Cath

The Cradle

Freyr was slightly surprised by the response. She’d called him to talk and had once again been deflected. As an expert on machine intelligence, she knew that most of the AIs on Outremer were exceptionally resilient. She’d taken part in working groups that helped define some elements of the psyche for newer models. But that had been a long time ago now, who knows what advances had been made since? The Cradle had been the only AI in her focus for the last few years.

It struck her that the way Demeter had rebooted just now seemed slightly irregular. It sometimes rebooted when it was undergoing finetuning or maintenance, but the timings seemed a little bit too perfect. Going offline at the exact moment that woman appeared? Vreta had mentioned the Skinners, but truth be told it wasn’t them she was worried about. At this stage, she was inclined to agree with their quest for zero Cradle integration.

Freyr really did not feel like going outside right now, but she was desperate to hear Vreta’s story. The pill she had just taken did seem to be working some magic too, as her appetite had made a rare return. She thought for a moment. “I know you’re a little way away, but there’s a street food market in Boycott Park. Would you meet me there? I don’t really feel up to going further afield. I don’t know what kind of things you enjoy, but the Gỏi cuốn there is to die for.” Freyr attempted a small laugh, but it got kind of caught in her throat. “If not tonight, then early tomorrow? I’m keen to hear the whole story before we’re asked for a statement.”

The Cradle

Eventually, Freyr put her pistol back in it’s holster and manually bolted the door. She wandered back into the living area, her eyes transfixed on the now empty armchair. Her breaths arrived in ragged gulps, and she realised her heart was racing. She shakily picked up the canister of pills and examined the prescription label. It had her name, address and dose instructions all printed out. Take one daily, with food. She opened the lid and shook a pill out. Water wasn’t going to cut it, Freyr decided, so she pulled a bottle of dark red wine from the rack, poured a large glass and took the pill with a big slug of that. She had no idea if the medication was really as they’d described, but at this point she didn’t care.

Taking a few more sips from her wine, Freyr sat down on her sofa and wondered what to do. Sleep seemed impossible at the moment. As horrific as today had been, she felt an undercurrent of inspiration struggling to break free. She’d had the first piece of evidence that her family may be alive. The creature had practically said so. She just needed to piece together all the information she had, and carry on building up a picture. Her thoughts drifted back to Vreta, the alien she’d found talking to that thing with David’s face. Why had he been there at exactly that time? Had he been looking for something too? The alien had obviously witnessed something, something Freyr needed to know.

With night falling on Babylon and rain still pattering against her tall windows, Freyr activated her comms implant while absently sketching the legs and body of the ant creature and sipping her wine. Now, what was the name of the hotel Vreta had said he was staying at. Syna something? She began trying combinations and quickly found it. She put in a call request with the hotel AI who forwarded it to Vreta’s room.

She grew nervous as she waited for him to pick up, not quite sure what to expect. When he finally did, she began talking quickly. “Hi, Mr Sori? It’s Freyr Lang here. Sorry to disturb you, but i can’t stop thinking about that moment back in the warehouse. Can we talk? As you may have realised, the reason I barged in like that was because it...it looked like my husband. He was abducted along with my daughter a few months ago and I've been searching for them. I’m not really sure what I'm looking for, but I believe any information you have about the creature could be useful. I’m a xeno-biologist, you see… I realise i’m gabbling now, but could we please just start from the top?”

The Cradle

After a cacophonous couple of hours, the silence from Freyr’s apartment closed in like water, miles under the ocean. She gasped for breath and jumped from the sofa. Seeing Karos Childermass sitting motionless in the armchair, Freyr pivoted and stumbled to her kitchen area. Grabbing up the same cup she’d dropped upon learning he was visiting, Freyr once again filled it with water. She managed one trembling sip before her feelings overwhelmed her.

She howled ugly sounds and cried into her cup, stooped over the kitchen worktop by her sink. Eventually, she slid down the side of the kitchen units to sit on the warm wooden floor, her face in her hands. After a couple of minutes, Demeter came online. “Welcome back, Dr Lang. I’ve detected that your guest, Dr Childermass, has suffered catastrophic brain trauma consistent with ‘Cradle Death’, and is now in a comatose state. I will inform the relevant medical autho-...manual override initiated.”

Freyr looked up, confused and teary, as everything powered down in her apartment. After nearly a minute, the lights blinked back on and Demeter returned. “Good afternoon, Dr Lang. There is a visitor for you approaching your front door. Would you like me to let them in?”

“What? No. Who are they?” Freyr demanded, wiping tears from her eyes and getting up off the floor. “They are here to extract the body of Dr Childermass and update your medications.” Demeter replied blankly.

