Youth is Wasted on the Young p. 17
This end of the hay pile debouched into a long low overhang, like one of those caves that cliff dwellers built their cities in, only smaller. There was a long, troughlike pond of water in the floor against the back wall, where the horses were drinking.
Water! She'd never fully realized the importance of water before.
She looked up leerily at the Wirrn above her. He looked at her a moment, then tugged at the horses' manes and drew them away from the hay. Keeping an eye on him she scrambled out of the hay. He watched her, but did nothing.
She had hay sticking out everywhere, her hair, her shirt, her hose. She must look like a startled scarecrow.
Backing away, keeping an eye on the Wirrn and on the atrium opening beyond him for any of his friends, she sidled over to the pond. Schwillic had emerged beside her and was scuttling along the base of the wall, keeping his "back" to it. Stanley was apparently waiting in the hay to see what happened.
Amy knelt down and scooped up a handful of water, still watching, she raised it to her mouth, then stopped. What if it was drugged? These Wirrn were known to gas people, drugs wouldn't be beyond them.
Her throat ached, her caked nose twitched at the smell of fresh water. She swallowed dryly. The water dribbled away between her fingers as she thought.
A pair of horses stood beyond her, farther down the pond, slurping greedily. It didn't seem to be affecting them. They weren't sleepy or slow, and they'd fled fast enough when she'd burst into the hive unexpectedly.
She noticed the horses looked young. Two year olds by the look of them, horses, but not fully mature. She looked out over the rest of the herd, beyond the shade of the overhang, and realized all the horses looked young. But the few buffalo and deer didn't.
Of course, the horses were Earth livestock, they'd probably been adapted just like the Feyanorans. The buffalo and deer must be local.
Shaking the speculation out of her head, her eyes snapped back to the Wirrn. He wasn't paying any attention to her, tending to another horse. He'd let the first horses go, and they were now snuffling at the hay pile again, shoving at each other for the best treats.
She shrugged. She scooped up another handful of water and tasted it. Fresh, sweet, and even cold. She swallowed it down and scrubbed her wet hand over her face. She dipped up some more and drank until she was satisfied. She turned to find Schwillic standing guard beside her.
Reassured, she turned to the pond and splashed water on her face, scrubbing off the dirt and hay, and sluiced water over her hands and forearms, careful to keep her bandage dry.
Feeling much more human, she stood up, and found Stanley had joined them. She kept an eye on the Wirrn, and any possible guards, while Stanley drank and cleaned up. She absently brushed the hay off.
She heard a splash and turned just in time to see Schwillic sink in the water, do a quick spin, and climb back out, looking much pinker, a bit plumper, and clean.
"Stay behind me," Amy whispered to them, then cautiously approached the Wirrn. She ducked her head to see out into the atrium beyond, where a few Wirrn flew around tending the egg cells.
-----
The Wirrn didn't seem disturbed by their presence. And he hadn't called for the guards. He wasn't ignoring them, just getting on with his work.
Amy nerved herself up and stalked up to him. She kept deep in the shadow of the overhang, where no searching Wirrn would easily see her. "What are the horses for?"
The Wirrn turned from where it was studying the leg of a limping horse. "Breeding," he said.
"I thought that's why you kidnapped the humans?" Amy said, crossing her arms belligerently. It was easier to be brave when she was annoyed. And she still remembered being picked up and dangled like a helpless worm. This Wirrn didn't look as aggressive, but it was still a foot and a half taller than her, with huge insectoid eyes.
"Not everyone agrees with the Swarm leader’s plans," it said calmly. "Some of us are uncomfortable laying our eggs in another sentient species. I convinced the Swarm leader that a control group of the human's herbivores would allow the more reluctant to breed in the traditional manner, as well as provide a control group to compare with the human breeding." He waved one long foreleg at the atrium. Amy's eyes followed the sweep of his chitinous "arm" and noticed that all the egg cells on the ground-level were three times larger than all the cells tiered above them. Large enough for a horse. In fact, the alcove she was standing in seemed to be a section where the lowest tiers of egg cells had been removed, or never built, to provide a natural control area for the horses, with the water and hay.
Her eye was drawn to activity on the other end of the hive floor, acres away. A few Wirrn were crouched there, over something, apparently feeding, the dirt was stained rusty red. An abattoir. The horses weren't just for breeding.
"I thought you lot didn't need food or water?" she asked.
"All things that develop in a terrestrial sphere need food and water to grow and heal themselves. We have developed to be very efficient, and can go for long periods between planets. But, all things need sustenance. Does it disturb you?"
