Worlds Apart Pt. 02

"It's Davi!" one of them announced, the party standing aside to give the insects more room to waddle past. They glanced up at Liz with their large, expressive eyes, likely never having seen a Borealan before.

"Good morning, Doctor Sousa," another chimed.

"What have you got there?" Sousa asked, appraising their cargo.

"Raw materials for the settlement," another replied. Unlike Bluejay, their voices were higher pitched, distinctly feminine.

They watched as the little aliens trudged up the path, eventually disappearing from view in the dense forest.

"Workers," Sousa explained. "They dig the tunnels that make up the hive, they build tools and weapons, they perform maintenance and surgery."

"They're kinda cute," Liz chuckled, watching the last of them disappear up the path. "Like a little row of jelly beans."

They continued on, descending deeper into the valley. Bluejay stopped after a few minutes, leaning his long rifle across his shoulder as he crouched low to the forest floor, brushing aside the ferns with a three-fingered hand.

"What is it?" Jamie asked, turning back to see what he was doing.

"I smell it too," Liz said, her pink nose twitching as she sniffed at the air. Jamie and Sousa exchanged a shrug, their human senses too dull to pick anything up.

"It's that damned Knife-Tooth," Bluejay muttered, rising to peer into the forest. "Sorry, guys, this is where I leave you. The scent is only a few hours old. Maybe I can catch the bastard before he costs us any more chickens."

"Good luck!" Jamie said, watching his wings unfurl. They became a blur, a buzzing sound filling the air, the plants at his feet whipping back and forth as he rose toward the canopy. In a moment, he was gone, little more than a glint of blue glimpsed through the branches.

"Imagine just being able to fly like that," Liz mused, giving Jamie a nudge with her elbow. "Think I can get gene therapy to give me wings?"

"At this point, I have no idea what to expect," he replied.

Jamie had imagined that they would reach the bottom of the valley before they came upon the hive, but the muddy trail led them to one of the entrances, situated on the gentle slope. It was little more than a mound of earth that rose up from the undergrowth, itself covered in a steadily spreading carpet of ferns that had taken root upon it. There was a pair of large doors made from a kind of uneven, organic resin, tall and wide enough to let one of the Cultivators that they had seen in the field pass through unhindered.

Two Drones were standing to either side of it, guarding the entrance, each one equipped with a resin pistol that was holstered in a molded recess on their thigh armor. They looked similar to Bluejay at a glance, the same five-foot height, with the same collars of fluffy fur around their necks. Unlike their blue counterpart, however, their bodies had an oddly feminine look to them. Their thighs were stouter, their wide hips tapering into narrow waists, and they had no wings.

Sousa raised a hand to greet them, and they seemed to recognize him. One of them turned to the door, brushing its fingers against a blob of off-green jelly in the soil beside it, the gelatinous mass quivering. It looked like a living ball of phlegm, Jamie grimacing as he watched it pulsate. Was it a living organism?

The twin doors began to swing outward, the two guards stepping clear, a rush of warm air washing over the visitors as they glanced into the dingy tunnel beyond. It smelled moist, humid, but not necessarily unpleasant.

"The hive is made up of a huge network of interconnected tunnels that run for miles beneath the valley," Sousa explained, leading them inside. Jamie and Liz exchanged an apprehensive glance, then followed behind him. "They link together hundreds of underground chambers, each one with its own specific function. The Jarilans have factories, nurseries for their larvae, storage areas for food and tools. There's a whole city down here, with a population that far outstrips that of the settlers on the surface."

Once the sunlight was to their backs, Jamie noticed that the wide passage was lit by clumps of luminescent moss that clung to the curved ceiling above, emitting a blue-white glow that was enough to see by. He extended a hand to brush the wall, expecting to feel damp soil beneath his fingers. Instead, he felt something akin to rigid plastic, as though the bare earth had been covered over by some kind of transparent resin.

"The smell of pheromones is even stronger in here," Liz commented, lifting her head as she took in the unfamiliar scents. "It's almost like they've been smeared in the walls."