Freyr moved quickly into the hallway and grabbed her pistol out of its holster on a coat hook. Creeping to the door’s peephole, she saw a woman with short blond hair and the same black uniform as the man with augmented eyes. “Good afternoon, Dr Lang. Please open the door, i know you’re here.” She looked right in the peephole. Realising she had basically no choice, Freyr opened the door a crack and stared defiantly out at her, hand tightening around her pistol which she kept out of sight. The woman smiled encouragingly. “Hi. I’m sorry about your colleague. I’m here to take him to cold storage and give you these." She held up a canister of small pills. “They’ll help you process your feelings and keep a more level head. If that’s what you want.”

Any fight that Freyr might have had seeped from her body. She opened her door fully and let the woman file into her apartment. She wasted no time, putting the pills down on the kitchen counter before walking over to Karos. Freyr followed her, finally summoning up the courage to kneel beside her boss’ inert body. She hated the way they’d left things, and wished she could turn back time. Karos had pulled a really manipulative move on her, getting her into the Cradle to confirm David’s likeness. But that didn’t cancel out ten years of mentorship and good memories. Freyr understood now just how desperate he was. She was also getting an idea of how much was at stake here. Through gritted teeth, she resolved to not let his death be in vain. She gripped his hand and gave it one last squeeze.

The woman attached a small module to the underside of Karos’ right shoe, which quickly unfurled into a strong plastic covering that tightly enveloped his whole body. She also unfolded a hovering stretcher, just like the one Freyr had pushed Major Osman along in barely an hour before. The module on Karos’ shoe lifted his whole body, wrapped in plastic, up into the air and gently laid it down on the stretcher. It then began maneuvering slowly out of the flat - the woman followed alongside it.

At the door, she stopped and turned to Freyr. “Again, i’m really sorry for everything you’ve been through. Please try to get some rest and drink some fluids. We’ll be in touch tomorrow morning.” She touched Freyr’s arm supportively, which she flinched away from. The woman and her stretcher then left her apartment, with Demeter closing the door behind them. Freyr stood staring at the door for a long time after they’d gone.

The Cradle

The man nodded, stretching his face into a taut smile. His eyes remained fixed on the alien. After a pregnant pause, he replied “Great, well, I think I have everything I need for today. We’ll take it from here. Thank you both - I’m terribly sorry this happened to you. Dr Lang, I know this must weigh particularly heavy on you." The man’s stare began unlocking all the horrors of the day, and Freyr felt her own eyes welling up with tears. “A liaison will be with you both tomorrow. Freyr, I took the liberty of signing off some military-grade PTSD meds for you; they should be arriving at your apartment soon. Get a good night’s rest, and we’ll be in touch.” He nodded, to signal that he’d finished talking.

Freyr got up shakily, desperate to get away from all these people. She turned to Vreta and mumbled something which may have sounded like ‘thank you for saving me’ before rushing to the centre of the room and logging out of the Cradle.

The Cradle

The fact that the creature may have been interfacing with exo-Cradle comms equipment rang alarm bells in Freyr's head. What could it have been doing? However, she held her tongue at this moment. It was abundantly clear that the alien was in a lot of pain, and didn't want to stick around to talk here. She couldn't blame him; the events of the last hour would almost certainly haunt her forever.

However, she could find some kernels of hope among this sea of despair - she was reasonably sure her family were still alive somewhere. She was also confident she’d gathered more useful data today than in the previous ten years of work. She just needed to go home and assimilate all the information for it to be any use. She knew where Vreta was staying - she resolved to talk with him privately about the specifics if she could.

The man with augmented eyes nodded considerately at Vreta’s story. “I understand completely, we’ll get you back to the real world in just a moment - we know where both of you are. I just have one more question for you, Vreta’Sori. Why is it that you were in an evacuated crime scene today?”

While this was happening, Freyr could hear a slight commotion behind them. She turned to see the wounded from their trucks being stretchered inside. At the same time, the room hummed slightly, and looking over her other shoulder she caught a squadron of heavily armoured CraSec soldiers being spawned in. They lined up to grab weapons from an armaments locker before heading to the doors. There was a lot going on, and the questioning was getting a bit above her paygrade, so Freyr was longing to just get out of here.

The Cradle

“I see.” The man nodded thoughtfully at Vreta’s description of the attack. “Is this true?” His eyes drilled into Freyr. She nodded shakily. “Yeah, pretty much. I’m sorry...who did you say you were again?” The man smiled. “I wouldn’t worry about that right now, Dr Lang. The main thing is that i’m here to help - both of you.” He looked at Vreta again. “I also wouldn’t worry about this place. It will be a fortress by dawn tomorrow. We have our best terraformers on it.” The man gestured for both of them to walk through the glass doors into the transit station as they slid open. “Please, after you.”

