Webdancers (38 page)

Chapter Seventy-Two

If they come for us, there will be no place to hide.

—Ancient Tulyan warning

The moment Noah set foot on the docking platform of the cocoon, he began to feel physically stronger. His skin wasn’t even in direct contact with the mottled gray-and-black flesh—only his shoes were—but he still felt an instant infusion of vitality greater than any before, and the fatigue seemed to fade entirely. The cocoon was becoming like a mother’s womb, providing nutrients for him in invisible ways.

But he didn’t have time to wonder about the nature or cause of the phenomenon. A tidal wave of destruction was on the way.

Thinker greeted him on the platform. “Did the meeting go well, Master Noah?”

“A new threat is on the way.” Taking less than a minute, he told the robot what he knew.

As Thinker listened, the lights around his metal faceplate glowed an angry shade of orange. Then he said, “We must fight back hard.”

“That is my intent. Now, I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait for me again, friend. I’m going back into the sectoid chamber of this cocoon.”

“The weapon room,” Thinker said.

“Essentially, yes. I wish it were not that way, but I have no choice.” With a grim expression, Noah gave the sentient robot an affectionate pat on the shoulder, feeling this might be the last time the two of them ever saw each other.

Thinker’s metal-lidded eyes blinked, as if fighting away tears that were not actually there. At least not physically.

Noah knelt on the platform, and touched his hands against the podship flesh. It became gray liquid around him. He felt the warmth of the alien cellular material, and allowed it to run up his arms.

“I’ve been given considerable autonomy in the use of the weapon,” Noah said, “and I’ll be focused on what I have to do.” The soft flesh covered his body, all the way up to his shoulders. “I can’t use a conventional webtalker to relay information—they say there’s too much disturbance around the cocoon—so I need you to remain in direct comlink contact with General Nirella and Doge Anton. Obtain their commands, and relay them to me.”

“What? Oh, you’re thinking I can use my organic interface connection on the podflesh, and that will put me in contact with you?”

“Try it now. Quickly.”

The familiar tentacle snaked out of Thinker’s alloy body, and darted into the gray-and-black flesh on a nearby bulkhead. “Yes,” the robot said, “I am now linked to your mind. It will work.”

“Good. One more thing. You’ve always been a de facto officer in the Liberator fleet, though no one has ever given you a rank.”

“No matter. I command the robots, but at the pleasure of Humans.”

“It
does
matter, my good friend. For your unflagging loyalty and service, you deserve more. Therefore, as Master of the Guardians, I hereby appoint you Vice-General, in charge of all robots. Tell Anton and Nirella I made a battlefield promotion. I’m sure they won’t countermand it.”

“Thank you, Master Noah. Where shall I meet you after our victory?”

“Anywhere on the cocoon,” Noah said, with a stiff smile. “I’ll know where you are, because it will be an extension of my own body.”

The alien flesh rose up Noah’s neck, to his chin.

“We’re very small in this galaxy, aren’t we?” Thinker said.

It was the last thing Noah heard before he swam into the flesh and became one with it. Again he seemed to cross a vast distance, as if traversing the entire universe. There were no stars, only a darkness that gradually began to glow with a soft green luminescence. Once more, he reached the sectoid chamber and rose to his feet inside, like an alien life form that had just been born and could already stand.

Again he pressed his face against the glowing green flesh of the sectoid chamber, and his enlarged countenance emerged on the outside of the cocoon, this time showing the podman features of his evolved face. He disengaged from the inverted dome of the Council Chamber, and floated free of it.

Noah felt like he was in a vast sea that stretched across the cosmos. All around him, as if his presence was connected to a vast cosmic circuit, he felt the energy source building, the raw, elemental power of the superweapon. He became a brilliant green sun in space with shining Noah-faces all around it, looking in all directions with the multiple humanoid eyes, casting spotlights of illumination to the farthest reaches of galactic existence. Noah was the cocoon; he was the weapon, and much more. He was a mote, a micro-organism, an embryonic life form, but he extended across time and space. Again he was in direct contact with the primal energy of the universe.

Peering through the green illumination, Noah saw hundreds of the immense, dark creatures scrambling across the podways like huge hunting daggs following a scent, going toward the starcloud along the identical secondary route that Noah had taken. He felt a chill. He still could not make out details of the monsters, only glimpses of multiple legs beneath their bodies, propelling them forward at high speed.

