Nancy Kress - Crossfire 02 (39 page)

A TERRAN SHUTTLE

W
hen the truck finally stopped, Alex expected Julian to haul her off for torture. But she didn’t even see him. Evidently he hadn’t yet heard from his soldiers checking the hospital cave near Mira City, where Alex had told him that Jake was hiding. It wouldn’t be long until his soldiers reported in.

The side of the truck slid open. The female Furs immediately stopped keening, evidently frightened into silence. They shrank back against the metal wall.

A Terran soldier, tall and heavily armed, reached in and pulled Alex forward. As Alex’s eyes adjusted, she saw that the soldier was a woman, genemod with glittering violet eyes. She must have been genemod for strength as well. She lifted Alex effortlessly and strode with her toward a shuttle.

Alex’s heart stopped. They were going up to the
Crucible.

But no, that made no sense. Julian wouldn’t have dared a launch, not with the Furs upstairs in their own vastly superior, constantly monitoring ship. Undoubtedly the shuttle had been landed here, hidden, before the space Furs showed up to wreck whatever plans Julian had had for it. And now that she looked more closely, carried like a sack over the Terran soldier’s shoulder, Alex saw that the shuttle wasn’t like any reported by the initial Greentrees team inspecting the
Crucible.
So Julian had off-loaded it somewhere before approaching the planet— a moon, an asteroid—and brought it down sometime later.

The shuttle was big, larger than the truck. It had been parked
very
close to a hillside and then dug partway under it. Camouflage brush and sod covered the roof. Several odd-looking protuberances were probably weapons or surveillors; Alex recognized neither. Could the shuttle be easily brought forward for liftoff, or would that take a huge effort? She couldn’t tell.

The Terran took her inside. She had a brief impression of displays, consoles, tables, intent people, before she was tossed into a closet and the door closed. Before Alex could react, it opened again, md the five female Furs, four tanglefoamed and one loose, were shoved in with her.

But at least this prison had light. And as Alex watched, the tanglefoam dissolved on the Furs, leaving them free. All of them began to keen.

Alex shrank into a corner. Five wild Furs loose, and her own smell not only disgusted them but brought out a deep, genetic xenophobia. Only apparently it didn’t. The Furs ignored her, keening loudly.

Was the murderously xenophobic gene located on whatever was the equivalent of the Y chromosome?

No, that couldn’t be true; the space Furs had female soldiers. She remembered Jake telling her so. So why weren’t these Furs killing her from sheer biological imperative? She had no answer.

The door opened and two large bowls, one food and one water, were pushed in. Alex was suddenly ravenous. She crawled toward the bowl in the posture of extreme subservience Jake had recommended, half expecting to be cuffed or maimed. The females ignored both her and the food. Alex ate with her hands— basic Greentrees cereal, and how good it tasted!—and lapped water with
her
tongue. Feeling much better, she crawled meekly back to her position in the corner and studied the keening females.

One had dirty Fur much sparser and tattered than the others. Her tail wobbled as she leaned on it, and she rested her weight against the wall. One tentacle trembled. All right, Alex thought: Grandmother Fur.

Three of the others looked glossier, even under their dirt, with thicker fur and stronger tails. On one Alex spied a curious structure: a sort of bag distending from underneath the tail. In heat? Pregnant? Alex knew nothing of Fur reproductive procedures. But these looked to her as if they could be fertile females in their prime. Flora, Dora, Cora.

The smallest female, the one that had tended Alex before the Terrans had evidently decided the entire herd wasn’t dangerous, had finer, silkier Fur and a strange bald spot on her chest. Accident, maybe, or prepubescent marker. Or maybe something else entirely, but Alex dubbed her Miranda. Youthful innocence.

“ ’O
brave new world, that has such people in it!’”
Duncan Martin’s resonant genemod voice, and Julian beside her in the Mira City theater…

No. Not that now. She needed to learn as much as she could about the Furs. If she could persuade them to join her in some sort of attack…

This didn’t look likely. The five keened more and then began a peculiar hopping motion, one bounce on their tail and then one on the left foot. Grandmother had trouble after a few of these, and she rested against the wall. The other four kept it up.

Alex hauled herself to her feet. The food felt queasy in her stomach, but not enough to throw it up. Her strength had at least started to return, as Karim had promised it would. He’d seen this Vine infection before, he’d reminded her. He’d had it. Humans did not die of it.

Alex tried a hop on her left foot. She had no tail, but she imitated the tail hop as best she could by bracing herself with one arm against the wall and using that for the alternate hop. She ululated, trying to hit the same pitch as the Furs’ keening.

They all stopped and stared at her, baring their teeth.

What did that mean? At least she had their attention, for the first time. Tiring rapidly, Alex nonetheless hopped and keened a little longer. The female Furs watched her and then returned to their own mourning, if that’s what it was. For all Alex knew, she was performing a rain dance. Or a mating display.

The six females hopped and wailed as long as Alex and Grandmother Fur could keep it up.

“Jake was not where you said he’d be,” Julian said. “Where is he, Alex?”

“I don’t know.”

He stood before her in yet another closet-sized room, hands clasped easily, casually behind his back, long legs slightly apart. The green eyes regarded her contemplatively. Julian wore the black uniform in which he’d arrived from Terra, closely fitting his beautiful body. Alex, unbound in a chair in front of him, had been stripped of her blanket. They were alone.

“I’ll ask you again, Alex. I need Jake to defeat the Furs—who are, incidentally, your enemy as well. I should think you’d remember that. Where is Jake, Alex?”

“I don’t know.”

He unclasped his hands and raised one fist. The hand, Alex noted numbly, with the green-stone gold ring.
“Who gave you that ring?” “My mother. .
.” His ringed fist clutched something small and metallic. He aimed it at her breasts and fired.

The pain was astonishing. Alex screamed and fell off the chair. Writhing on the floor, she clawed at her chest, which was on fire, burning through her skin to the nerves themselves …

“Don’t claw like that, there’s nothing there,” Julian said calmly. “That was a low setting, Alex, and a not-very-vulnerable area of your body. I’ll try your cunt next. Where is Jake?”

“I don’t know!”

This time she passed out from the incredible pain, and when she came to, it was still there. Julian raised his weapon.

“I don’t know!” she babbled, tears and snot on her face. “I don’t know! Oh, Julian, don’t… they left me to infect the Furs and I got sick and when I came to I was here oh Julian please no …”

“Infect the Furs? What do you mean?”

She told him everything. Karim, Lucy, Vine, all of it. Once she stopped and he fired again and she babbled on. She was still talking when she realized that he was no longer there, he had heard enough and left the room. The pain did not leave. It took an hour for it to even lessen.

A soldier dumped her again in with the Furs. Alex cried out when she hit the floor. The door closed and she was dimly aware, through the red haze of agony, of the Furs clustered around her, making awful noises and odd smells.

They dribbled the cool drinking water on her breasts and crotch, and it helped a little. They tugged gently on her head hair; Alex never did figure out what that was supposed to do. They covered her with the one blanket and offered her lumps of cereal on the ends of filthy tentacles. Finally, when the pain eased enough for Alex to fall into despairing sleep, they resumed hopping and keening.

She woke in terror. The female Furs were all asleep, but Cora woke at her cry. The female removed the blanket and dribbled more water on Alex’s wounds. Again she tugged gently on Alex’s hair.

It didn’t help. But in her shame and pain and helpless hatred, Alex found herself reaching out for Cora’s tentacle. She got a foot instead, and held on, sobbing.

The alien let her, tugging softly on Alex’s hair.