As Brooks left, Logus took his leave as well.
Kell moved to follow the doctor out. It had been uncharacteristically silent this whole time, to the point that Urle had almost forgotten about its presence – almost.
“One moment, Ambassador. I need to speak with you about what happened in the market.”
Kell glanced back to him. “It is unimportant.”
“Respectfully, Ambassador, it’s not. You terrified that woman.”
Now Kell turned to face him squarely. “I spoke the truth.”
“You did,” Urle said. “But you need to consider not just the time of how to communicate something like that, but how you broach the subject.”
“I am under no obligation to listen to this,” Kell replied.
“No, you aren’t,” Urle agreed. “But you would do well to listen to me. You are an Ambassador. I get the feeling, Kell, that the title is merely a means to an end for you.”
Kell had looked as if he would simply walk away, but now his eyes narrowed. “I would consider your next words carefully, Executive Commander.”
“I understand fully the ramifications,” Urle said. “And that no one else is prepared to tell you this. But you need to know it; you represent your people, Kell. Every action you take reflects upon every other Shoggoth. It also reflects upon the Sapient Union. You have a responsibility to both.”
Kell gazed at him silently for long moments. He did not blink; his eyes did not flicker even the slightest, and Urle felt a chill go down his spine.
But he met the Ambassador’s gaze and didn’t shrink away.
“I will take what you say under advisement,” Kell finally said. “Nevertheless, you presume much, Executive Commander. You believe I act without care, but you do not understand just what it is that I have sacrificed to be here.”
He turned away, moving to the door. It opened for him, but he stopped there.
“Your kind live such short lives,” he said.
“While true, we don’t like to be reminded of our own mortality,” Urle replied.
Kell ignored that. “But the people here, their lives are shorter still. Much like in the past.”
Urle found himself flat-footed against Kell’s observation. It was true, absolutely true, but it didn’t seem the sort of thing the Shoggoth would care about.
“Yes,” he replied. “I believe this colony is in very poor health.”
“Can they be helped?” Kell asked.
“Technically? Yes, we have the capabilities to improve their quality of life, to heal their conditions. In practice? I don’t know. We can’t help them if they don’t want us to.”
“Would you help, if they allowed it?” Kell asked.
“Yes,” Urle replied, without hesitation.
Kell mulled on this for a few moments in silence. Without another word he left, the door closing behind him.
The tram doors opened into a tunnel that was, she thought, the cleanest and best-maintained they’d seen in the entire colony thus far.
That didn’t mean a lot; while it appeared clean, her sensors noted a higher-than-expected level of bacterial growth upon the surfaces.
“Disgusting,” she muttered as she took a handhold to begin moving down the hallway.
“Don’t worry, Pirra,” Cenz said. “None of these bacteria are known to be able to colonize a Moth-Owl.”
“Thanks,” she replied. It still didn’t make it any less gross, but it was good to know. Bacterial infections were one of the most frightening potential occurrences from inter-species contact. While viruses were absolutely bound within one planet’s lifeforms, bacteria could theoretically – and occasionally did – find the conditions in life from another world quite hospitable. The resulting colonizations could cause rapid debilitation or death.
Her sensors didn’t detect any security systems or . . . really anything. But there was a heat source ahead.
“I see it, too,” Cenz replied after she pointed it out. “Let us head that way.”
Pirra took point, keeping ahead of Cenz, as they began down the hallway. She kept her sidearm out – she did not want to be caught unprepared again. Her wing still stung where the crazed man had pulled a feather.
“You know, there is something that has been bothering me,” Cenz said.
Pirra tensed, feeling oddly nervous about what he was about to say.
“This colony makes very little sense. And I do not simply mean the oddness of the name or their behaviour to outsiders. I have been looking over public logs I downloaded upon our arrival, of arrivals and departures of ships.”
“Oh,” she said, entirely caught off-guard by the topic. It had not been at all what she’d been expecting.
“Yes, and while this colony does trade, they do not export as much as I would expect. We cannot know the exact contents of each ship, but by sheer quantities alone I would think there would be more bulk exports. Phosphorous is among the more precious commodities a colony like this would have to trade.”
“For agriculture and people in the rest of the system.”
“Correct,” Cenz replied. “The other colonies likely have a very high demand for it due to their rapid population growths.”
“This place doesn’t seem to have much growth at all,” Pirra noted. “I get the feeling that it’s a dying colony.”
“Yes. Much is made in their local culture of the phosphorous mining. So where is it going? And yet, despite this relatively small export amount, they have taken in very large imports of industrial equipment of an unknown nature.”
“Mining equipment to exploit the phosphorus more?” Pirra ventured.
“That would have been my guess, but the mining equipment we’ve seen is of very low quality and appears very aged.”
“I guess they’re getting screwed over in their trading,” Pirra replied. “All I can imagine.”
“Perhaps. My second thought was perhaps it was equipment to alleviate their food shortages – yet we clearly see no signs of large hydroponics. By my observations they are subsisting largely on algae paste, the most basic of survival foods for a colony.”
“It’s certainly unpleasant stuff,” she said. “I’ve had the Dessei version and I don’t envy any being having to live on it.”
“I will be honest that I like it just fine,” Cenz said. “But then, what I consider appealing, I’ve been told, reminds many humans of something they call ‘fish flakes’.”
Pirra let out a whistling laugh as she neared a corner. “I always wondered what you ate. I’ve seen you in the officer’s mess at lunch time, but you never seem to be eating.”
“Oh, that’s simply because I enjoy the social nature of the lunch period,” Cenz said.
“Wait, so you’re saying you go to lunch just to talk . . . to . . .”
As she trailed off, Cenz stopped. “Pirra, is something wrong?”
“I found the power source,” she said.
The corner led to a large open doorway. The room beyond was mostly smoothed stone, but equipment filled most of the available space, attached to both floor and ceiling.
Tall, clear tubes, capped with equipment.
Beyond this room, she saw other large doorways that opened to even more cavernous chambers containing the same tubes.
In each of them, floating in liquid, were humans. Many were on the small side, only partially grown.
Clones.
“Ah,” Cenz said, his voice bleak. “I suppose this is where the phosphorus is going.”
Other Terrestrial 