Amy started to nod, then her eyes fell on one of the bison. She enjoyed a good hamburger as well as the next person. She swallowed back her retort.
Stanley poked her in the kidney. She jumped. "What?!" She half spun, and glared at him.
"You can understand what he's saying?" he asked, still keeping her larger bulk between him and the Wirrn, out of arm's reach.
"Yes!" she answered, peeved. She rubbed her back.
"How?"
Amy sighed. "It's a trick the Doctor taught me."
"So, now you're friends with him?" the teen asked incredulously.
"No!" Amy exclaimed, indignantly. "Yes," she said. "I don't know!" She scrubbed a hand over her face. "He doesn't seem as bad as the rest."
"Not bad!" the boy drew himself up to his full four and a half feet of height, pointing. "He's killing people, and turning them into, them!"
He whirled on the Wirrn, "Why are you doing this?" the boy cried.
The Wirrn cocked his head, and wiggled his antenna, not understanding.
"He wants to know why you're doing this," Amy said. Stanley started to say something else, but Schwillic stomped on his foot. The boy glared down at the tripod, but kept his silence.
The Wirrn answered calmly. "Not all of us agree with the swarm leader. But he is very old, he has survived much longer than any of us here. The size of his years gives weight to his words."
"Not to mention the size of his size," Amy said.
"Yes," the Wirrn answered. "Not many Wirrn live to gain his stature. His ideas are radical, but he is the swarm leader. Many follow him in the hopes of gaining new breeding grounds. In the dream of stability, of a new migration rather than the endless wandering that has been our lot since humans came to Andromeda.
"I see no need for conflict, space is vast and even humans cannot be everywhere. I bear no ill will. But then, I was not born of a soldier on a battlefield. Many hold that to be the swarmleader's strength, his knowledge of humans and war. And they want such borrowed skill for themselves."
"But... Farmers? They don't know anything about war!" Amy protested, swinging an arm at the thousands of egg cells around them.
"They know technology. They know what humans know. And they know how to hold the land. Even I see value in the idea of being able to have a stable source of food and herbivores at the end of a long migration. To not have to rely on chance that there will be suitable herds on a planet.
"To be able to return to a world of long established hives with pure springs and flourishing herds of sweet herbivores. As it was in the old days.
"Even I am not immune to such a dream. But while I believe there are worlds enough for all, that we can once again rebuild in peace what we once had, the swarm leader promises such things today. If he believes it must be taken and aggressively held against the humans, who can blame him?
“Too often have we been driven out. Many are tired of it and willing to try something radical and new for their dreams."
"But you don't share those dreams?" Amy asked.
"I do. But I do not see how peace can come from war. I bear you no ill will. I will not hamper you. But I cannot defy the swarm leader. War within or war without is still war. I want only peace and life. That does not come through conflict."
Amy smiled. "There was once a human who thought like you do. His name was Gandhi, he changed my world through peace. I hope you can do the same, for all our sakes.
"We'll go," Amy said, backing away. "We don't want to cause you any trouble, we just want to get out." Amy turned and gathered up Stanley and Schwillic with a gesture. Stanley was gaping at her.
"I never heard of Gandhi," he said as they ran.
"Yeah, well, it was before your time."
-----
They ducked around the end of the horse alcove and nipped into a corridor before any of the flying Wirrn could see them.
-----
They were finally getting something done, Rory thought with satisfaction.
He watched as the Marines checked their weapons and armor. He reached behind him and made sure the gun was still tucked in the waistband of his jeans.
He turned on the tarmac and watched the chopper blades deploy. He'd been in the ship the last time and hadn't been able to see them, they'd been powered down every other time.
The stubby "projectors" looked like the stubs left after a regular helicopter's blades broke off. Just four short "ends" on a rotor above the bulbous craft.
It gave the helicopter an odd, clumpy appearance, like a fly with its wings torn off. Yet the shimmer of the forcefields, in use, like now, gave it the shimmering, shifting appearance of a controlled borealis, as if it had magical transparent dragonfly wings. The force field "blades" extended out much longer than regular helicopter blades.
"Activate stealth mode," Tildaith said into the mic in his uniform collar.
The blades suddenly deformed, twisting and joining up into a sphere surrounding the craft and radiating outward, it swirled like oil on water for a moment, like a soap bubble, then abruptly vanished, taking the chopper with it.
Rory could see directly to the other side of the tarmac.
"Good enough, Doctor?" Tildaith said with satisfaction.
"Very good," the Doctor said, grinning. He loved a light show. "Very elegant."
