Iris didn’t. It was tragic at best. He stayed silent.
“Those who stayed behind and worked on the gate tech got to see other worlds in their lifetimes. What a strange development.”
Strange was one way to put it. Iris tried to readjust Tev’s body over his shoulder and threw out his right arm against the wall for balance. A faint pulse reached his fingertips.
Iris.
LARGER NETWORK—IT’S ALL PART OF A LARGER—LARGER NETWORK.Riyu’s voice, drenched in metal, spilled from overhead speakers. Ishtan cried out and drew his gun, pointing it at the ceiling. In his fright, Iris dropped Tev’s body and fell to his knees.
NETWORK—LIKE NEURONS IN OUR BRAINS—NETWORK—NETWORK—NET—Riyu’s voice continued.
I got a ping and then nothing, VIFAI said quickly.
“What the hell is that?” Ishtan shouted against the screeching of the voice. “Where the hell is that coming from? How does it sound like Riyu?”
MOTHER TREE—KNOWS ALL HER SAPLINGS—KNOWS ALL HER SAPLINGS BY NAME.
They had been standing over Ordan’s body when Riyu said that, Iris remembered frantically. Why those words? Why those words out of order? If someone was trying to demonstrate that they had recorded everything the group had said, why were they only playing Riyu’s part of the conversation? And where were his own responses? Why didn’t they choose to play a recording of them all, in the same space?
COMPANION PLANTING IS THE SURE WAY—THE SURE WAY—THE SURE WAY—LONG-TERM SPACE TRAVEL—SURVIVAL—COMPANION PLANTING—SURVIVAL.
Ishtan broke into a prayer.
Still glued to the ground, Iris called out, “What is it?”
Mid-prayer, Ishtan froze and looked over at the monk, his dark brown skin ashen with fear. “She gave a lecture on companion planting a week before we left for theNicaea. I went to get her for a meeting, and she was finishing up. How did they get this? How did they get this piece of her lecture? There was no recording.”
“Are you certain no one recorded it anyway? Are you sure she didn’t speak about this aboard the ship?” Iris asked and flinched at a sudden screech from the speakers. “Are you sure that was the last time she spoke about the subject?”
HELLO—HELLO, DR. ORA—DR. ORA—DR. ORA—EVERYONE.
Ishtan buried his hands in his face and trembled. Riyu had never called Ishtan by his professional title, not in Iris’s presence. She hadn’t at all since they had boarded theNicaea. Was this display of surveillance for them only, or was the other group also getting an earful?
“They know who I am.” With a shaky hand, Ishtan pointed the gun towards the ceiling once more and fired. The gunshot threw his hand back, the gun falling from his bruised fingers to the floor. On accident, he struck a speaker, and the metallic screech masquerading as Riyu’s voice died. In the deafening silence, broken only by Ishtan’s soft mutterings, the archaeologist rocked back and forth, arms tightly wound around his chest.
Any ideas at all are most welcome.Iris did his best to conceal his own simmering panic with sarcasm. He was so close to understanding the larger picture, but his mind rebelled against the harrowing conclusion.
There is a very small chance that whoever is watching us managed to connect to the universal feed and retrieved a recording of Dr. Alo’s lecture. Even if Ishtan claims there isn’t one. Iris swore he heard VIFAI sigh.But that is unlikely. Astronomically unlikely. Only an AI would be able to complete the task this quickly, not a person whose only access is the antique tech on this ship. And I’ve been trying to get to the feed all this time. There hasn’t been even a second-long window.
And if there’s no recording in existence?Iris was already suspecting what VIFAI was suggesting, but the idea was just as preposterous as it was sacrilegious.
They got those segments from Dr. Alo herself.
Iris pressed his back firmly against the cold wall of the corridor. Tev’s body lay just where he had dropped it, and it was starting to smell. Ishtan’s prayers reached Iris in a haze, adistant reminder that he couldn’t stop just yet, no matter how much he wanted to.How would they do that?Iris asked. VIFAI didn’t explain.
The understanding was creeping towards him so quickly, he could no longer ignore it.
“Ishtan,” Iris called out softly. The muttering stopped. “Ishtan, it isn’t safe here. We need to move as quickly as we can and meet the others. Who knows what’s happened to them? I suggest we go. We go in silence, and we go softly. I have a feeling that whoever is watching us doesn’t want us speaking ill of theNicaea, doesn’t want us damaging her either.”
Panicked, red-rimmed eyes looked up at Iris from the other side of the corridor.
“Can you do that Ishtan? Follow close and quietly?”
The archaeologist gave him a barely noticeable nod. His nose ran in a pathetic stream, and he wiped it away with the sleeve of his shirt. With a jerky movement, Ishtan grabbed the gun, but he didn’t holster it. “How far away is our meeting spot?”
Iris consulted the map. “Another thirty kilometres. We can push though.”
Without another word, Iris got to his feet and placed Tev on his shoulder. The smell of decay flooded his senses, but he reminded himself there was nothing inherently different between the scent of death and scent of flowers, and began to walk. The reminder was of little help. Ishtan followed closely, stifling a gag every so often when the smell wafted towards him.