The large, bright, sparsely furnished room Freyr had arrived in only an hour or two ago had been totally transformed. An entire command centre of holo-consoles and other equipment was being set up around the outside, leaving an open space in the middle for people to spawn in and out. Freyr could see a wide variety of people milling around. There were engineers and technicians in white jumpsuits, connecting up even more gear. There were at least half a dozen terraformers in whatever clothes they’d decided to program in. Freyr also spotted a few other people in the same black uniform as the man with the augmented eyes, who had now followed them through the double doors. These black-clad people all turned to stare directly at them, making Freyr feel incredibly vulnerable.

“Please, take a seat.” The man with the augmented eyes urged, walking past them to sit at an ornate wooden desk. There were two chairs facing him on the other side. After a split second, the man exclaimed. “Ah, of course, the chair!” He loudly snapped his fingers and a nearby terraformer turned around. The man gestured to Vreta, and after sizing him up for a moment, the terraformer hit a few options on her holo-interface. One of the chairs seemed to disassemble and reassemble in a flurry of half-digital moving parts. When everything settled, Freyr could see a large stool, presumably suitable for tailed reptilians. “Please.” The man smiled, gesturing to the seats again. Freyr sat down, growing slightly uneasy.

“Now - this creature you speak of. Is it the same creature as the ones who abducted those Skinners?”

“Yeah.” Freyr nodded, slightly thrown off by the fact that this man knew about the abductions.

“It came back? Why?”

“I uh, I don’t know.” Freyr turned to look at Vreta. “You said that it was doing something with a device when you found it. What kind of device?”

The man looked at Vreta as Freyr spoke, his facial expression completely unfathomable.

The Cradle

Freyr gently patted Bishop’s shoulder. He was just sitting back in his seat, eyes staring straight ahead. “Well done, Mr Bishop. Thank you.” She murmured. “You’re uh...you’re welcome.” He replied weakly. Leaving the pistol on the dashboard, Freyr opened her door and jumped out; her legs were so wobbly she nearly fell. She put her hands up and walked slowly forward.

Several soldiers and a medic rushed to greet her. One shone a scanner beam in her eyes and another handed her an oxygen mask which she gladly took a few breaths from. “You’re clear. Name?” One asked. “Dr Freyr Lang. We have wounded in the back.” Freyr said, teeth gritting when the pain from her seared arm returned. “Can i have a burn pack please?” The medic pulled one from her bag and chucked it to Freyr before rushing around to the back of the truck.

Freyr pulled the remains of her jumpsuit sleeve back to reveal charred, red pink flesh. She activated the burn pack and wrapped it quickly around her entire forearm, crying out from the pain. It quickly subsided though, as topical anesthetics in the wrap numbed everything down underneath. She staggered over to the truck in front. Vreta had just jumped to the ground and was waiting to receive the wounded. “Vreta, right? Can we talk?” Freyr asked, stopping alongside the tall alien. “You can both talk to me.” A deep, gruff voice called from behind them.

Freyr turned, and found a severe-looking grey haired man in a smart black uniform standing before them. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he cooly regarded them with augmented eyes that glowed with three light blue points. “Our medics will see to the wounded, thank you Vreta’Sori.” He smiled, as three of them jogged round the sides of the truck and began pulling the wounded down around them. “Please, come.” He urged, gesturing for them to follow him toward the transit station.

Freyr glanced at Vreta. She’d wanted to talk to him about what had happened in that warehouse. The creature with David’s face had been talking to the alien, and Freyr was sure it meant something. But something about this man in the black uniform made her think they didn’t have a choice. Hesitantly, she fell in behind the man as he walked toward the rows of nervous CraSec troops, still scanning the Border as it loomed over them. “Was that Major Osman I saw, slumped over in that truck?” The man immediately asked, turning and looking at Vreta while still walking.

The Cradle

The tendrils rapidly loosened from around Bishop’s arm and neck, and slithered back out of the driver’s side door as the nightmare beetle thudly wetly into the ground. He quickly closed the door, took the wheel back from Freyr and handed her the pistol. “Whoo! Good shooting boys!” He shouted raspily into his comms set. With her hands free, Freyr looked back out of her window. She could just about see the last two beetles racing toward them out of the foggy blackness. “Go go go!” She urged. The Border come to a stop, and was just a few hundred metres away. Just behind the Border veil, Freyr could see the floodlit transit station.

“Come on!” Bishop yelled, arms taut around the wheel as he juiced every ounce of power from the accelerator. Their truck whined and grated, sparks began flickering behind some of the control panels. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed that both of the bugs were right behind them. Their outstretched tentacles were reaching for the back of the truck, as energy bolts raked across both of their glassy carapaces. Freyr and Bishop both yelped as they hit a bump, sending the whole vehicle up into the air and careering through the Border at a tilted angle.

