His mistress was pregnant, and he’d decided, belatedly, that he wanted children after all. Matthew was gone now. No further discussion, just a change in situation, and Orli refused to become one of those shrill and desperate wives in a crumbling marriage who embarrassed herself by fighting for something that she didn’t really want anymore.
Matthew continued his travel schedule after staying only two days on Relleker (in a hotel—at least he had that much consideration). He was off on his usual speaking circuit, and Orli didn’t expect him back anytime soon. She accessed his itinerary, saw that he was flying to New Portugal—and Henna Gann—after only a brief stopover on Qorliss.
Out of habit, Orli kept working at their compy facility, just going through the motions, but it gave her something to focus on. She had once considered the compies her surrogate children, and now the realization stung.
She was due to record another one of her amusing educational loops with DD, and had already laid out the lesson and speech, but she couldn’t find the heart for it. She didn’t feel very amusing, or even useful, at the moment. She hoped DD wasn’t too disappointed, but knew he would cheerfully accept the change of plans without question.
“Good morning, Orli,” said LU as the Listener compy moved among his companions in the Relleker facility. She had noticed that LU spent his days on an unwavering circuit, striking up conversations with other compies, going around the room, and eventually talking to the same compies again, often with the same conversational gambit.
She tried to keep the sigh out of her voice. “Good morning, LU.”
“Good morning, Orli,” said the other compies.
The Domestic compy, MO, said, “Your breakfast is ready, Orli. I prepared your favorite. It’s hot and delicious.”
Orli wasn’t hungry, but she appreciated someone taking care of her. MO had made a savory omelet, and Orli took two polite bites before settling in to enjoy the cup of steaming klee. The bold peppery taste always perked her up, as if she were drinking distilled sunshine from Theroc.
She found a note beside the cup, a message from Rlinda Kett. “Here’s your monthly supply of klee, Orli—a new blend, a little stronger and yet smoother. Let me know how you like it. It’s been too long since we’ve talked.”
As Orli read the message, she felt a smile creeping up the corners of her mouth. The big trader woman had accepted Matthew because he was Orli’s husband, but she had never much warmed to him. Now Orli expected Rlinda would also politely refrain from saying, “I told you so.”
Sipping the klee, Orli remembered the excitement she had felt when she was younger, traveling to different planets (many of them not by choice). She had accompanied her daydreamer father on his quests to strike it rich, supporting his preposterous schemes—growing mushrooms on Dremen or joining a new colony on Corribus, which had led only to disaster. But those ordeals had made Orli strong. If she could survive a black robot massacre and a Klikiss invasion, she was strong enough to handle a disenchanted husband.
Years ago, Orli had traveled the Spiral Arm, seeing amazing things. She flew on many missions with Captain Branson Roberts and Rlinda Kett.
Orli had enjoyed exploring, but when she settled down, she’d given up everything for Matthew. Together, they devoted their time and energy to tending discarded compies and finding them new homes. For years, she had thought that was enough. Matthew basked in the limelight, the travel, the speaking engagements, and Orli was surprised to realize that she had become a homebody—not quite a recluse, but unadventurous, almost introverted. She didn’t like that about herself. No wonder Matthew no longer found her interesting. She’d done what she thought he wanted, what she thought she wanted.
DD came in to give his morning report, bright as always. “Good morning, Orli. How is your day so far?”
“The same as yesterday. No better, no worse.”
The compy activated her desk screen, called up a series of messages. “Maybe I can make it better. We have received a report from Matthew Freling.”
Her husband tried to maintain a formal business relationship, as if nothing had changed in their work, even though their marriage had collapsed like a dying star. Her throat went dry, but she maintained a neutral tone. “What does he have to say?”
“I can play his verbal message for you. He makes quite an articulate case.”
Orli frowned. “I prefer to hear the words from you.”
“I can do that.” DD repeated the exact words he had said, and she was grateful he didn’t try to simulate Matthew’s voice. “ ‘I called in a few favors, Orli, contacted a Confederation colony on Ikbir. They have two hundred settlers now, but they’re expanding and need compies of all kinds. I told them we had twenty-five available and the colony leader offered to take them all.’”
DD’s voice changed slightly as he returned to himself. His optical sensors glowed with excitement. “That is what our facility wants, isn’t it, Orli? All of these compies can have homes on Ikbir. I hope I get a good home.”
“You have a good home, DD.” Tears filled her eyes, but she brushed them away. “I’m keeping you with me, no matter what. You don’t have to worry.”