The Ashes of Worlds - Kevin J. Anderson [127]
Rlinda’s stomach lurched as the squirming mass shifted, changed. She wanted nothing more than to run . . . until she realized that the components were pulling together into a sculpture of a face. A human face.
The face of Davlin Lotze.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
The head was like a colossal statue filling much of the central vault. Davlin’s simulated lips moved. “Rlinda Kett.” The voice was not Davlin’s; it wasn’t even close to human. “I issued orders to guarantee your safety.”
“Very hospitable of you, Davlin.” She fell back on humor as a means of self-protection.
“I am not . . . entirely Davlin. My mind encompasses all of the Klikiss in my hive. I have destroyed most other subhives . . . refused to incorporate their DNA . . . refused to fission.”
Margaret spoke to Rlinda. “I’ll explain Klikiss reproduction to you later. It’s quite bizarre.”
“I can’t wait.” Pushing back her fear, Rlinda forced herself to inch closer to the eerie sculptured head.
“I have one more subhive to destroy. That will be soon. Then I will be the One Breedex.”
Rlinda looked at Margaret, then back at the hive mind. “Congratulations. What happens next?”
“Then I will do a great thing,” the Davlin-breedex said. “I will be much more powerful than ever before.”
“Davlin conquers the universe? Doesn’t really sound like you.”
“I am not Davlin.”
In a low voice Margaret said, “He changes with every subhive he crushes, even if he doesn’t assimilate it. But I think he means the Klikiss will exterminate the black robots next.”
“Getting rid of the black robots doesn’t sound like a bad idea to me. And what happens to all the other Klikiss subhives he’s defeated? Do they join his army, does he kill them? What?”
“In this case, I’m not sure.”
“The Pym subhive is nearly destroyed,” the breedex said.
Margaret explained what she had learned over her years of research among them. “Left to themselves, the Klikiss would sweep like locusts across any planet they find — including human-inhabited worlds. But Davlin thinks he’s strong enough to stop them. We have to pray that he — not the breedex of some other subhive — becomes the One Breedex.”
Rlinda waited, but heard only the rustling, buzzing, and skittering of millions of small creatures. She wanted Davlin to tell her that he was not evil, but the simulated face said nothing. “Remember that old cliché about picking the lesser of two evils?” Feeling immense sadness, she murmured, “Sorry I’m late. I meant to rescue you.”
“And I meant to escape intact. Instead . . . I have had to adapt.”
The mosaic form of the man’s head shivered and vibrated as if the pieces had lost their resolve to remain together in a particular pattern. Rlinda could hear a great flurry of Klikiss moving outside in the hive city. Something big must be happening.
The breedex was not forthcoming with explanations. Davlin’s mind — or whatever part of it remained — was preoccupied with some great turmoil.
After a few tense moments, a procession of Klikiss warriors marked with crimson and maroon splotches marched into the presence of the breedex. They carried the heads of four enormous bugs, silver with jagged black stripes like lightning bolts across their horned head-crests. Ganglia and dripping cords hung from the severed necks; the faceted eyes were dull.
The warriors presented the four dead creatures as an offering, and the trophies were placed amongst the other piled clutter and debris. More warriors streamed in, crowding the vaulted chamber and chittering in celebration.
Margaret explained to Rlinda, “Those are domates from a rival subhive.”
“Does that mean something important just happened?”
The writhing, shifting mass remained indistinguishable, the human personality drowned within the chaos, but finally the crude face formed itself from the squirming components once more.
“EDF battleships severely damaged the Pym subhive. They killed several domates, but departed without destroying the breedex.” The Davlin face paused. “We