Web Spinners.

As if in response to his thoughts, the massed Aopoddae stirred around him, an agitation of ancient flesh. Trembling to the very depths of his own soul, Noah Watanabe knew that he would have preferred to hold back, that he didn’t really want to be any part of a weapon, and especially not one of this frightening scope and power. But he was coming to believe that this horrendous device stood right in the middle of his evolutionary path, blocking his way until he used it. He could not go around the duty, could not avoid the dreadful task that lay before him, no matter how much he might like to. Causing destruction ran counter to every instinct he had. Throughout history, the very worst genocides and ecological disasters had been brought about by warfare. Even the current galactic-wide crisis might have been started by military conflict, and at the very minimum it had been severely exacerbated by it.

Must I use violence to quell violence,
he thought,
to begin the process of restoring the galaxy?
And he wondered if his own hesitation, his own doubts, were causing the agitation in the podship flesh in which he was immersed.

He wondered, as well, how the mysterious cocoon weapon functioned, what its workings looked like. It seemed to be an unanswerable question, of enormous proportions. The thing just existed, and in certain circumstances the incredible weapon could spew destruction across the galaxy—like an immense green-flame thrower. He sensed, however, that even that might not be enough against such a threat.

Less than eleven minutes had passed since the Tulyans had estimated the eighteen-minute arrival time, so there should be seven left. But Noah thought it might be more like three now. In the last few moments, the Web Spinners had increased their speed, in anticipation of reaching their goal.

They were hungry.…

* * * * *

Clinging to the forward wall of
Webdancer
’s much smaller sectoid chamber, Tesh Kori monitored the flurry of activity in the meeting rooms and corridors of the flagship, and in space around her. Through her connection with the podflesh, she listened to the interior of the vessel, while looking outward through visual sensors in the hull. The Liberator fleet had been divided up and positioned according to General Nirella’s orders, prepared to defend the starcloud against the fast-approaching threat.

Web Spinners, they called them. Ancient creatures from the undergalaxy. Demons? That was the only parallel she could draw to Parvii legends, which described the undergalaxy as a stygian realm, inhabited by evil spirits.

She waited for the next command from her superiors. Agonizing seconds ticked by. Through the misty gases of the starcloud, Tesh saw Noah’s cocoon moving to a forward position, where General Nirella had ordered him to go. She thought of Noah’s child growing in her womb, and wondered if they would ever form a family—the three of them. She desperately hoped so, but nothing about her relationship with Noah was conventional. Besides, war was filled with uncertainties, and too many of the possibilities were not good.

Tesh had lived for more than seven centuries, and in that time had dated men of many star systems and galactic races. But never before had she met anyone even remotely like Noah Watanabe, nor had she ever experienced feelings for any of them that approached those she felt for him.

And, while she could remember details going back all that time, she had noticed a recent compression of the memories that mattered most to her, the ones she kept calling up and thinking about over and over. The kisses she had shared with Noah, their brief intimacy, the comforting sound of his voice, the caring way he looked at her with his hazel eyes, which he still had even after his flesh changed.

Since meeting him, the original racial difference between them had widened, as Noah had set forth on a path of evolving into something else. She only hoped that he was not evolving into some
one
else.

At the very heart of her feelings, his appearance didn’t really matter to her. She cared much more about what was inside, what he was thinking and where he was going with his life. She cared about what sort of a father he might be for their child.

Tears welled up in Tesh’s eyes, and ran down her cheeks. She tasted salt.

I must be strong
, she thought. The tears stopped, and she steeled herself for battle.

* * * * *

The great weapon that Noah was about to use and the entire scenario seemed so far beyond the range of possibility that he wondered if he was going completely mad, if he had been infected with a terrible disease of the mind. His own twin sister had gone insane and had died hideously. Noah recalled the dermex injection she had stabbed into him, claiming it was her own blood. It had been her last act of hatred toward him before dying. Could Francella’s vicious presence be alive inside him at this very moment, and dictating his very perceptions? It remained an unanswered question, just one of many.

I need to control chaos,
he thought, trying to bring himself back, knowing that the monsters of the undergalaxy really were coming.
Order must emerge from chaos. In this galaxy, and in my own psyche.

