Traveler in the Dark

23

Issk'ath stood at the bottom of the ladder. It faced the Wolfinger's open door, but the humans had long disappeared from view. They'd turned off the data stream but Issk'ath could still hear their raised voices from deeper within. It tried not to listen. It was apparent that the humans did not want to give it their data. Issk'ath debated whether it ought to tell them that the filament was no longer necessary. That it had created a remote link to the Wolfinger's system and the explosion had done little except destroy their equipment. Deception was against Issk'ath's inclinations. But omission was not. And the humans had proved that they were willing to deceive. It would be prudent to hold back the knowledge of its abilities until Issk'ath was certain that secrecy was no longer useful.

Three of the humans returned to the doorway. Emery was among them. Oxwell and Martham, biologists, offered Dorothy. "Emery, your casing is incomplete," said Issk'ath as Rebecca began descending the ladder.

"You mean my helmet?" asked Rebecca. "It was meant to keep any microbes out of my lungs and the Wolfinger. But the door is open now. And Dorothy—" a strange squeak erupted from her and she stopped. Oxwell placed a gloved hand on her shoulder. Issk'ath could hear her pulse speed up.

"You are in distress," it said.

"My friend died," said Rebecca. She was excreting. Was it to signal the others of danger? Issk'ath swiveled its head around. There was nothing overtly threatening in the area, except for the fire they had created themselves.

"Do you need help with the— with Dorothy?" asked Martham.

Rebecca shook her head. "Not unless you want to."

"I'd prefer not. But I will help if it will make it easier."

"No, Beatrice, you need to go check the lab. Let Spike go. Try to get some work done, maybe. I expect we won't be here much longer, and the Keseburg needs every scrap of information we can find."

Martham nodded and strode off toward the lab. Issk'ath followed Rebecca as she picked her way over to the ruined isolation chamber. It was still in flames. "Can't get to her like this, Rebecca. We need to put it out," said Oxwell, shielding her face with an arm.

Rebecca flipped her filament on. "Liu, can you switch on the Tranrob? We've still got fire out here." She pulled Oxwell back by an elbow and turned to Issk'ath. "You might want to stand back, this will be pretty loud."

Issk'ath scuttled back just as the air shattered and thrummed with a deep rumble. Its tympana became unstable and Issk'ath switched them off to prevent damage. The flames seemed to evaporate from the remains of the isolation chamber.

Rebecca was shouting something, but Issk'ath could not hear it without the tympana. The air pressure shifted and Issk'ath cautiously turned its auditory sensors back on. The sound was gone, the fire out. Oxwell picked her way back toward the shriveled shadow that had once been Dorothy Hackford. Rebecca followed her, grabbing Oxwell's hand when she reached her. They stood in silence for a long time. Issk'ath circled the charred metal bed to look at them.

"It is only a shed casing," it said, confused.

"We don't molt, Issk'ath," said Rebecca. "When we shed our casing, we— we're gone."

"But Dorothy isn't gone. She's here. I took her."

"Can she hear us?" asked Oxwell looking up at the towering bug. She was excreting as well.

"Yes, if she chooses."

"I'm so sorry, Dorothy," said Oxwell. "I panicked. I didn't know what to say. I wasn't fast enough with the defibrillator—"