“I already hate this plan,” Suncross growled. His crew snarled their agreement, and I sighed audibly.
“You didn’t even let me finish. Damn impatient gecko.” I had to ignore his copious objections or the Phage would roll up and eat us while I was placating this hotheaded Bruqvisz. “Then we lay a trap—one that involves poison and explosions. Let me break it down for you. . . .”
It took some convincing, but eventually, we got Typhon to agree to guard Greenheld in case Lifekiller doubled back. Personally, I thought the god-king wouldn’t do that unless he was ready to drink this world down like cold tea on a hot day. How long before he gathered the power to destroy our team and annihilate the collective Abyin Dommas defenses? I’d rather not study on it.
Though I was ready for a shower and a long sleep, I didn’t get a choice. We had to handle the Phage and then get after Lifekiller.
First, though, there were preparations to make. Beckoning to Xyll, I sprinted for its quarters. “Come on. We don’t have much time.”
I sat down in Ops and closed my eyes, dropping into the bond that made us Zadim, then Bea slid in, and everything felt warmer, brighter. Starcurrent came last, all gray and mournful, wounded with zis exile. The Phage song gnawed at our ears, brutal teeth raking over bare bone, and we didn’t need the navigation to find them. They would not need to intercept.
The swarm spiraled toward us, past the brightness of singing stars and the deep emptiness of barren debris fields. Here, here, we would begin.
“Now,” we said to Suncross.
“We are bait!” he crowed. “I take it back, Zeerakull. I love this plan!”
The Bruqvisz ship dropped behind us, and Nadim slid into a dark run, gone, gone, gone. Mech ships could fail—and the Phage had to know that—so faulty equipment could lead to a dead ship full of delicious edible salvage, and that was the magic of this trap. The Bruqvisz engines stilled, a series of controlled explosions rocked their ship, and blobs of flaff drifted out of the seemingly disabled vessel.
Fall for it, we willed.
Dread flooded us, this close to the swarm. Some hesitated, split away from the whole. Orders were orders, but food was food. Xyll had its own instructions to create discord in the hive mind, but we didn’t know if one voice would have any sway against so many. Still, it must be whispering of hunger, even now.
We waited, lurking, controlling fear and doubt. There could be no mistakes.
The Nadim part of us hurt—old pains, new ones—and we knew his suffering as our own. Exhaustion made it hard to hold in stealth mode, burning through our joint reserves. Soon, it must be soon.
More of the monsters came, slow at first, and then feasting, tapping away at the metal shell with idle curiosity. The moment they committed, our melded union broke like a firework, falling into our separate selves in rays of light. We—no, I—scrambled with clammy fingers toward the control panel.
“Now!” I said hoarsely.
Bea activated our zappers as Suncross fired up his engines and spun like a centrifuge, dislodging the unwelcome passengers. Disoriented, the Phage didn’t seem to realize this was a trap. The ones who’d eaten the poison flaff were maddened, attacking other cells nearby.
Chaos, it was fucking chaos, and for us, a chance in a thousand.
“Suncross, explosions!”
I dispatched some drones and we kept firing: zappers, globulators to glue masses of the things together, anything to kill them before they came up with a new plan. Nadim’s power was damn near shot, though, and human and Abyin Dommas reserves were running low. Our drones dove and circled around Nadim, following flight patterns Bea had programmed. They formed an awesome line of defense, but we hadn’t killed enough of the Phage yet.
Still too many. And we were burning time. Each second we delayed here meant Lifekiller getting farther away.
I stumbled as Nadim lurched, rolling to sweep away some attackers with a powerful flick of his tail. Good, he was learning. But damn.
“Sorry,” he said.
“We’re fine.” Bea was down on one knee, Starcurrent half supporting her, and she’d hit her head on the console. Bleeding.
I nearly ran to her—wanted to—but I had my hands on the weaponry, and I couldn’t let up. I tapped the fire button until there was just no more power, and the lights even flickered inside. Nadim let out a harsh sound, like nothing I’d ever heard before. Oh God, we’re killing him.
The Phage kept coming.
Not many left, but too many.
Then Suncross came through with a time-delay sticky bomb, and I could hear the lizards screaming triumphant battle cries across the silence of space. Nah, they were on the comm, doing some celebratory dance as the last Phage in this sector thrashed and died. I would’ve liked to learn the steps, but I was too damn tired.
“We did it,” I managed to say.
“For now. Have depleted all reserves,” Starcurrent pointed out.
“Give us this, okay? We have to find joy in the little things or—”
“Zara, I’m normally the first one to look on the bright side, but I have bad news.” Bea wouldn’t let me bask in the win for even fifteen seconds.
Wearily, I turned. The cut on her head was still bleeding sluggishly, but she wasn’t paying it any mind. “What now?”
“We’ve lost track of Lifekiller.”
“How is that possible? He’s huge. He radiates energy like a sun.” It wasn’t that I doubted her, but I wanted to see for myself. And after messing with the sensors for a full five minutes, I had to accept that she was right. “Nadim, you got anything?”
“I’m sorry, Zara.” He sounded so weak. “In this state, I cannot even hear Typhon singing, and I know he is near.”
Well, relatively speaking.
We’d beaten the Phage’s planned ambush but lost the god-king. And dammit, that must have been his intention. If they killed us all, bonus. Unstoppable conquest. If not, he got away to ravage some other civilization and perpetrate unspeakable harm, at least until we ran him down again. Really, either one was a win for him because he didn’t care about the Phage. They were foot soldiers fighting for an emperor who saw them as insects.
“Let’s head back,” I said finally. “We’ll rendezvous with the others and tell them what’s happened. Then we pilot our Leviathan to compatible stars. After that . . .”
Who the hell knew? Our options only looked to be bad and worse.
FROM THE RECORDS OF THE LOST CIVILIZATION OF THE OQU’ILLA, RETRIEVED BY THE BRUQVISZ. NOT DISTRIBUTED.
In these, the last days of our world, we celebrate in madness. Rules are suspended; custom is gone; there is nothing but the end before us. We have destroyed ourselves, this much is clear; we saw far, but not far enough to save ourselves. We would leave you warnings but there is no point; every life-form comes to this point, and only some survive the moment. We will not; we know this. And so we will destroy ourselves in this last frenzy of creation.
Our world will give birth to a star, and we will become voices lost in that song. We will not flee. We cannot.
Do not remember us.
We are a storm in the stars.
Interlude: Nadim
I am afraid. So afraid. For myself, for my dear Zara and Beatriz, for Starcurrent, who has sung into my soul, for Yusuf and Marko and Chao-Xing, even for Elder Typhon, who still bears such scars. We are not ready to fight this war. We are alone in the dark, and no matter how bright we burn we cannot drive it away.