Abruptly, Noah felt a shift in time and space around him, and he saw fast-forward images through Francella’s eyes as she committed vile acts—scheming to murder their father, stealing his assets, hacking at and stabbing Noah. He felt her hatreds, her twisted views, her petty jealousies and self-serving plots. He felt how much she loathed her twin. It was not the first time he had seen through her eyes—or seemed to—and he wondered if this had something to do with the blood she had injected in him, or to the fact that twins were said to have paranormal linkages.

The eyes shifted; the
view
shifted, revealing a horrific threat to the Tulyan Starcloud.…

Chapter Seventy-Three

In some circumstances, it is better to perish than to survive.

If that be the case in our hour of crisis, may death come quickly to us all.

—Transmitted thoughts, from a Tulyan webtalker

Like an earthquake in space, a terrible upheaval consumed the Tulyan Starcloud. Once a haven like none other in the known galaxy, it was anything but that now. Having slipped out of the control of mindlink, comets and meteors streaked wildly through the mists of the starcloud, threatening the planets, the Liberator fleet, and the Council Chamber.

Focusing and refocusing their telepathic waves, the Tulyans succeeded in diverting the incoming missiles one at a time, but more kept coming. A huge meteor—the size of a small moon—barely missed hitting the planet Tulé.

All across the starcloud, Liberator warships fired their weapons at the incoming objects, hitting some and diverting them, but missing others. With the attentions of the defenders on the larger objects, meteorites got through and crashed into dwellings and community structures. Flaming embers hit the floating Council Chamber.

Noah’s cocoon was in motion, moving independently of his commands. It was a survival mode in the amalgamated podships that enabled him to focus on other, more pressing concerns. The cocoon moved through the mists in great graceful patterns, avoiding the celestial storm. It rose heavenward, then circled over the misty veils and three planets of the starcloud, taking evasive action as necessary.

From his paranormal, web-linked observation and listening post Noah hesitated, sensing that he should not fire his great weapon at the incoming objects yet, that he needed to save it for exactly the right moment. But he couldn’t just stand by and watch this. At Yaree, he had minimized the power and spread it around to detonate the invading Parviis.

He realized he was having a gut reaction now, and he had to ask himself if it was relevant, or if it was a useless remnant of his Human form, something that should be discarded. As he watched the cosmic storm all around him, he could hardly stand it anymore. He had to fire the weapon to divert some of those incoming objects.

But still he hesitated.

Through Timeweb, Noah heard one of the Elders—Dabiggio—cry out in dismay, “The demons of the undergalaxy are breaking through!” Other council members shouted that this couldn’t possibly be happening, that the starcloud was supposed to be the strongest place in the entire galaxy, since mindlink had been improved dramatically by a concerted effort of the defenders.

The Council Chamber was hit again, this time by a small comet that skipped off the bulbous underside, tearing loose a jagged piece of the inverted dome. All over the starcloud, thousands of Tulyans were fleeing for the podships and attempting to board them. But in the chaos most vessels were having to take off before they were fully loaded. Above Tulé, four were hit by meteorites and larger objects, destroying them. Noah heard the screams of the dying Aopoddae and their Tulyan passengers.

Unable to wait any longer, he reduced the power of the great weapon, focused it, and fired bursts of primal green light in multiple directions. All over the starcloud and beyond it, comets, meteors, and meteorites exploded and veered away. A small number of them kept coming, but Noah thought the Tulyans should be able to deter the rest of them with mindlink. He drew the power inward, felt it building up around him again.

Now his humanoid eyes looked at the oncoming Web Spinners, amorphous shapes that were closer than ever, only a minute or two away, surging past one star system after another. Why weren’t they coming into focus? Kre’n had said they were like spiders, and had exoskeletons that scaled up to amazing proportions. Did they look like spiders, then? So far, he’d only gotten glimpses of long legs beneath dark bodies that almost seemed fluid, as their shapes bent one way and another. Perhaps this was yet another form of shapeshifting.

Again Noah felt the visceral sensation telling him not to fire, not yet. He had to wait for precisely the right moment, and really cut loose with everything he had. This time, Noah went with the feeling, and hoped he had not made a mistake by activating the weapon earlier to protect the starcloud. He felt the power continue to build up around him, and it did not seem to him that he had damaged anything. It could keep going up and up.