As soon as they crashed back through the Border and into colonised space, Freyr could see rows of CraSec vehicles parked around the transit station. Dozens of soldiers hiding behind the vehicles instantly opened fire upon seeing the beetles that’d followed them through. Issuing sharp clicks and squeals, the beetles skidded about and quickly disappeared back through the border.

Bishop slammed on the brakes, and they slid to a stop right behind the truck with Vreta on the turret. Freyr exhaled deeply, her whole body shaking uncontrollably. “Identify yourselves.” A voice demanded over loudspeaker, as a handful of soldiers drifted out from behind cover to surround the trucks. Most had their weapons trained on the clearly visible alien.

The Cradle

“I can see the transit station!” Bishop pointed, other hand guiding the steering wheel. Freyr turned to look and could see he was probably right. Though the Border was mostly opaque from the outside, they could still see out. Around a bend in the road, a mile or two away, was a mess of flood lights, marking their exit clearly on the landscape. “All Dagger teams - auxiliary power is in place, we’re ready to receive you.” A voice sounded on the comms set.

“They should be out here getting u-” Bishop began complaining.

“Incoming!” The soldier on the turret shouted.

The driver’s side door clicked open and two thick tendrils entered the cab. One wrapped around Bishop’s neck and the other around one arm. They would’ve pulled him cleanly out of the truck, were it not for his seatbelt. Bishop’s other arm frantically went up to his neck, so Freyr leant over and grabbed the unoccupied steering wheel before they crashed. “Bishop, listen to me. Keep your foot on the accelerator! Take this!” Freyr called over the din, her voice hoarse and croaky. She passed Bishop the pistol, which he used to start shooting the tendrils, his lips pursed and eyes wide. “Fucking die!” She heard someone behind them yelling, as the energy cannon overheated.

Keeping her eyes on the road, Freyr gasped and yanked the steering wheel as another of the beetles rocketed in from their left side, taking fire from the first car, and barreled straight into the second truck. It lurched sideways off the road, a huge dent in the side. “Karos!” Freyr shouted as the vehicle caught something on one of the tires and began flipping over and over through the air. Scraps of metal from the crash flew into the windscreen as Freyr somehow managed to maneuver their speeding truck around the pirouetting wreck. They bounced over something substantial along the way, which Freyr presumed must have been the beetle.

Still leaning over, Freyr used her free hand to activate the truck’s comm unit. “Car in front, help us get this thing off! Please!” She pleaded.

The Cradle

Freyr could hear the hell hounds scrabbling at the armour plate doors above the din of the energy cannon. But she barely saw them in her rear view mirror; her eyes were glued to the rippling Border wall. The lights were out on the road they’d powered onto, but the convoy’s floodlights traced the purple arteries running up that black curtain of night. Gradually, she could see canines appearing in the rearview mirror too, as they failed to keep up with the speeding trucks. The Border caught up with them, sucking them in.

“It’s reclaiming this whole site.” Freyr murmured, fascinated despite everything that was happening. She’d never seen the Cradle react in such a way, no one had. “Cradle Control, come in. We could really use reinforcements at our nearest transit station, over!” Bishop called into his comms unit. “Dagger 7, we’re receiving-”

“Bishop, look out!” Freyr shouted over the reply.

The Border surged forward suddenly, rushing up and swallowing the fourth vehicle in their convoy. For a moment it looked like they may be able to outrun it, but the Border kept gathering speed and enveloped them. Once inside, the sound muffled considerably, and the atmosphere filled with thousands of white flakes. Freyr’s lungs felt the pressure right away, as the Cradle began reducing the oxygen programmed into this previously colonised area.

After a couple of seconds, the truck began alternating between regular engine noise and a shrill whining sound, as though systems were failing. The halo of bright lights around the sides of the truck flickered and died, leaving just the headlights and gun lights. “No no no no no!” Bishop yelled, hitting buttons on the dashboard. “Are we slowing down? What’s happening?” A soldier called in through the hatch separating the cabin from the turret and troop bay. “Yeah! Something is messing with us. I think I can at least get the lights back on!” Bishop replied.

Still peering through the rearview mirror, Freyr let out a surprised yelp when the lights came back on. A large, pale, long-legged beetle with the now synonymous purple tendril extensions was perched on top of the truck behind them, ripping the helpless soldiers aboard it apart with its pincers. Freyr could see several of the tendrils flailing around inside the cabin, grabbing at the driver. The truck veered off the road, into the uncharted ground alongside.

“They’re under attack, shoot that thing!” Freyr shouted, her face stuck up against the side window. “Fuck that, we have more incoming!” The soldier on the turret yelled, firing at four more of the beetles as they raced out of the swirling storm of flakes at blistering speed, two either side of the convoy. “How are they going that fast?!” Bishop exclaimed. “Tiger beetles are built for speed!” The biologist in Freyr forced her to answer.