Metal Swarm - Kevin J. Anderson [16]
'The centuries of all-out hive wars devastate countless planets, and so the whole race, the breedexes, the domates, and all the sub-breeds bury themselves and hibernate while planetary ecosystems recover. When the Klikiss awaken again, the newly created subhives start the cycle all over again.'
Orli made the connection so quickly, Margaret was astonished it her cleverness. 'That must mean other subhives are out there light now, if this is a new Swarming.'
'Yes, Orli. Many more. And although this breedex on Llaro still considers me interesting, I have no influence over any of the others. Those subhives will attack and kill any other infestations they find.'
'What do you mean, infestations? Other Klikiss?'
'Klikiss. Or black robots. Or humans.'
Orli crossed her arms over her chest, brave and defiant. 'So how did you survive among them, then? Why didn't they kill you?'
Margaret was both wistful and frightened. 'For one thing, I had a song the breedex had never heard.' She reached into a pocket in her new singlesuit - a durable colony uniform that had replaced her ragged old outfit - and withdrew a small metal box with gears and tiny metal pins. She wound the key and held it in the palm of her hand. 'An antique music box. My son gave it to me long ago.' The melody of the popular old English folksong Greensleeves began to rise through the air.
'I play music, too.' Orli suddenly sounded bright. 'I have synthesizer strips and write my own melodies. My father wanted me to take professional lessons. He said I was good enough to be a performer, travelling from world to world.' She frowned. 'I still play for some of the colonists here. They like it, especially in the evenings.'
Margaret tilted the small music box, watching sunlight reflect from its tarnished metal surface. 'This saved my life. The warriors would have killed me, the domates would have consumed and assimilated me, but because of this song--so alien, so different, so unlike anything the breedex had ever incorporated - they considered me a powerful but non-threatening breedex of a sort. They kept me to study, and I studied them in turn. Once they realized that my “hive” had also been destroyed by the black robots, they accepted me as a non-enemy.'
The tune slowed as the music box's spring wound down. Margaret carefully, reverently, put it back in her pocket. 'If only Anton knew the true value of that gift he gave me. If only Anton knew so many things.'
Eight
Anton Colicos
'Come with me, Rememberer Anton. It will be glorious!' Yazra'h grinned at him, gripping his shoulder so hard it hurt. 'Listen to what the Adar and I propose to the Mage-Imperator.'
Jora'h's oldest daughter was tall and lean, with a mane of coppery hair and golden skin, she was beautiful, muscular, and (Anton felt) intimidating as hell. Against all common sense, she seemed to be attracted to the human scholar, wanting far more from him than he ever meant to give.
Anton and Rememberer Vao'sh had been sitting together discussing the phoenix legend - fire and rebirth as a metaphor for the cycle of life - in a long reflective hall in the Prism Palace. Tall, gossamer ferntrees stood in deep planters, soaking up the bright light that streamed through multicoloured panes.
But Yazra'h found them and put an end to their conversation. Without answering questions, she led the way with long strides, practically dragging them along. 'Some stories have yet to be written.'
Vao'sh accompanied his human friend. 'Then perhaps we shall find ourselves part of yet another tale.'
Anton wasn't sure how much more excitement he wanted. 'I was looking forward to spending more time translating the Saga.'
He wanted to go back to Earth, too, by now, he even missed the academic grind. He had spent years working on a biography of his parents, the famous xeno-archaeologists Louis and Margaret Colicos, before accepting this 'temporary' assignment