"Elegant, yes," Tildaith said, he muttered into his mic and the field collapsed, returning the squat black chopper to the airfield. "But we can't use weapons while we're cloaked. It screws up the targeting sensors and manual firing is randomly deflected. Anything going through the field is scattered, that's why it works. And why it doesn't work," he said with patient disgust. "Our people are working on it."
"Well," the Doctor said, sticking his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels in satisfaction, "The whole point of stealth is to be able to avoid confrontation anyway."
"So why are we testing this now?" Rory asked, antsy to be on his way.
"Because it would be foolish to go on a stealth mission, only to discover at the last minute that your stealth equipment wasn't working," Tildaith said.
"Ah. Good point," Rory said.
"We're likely going to have to dodge patrols to get close to that hive. I don't expect it to be easy," the Colonel said.
"A good attitude, " the Doctor agreed. "Always expect trouble."
"Yeah, I'm learning that," Rory said, giving the Doctor a gimlet look. The Doctor just raised his eyebrows at him.
-----
They managed to dodge into a deserted side corridor without being seen. The search appeared to have wound down, or moved on, but like a mouse in a cat house, Amy wasn't betting on it.
This hallway was lined with egg cells, as most of them seemed to be, each bin with a tube leading down into it. Last night she had assumed the dark tubes were some sort of chutes, for delivering grain possibly, extra food for the grubs. But each tube was now shining with light.
Amy stopped to study an empty cell.
"Come on, we haven't got time for this!" Stanley said, hopping impatiently from foot to foot, his head busy swiveling both ways, watching for Wirrn.
Amy stepped into the empty bin and looked up into the tube. The inside was bright, and completely clean, no grain stuck to the walls, and there was no evidence of anything else being shoved down it. The tube seemed entirely designed to deliver light. The inside of the tube wasn't mirrored metal, but a sort of chalky white, fronted with a clear, almost nacreous substance, like the inside of a snail's shell.
It wasn't completely smooth, but subtly rippled, as if it hadn't been drilled out, but burrowed out. Considering the size of the grubs she'd seen, she didn't want to think about what had burrowed it out.
She pulled her head out and shot a triumphant grin at Stanley, remembering all the shining tubes that decorated the walls of the hive like a Christmas tree.
"These aren't chutes," she said with an air of discovery. "They're solar tubes, bringing sunlight down for the grubs."
"So?"
"We could climb out this way!"
His eyes riveted on her. "You're mad! That's hundreds of feet, straight up!"
"Do you have wings?" Amy demanded, waving a hand toward the atrium and its opening dozens of stories above them.
"No." He scowled, stuffing his hands in his pockets defensively.
"Do you want to try to ride one of those things bareback to get out of here?" she asked.
"No Thank You!" Stanley said emphatically.
"Then we climb," Amy finished.
-----
"Why are they so big?" Stanley asked, climbing into the cell with her and lifting Schwillic inside. "The light in our cell was only about a foot across."
"I don't know," Amy said, looking up into the three foot wide tube. "Maybe the grubs need more light. The Doctor said they need sunlight."
"Wait a minute." Stanley protested. "How do you know it's not sealed off at the top? Aren't solar tubes usually sealed off to keep out rain? We're not going to be able to chop through with just your pocket knife."
"Yeah, but this stuff isn't actually very clear, if they sealed off the top with this they'd lose a lot of the light. Besides, when was the last time you saw a bee hive with windows?"
He gritted his teeth at her and glared. "All right. But if we get to the top and can't get out, it will be all your fault."
"It usually is. Come on."
Amy went first. Once she was braced, Stanley boosted Schwillic up into the tube after her. Amy had assumed climbing would be easiest for the tripod, with three legs he could just zoom up the tubes, but when she held him up, he didn't have quite enough reach to brace against the sides, his legs weren't long enough.
"I'm sorry," he wilted with disappointment in her hands. "I'm not going to be able to make it," he apologized.
"Nonsense," Amy said roundly. "We're not leaving you here. I'll carry you." She plumped the little alien down in her miniskirted lap. She took an experimental step up. She braced her feet against the opposite side of the tube and pushed up, sliding her back up and bracing again before moving the other foot. The ripples helped. And Schwillic wasn't too much in the way. "You okay, Stanley?" she called down.
There was a childish grunt below her. "Yeah, just get moving, I can't go anywhere with your fanny hanging over my face."
Amy grumbled. "There's plenty of guys who'd love to have a view of my fanny."
"Whatever," he said below her, with supreme adolescent unconcern, "Just get moving."
Amy rolled her eyes. "Hold on, Schwillic."
She started inching her way up.
Only several hundred feet to go.
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