But in a matter of moments he reached a point where he didn’t feel his brain could encompass any more of the tremendous energy. Although his thoughts extended far and could accomplish a great deal, he still had some connection to his past as a Human, and he sensed that there were distinct limitations on what he could do, and that he should not go beyond certain boundaries. But what were those boundaries? His expanded mind would not, or could not, tell him.

Noah felt like a child-god, one who was not able to understand or fully control his powers. But he had no more time to learn, and needed to utilize what he had immediately. It was the most severe form of on-the-job training imaginable, because any mistake he made would have immense consequences.

He felt the momentum of time around him, a tidal wave of events pushing him toward an unavoidable climax. He looked in all directions at once, absorbed information from everywhere simultaneously.

The dark creatures kept coming, and in anticipation of this the Tulyans were evacuating the Council Chamber. Noah recognized the face of Eshaz on the prow of one of the ships that was taking on passengers. That vessel began to move quickly and headed away with others, going in the opposite direction from the approaching Web Spinners. Incoming thoughts from webtalkers told Noah that the Tulyans were setting up a new defensive bastion on their largest planet, Tulé. Due to changes in cosmic conditions, this would be the most powerful place in the starcloud, where they intended to make a last-ditch telepathic stand against the attackers.

Noah saw a weak spot in the galactic infrastructure near the abandoned Council Chamber, a fraying of the green filigree that would soon send the chamber tumbling one direction or another. Nothing like that had ever happened before in this region of space.

Then, to his amazement, the approaching Web Spinners began to disappear before reaching the starcloud, one after the other. From his vantage over the misty Tulyan domain, Noah saw that the creatures were entering a timehole. In seconds, they were gone, and the hole closed.

But near the Council Chamber he saw a bulge in the barely visible fabric of space, and remembered seeing that effect in the Kandor Sector, right before the creatures poured through from the undergalaxy. Now he noticed other bulges appearing around the starcloud, with the biggest of all forming around Tulé, where podships full of evacuees were still arriving. To his dismay, he realized that Eshaz was piloting one of them.

And Noah had no time to do anything about it.

The surface of Tulé cracked open like an eggshell. Something monstrous and black pushed its way through molten lava and crust of the world, a creature that was much larger than the others. It had long legs, which waved in the sky and struck several podships at they tried to take off, causing them to crash. The planet cracked open further, and Noah saw smaller creatures, scurrying out of fissures. Near the Council Chamber, other creatures emerged and knocked the chamber aside, sending its severely damaged remains drifting through the starcloud.

The earlier Web Spinners had been scouts. Now many more of them were coming out of the undergalaxy, and the mother of them all was a hundred times the size of Noah’s cocoon, with a head and body of odd geometric angles, and yellow-ember eyes that burned as bright as suns. Its legs looked and moved like those of a spider, but its body, just breaking through the crust of the planet, was diamond-shaped, as if cut from an immense, precious stone. It was the darkest shade of black he had ever seen, and seemed to absorb light into it and make it disappear, like a black hole in motion.

The monsters clustered on webbing over the ruined world, having scattered Tulé and its atmosphere into space. Liberator warships attacked the creatures, firing ion cannons, nuclear projectiles, and a variety of other space weapons. But nothing did any good, as the creatures ignored the small blasts.

From his high vantage Noah was sickened to see the torn bodies of Humans, Tulyans, and Mutatis floating in space.

The largest Web Spinner, now free, began to climb the web toward Noah’s cocoon, but got on a weak strand that broke, causing a momentary delay before it found another.

The
Queen of the Undergalaxy
, he thought.

Other smaller creatures followed her, but even the smallest of them were as big as his cocoon.

Seeing through his many eyes in the amalgamation around him, Noah’s eyes displayed multiple images of the spiders crawling up the web toward him. It was like an array of video screens … all showing horror. The creatures were picking up speed.

Noah focused the primal-energy weapon and fired a blinding green blast that was much more powerful than he had used to destroy the HibAdu armada. But this time it only bounced off the creatures, without seeming to harm them.

Desperately, he increased the energy level by several factors—beyond what he had earlier thought he could stand. He continued firing, but with very little effect on the monsters of the nether realm. The blasts slowed them, but they didn’t seem to be harmed at all, and they kept coming.…