Malachi looked bad, although not nearly as bad as Jamey had. He was half-delirious, burning up with fever, and there was something about him so adorably helpless that I couldn’t help but wonder if you were playing for sympathy. Considering the situation, that would be a very human thing to do.
I’d been tending him for several days when Clive had more bad news for me. “They’re serious. The whole CenGov armada is gathering at Tasea, not just one of the regional sub-fleets.”
At first, I didn’t get it. “But it’s still a stand off. They can’t win if they don’t fight. And in order to fight, they’ll have to come here. And if they come here, they’ll lose.”
“You’re positing that Ashtara can handle it. He isn’t exactly in top form.”
“He’ll do what needs to be done.”
“Have you considered that we haven’t ever faced their full strength? The fleet that General Panic used to attack us before was really a backwater patrol staffed with incompetent, reject soldiers.”
“Those Cybrids were incompetent rejects?” This was news to me. The battle of Starbright Point was the hardest I’ve ever faced. It almost destroyed the Atlas Tree.
Clive slapped his forehead. “Tara! That technology was second rate three decades ago! You’ve never even seen the elite troops, have you?”
“Elite troops.” It occurred to me that Clive could’ve warned me sooner.
“Not only do they have greater strength and physical endurance, but their senses are enhanced – not as good as a Cu’enashti, but still pretty damn good. And some have been modified for special combat conditions – like functioning in space. They’re basically a nervous system encased in an android-shaped short-range fighter. The purpose is to lay mines in the paths of enemy battleships. They’re so small they get past the auto-defenses. And if they get completely through, they’ll board the surviving ships.”
This did not make me happy – but then again, I didn’t intend to fight them. “Ash will incapacitate them with alchemy. CenGov will just waste a lot of expensive hardware.”
Clive shook his head. “Even if Ash can handle all of them – they’ll be like a swarm of whornets – consider this: it isn’t like a ship where he can make a few minor modifications scotching the drives and weapons while leaving life support intact. If he fucks up the elites enough to stop them, they’ll be left drifting in space. Think that General Panic will bother to rescue them? It’s a death sentence. Do you believe Ashhole is callous enough to condemn them like that – even Cillian?”
Clive had a point. You’re remarkably – hmm, is the better word “humanitarian” or “squeamish”? “Then the Skarsian troops will have to take care of them. It’s not like we’re helpless, Clive. We’re a warrior people. And stop calling him Ashhole. You’re talking about my husband.”
“A warrior people with vastly inferior technology and a greatly outnumbered fleet. Face it – the only card you’ve got to play is Ash-tara, the incredible talking tree. Is Malachi still delirious?”
“I’d probably better go check on him.” It was a good excuse to escape from this depressing conversation, anyway.
But when I got back to our room, Malachi was gone. “Hey, Tara.” It was Davy’s voice. Then we were finally out of the zone of Eden’s influence. I was relieved, and yet disappointed. I hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye to Malachi. I rather liked him. In fact, I could fall in love with that one.
That’s a joke. He’d have to stand in line. The term embarrassment of riches doesn’t even begin to cover it, Ash.
Davy, on the other hand…I had a few choice words for Davy. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused us?”
“Um, sorry?” said Davy sheepishly. He smiled like a mischievous boy who had broken an expensive vase – not like a man who had created a new race of beings and plunged us into an intergalactic war.
I considered telling him that an apology couldn’t begin to be adequate, but what would be the point? In certain ways, he’s so childlike that it’s difficult to stay angry. Besides, I had vowed to work on keeping my temper. “How are you feeling?” I asked instead.
“Like compost. I’m sweating so much, the sheets are totally gross – almost as bad as the ones in Tommy’s flat. You didn’t ever do him on that bed, did you? Personal grooming has gone down the toilet these days. Mushrooms. Tara, do you think that mushrooms are ugly? Like having zits or something?”
“I’ve always liked mushrooms. I think they’re cute – and some are tasty. They give Goliath character – honestly, that tree is just a little too perfect. Atlas, on the other hand, has character to spare. Mushrooms might be gilding the lily a bit. But I suppose we’ll have to deal with it.”
“I never understood that phrase – I think a gilded lily would be pretty cool. Oh, Malachi left you a letter. You’d probably better read it. It looks important.”
I picked up the datapad Davy indicated. “Important doesn’t cover it,” I said, slumping into a sitting position next to the bed. I remember Suibhne telling me that when he saw me for the first time, the whole universe made sense to him. Reading that letter was the same experience for me. I finally understood what you mean by “Tara’s destiny” – it wasn’t that the Matriarchy was meant to rule the galaxy. I should’ve known it wouldn’t be something that banal. I had been seeing through the lens of human ambition.
“Here,” said Davy, handing me a pot of golden lilies. “They’re not really gilded – if I just put gilt on the surface, it would stunt the growth, and when they did grow, it would crack and flake off. So I had to make the gold a part of the molecular structure. They’re actually gold lilies, not gilded lilies. Hey, why are you crying?”