"That's exactly what they did," Sousa chuckled. "The Jarilans are very sensitive to chemical markers in their environment, and they have no written language of their own. Instead, they leave pheromone trails to act as signposts, which lead them to different parts of the hive. There will be a unique scent for the feeding chambers, another for the foundries, another for the brood chamber. It makes it functionally impossible for them to get lost down here."

"Then, how do you know your way around?" Jamie asked. "Did you memorize the layout?"

"Nah," Sousa replied, stopping at a T-junction to point at the wall. "They added English signs for wayward mammals."

Much like a street sign, the aliens had glued placards to the resin walls that pointed to different areas of the hive. Jamie could have sworn that they were hand-written, but each letter had been reproduced with such precision that it seemed unlikely. He read off a few locations. There was the galley, the sleeping quarters, the nursery. Even the names seemed to have been translated into a more palatable English equivalent. Brood chamber sounded a lot less appealing than nursery.

"We're headed to the infirmary," Sousa announced, leading them down the leftmost tunnel. Unlike the straight, logical corridors of the Magellan, the hive tunnels were a winding maze. They seemed to turn corners at random, branching off in sometimes four or five different directions, even rising and falling in elevation as they wound deeper underground.

"How is there an air current down here?" Jamie wondered, feeling the breeze on his face. "I don't see any vents."

"They use convection," Sousa explained. "There are chimneys on the surface that circulate the air through a series of tunnels, expelling waste gases, and regulating the internal atmosphere. It's a simple system, but remarkably efficient. Even in the deepest reaches of the hive, the Jarilans can keep the temperature and humidity at a comfortable constant."

They came across another procession of Workers, the tunnel wide enough that the two groups could easily pass one another, the little insects greeting Sousa before heading up the tunnel.

"They all seem to know you," Liz commented, turning her head to watch the short insects disappear around a bend in the passage.

"I've been working on Jarilo for a couple of years now," the scientist explained. "I've been here to see the hive transition from what we know as Betelgeusians to what we see today. I've witnessed the birth of a new generation, one that's eager to interact with humans, to engage with us socially. They learn so fast, they mimic us, they're so curious about how we live. My team and I spend a lot of time with them. I've known some of them since they were larvae."

"They must mature astoundingly quickly," Liz added.

"Oh, very," he continued. "They're fully mature only two or three months after hatching. Most of the Jarilans that you've seen so far aren't more than a year or two old."

"Humans are barely walking and talking by that age," Jamie said. "These guys already speak better English than I do."

The passage that they were following led them past a cavernous underground chamber, the trio pausing to glance inside. A huge dome had been carved out of the planet's bedrock, veins of ore adding color to the gray stone above. The sedimentary layers were clearly visible, giving way to dark soil near the top. They must be hundreds of feet underground by now. The luminescent moss that Jamie had seen in the tunnels was clustered at its apex, the mass creating a much brighter light source that illuminated the room.

The chamber was as large as a factory floor, and there were hundreds of squat, fuzzy Workers milling about inside it. They were crouched over tables that were made from the same organic, uneven resin as the doors and the weapons, their four arms moving frantically. This was some kind of assembly plant, he realized. The Bugs were making things, batteries, if he had to guess. They were holding the resin housings with their upper arms, their lower pair moving with surgical precision, attaching what looked like printed circuit boards and filaments of copper wire.

At the back of the chamber was what looked like a row of earthenware ovens, made from tightly-packed clay. The orange glow of their flickering flames spilled out, casting dancing shadows behind the Workers that were tending them. He watched one of the Bugs pull a glowing piece of metal from the raging flames using some kind of resin tong, inspecting the red-hot iron before placing it back inside. These were forges. The Bugs were smelting metal down here.

"Industrious, aren't they?" Sousa said as he watched Jamie stare at them.

"Is this a factory?" he asked.

"The Jarilans are completely self-sufficient," the scientist continued, gesturing to the bustling chamber. "They can make their own tools, their own electronics, they can even manufacture spacecraft with just the natural resources available to them on the planet. The settlements up top aren't at the stage where they can establish large-scale production facilities yet, they can only produce whatever items can fit on the printer beds. Thanks to the Jarilans, we're going to be able to manufacture whatever we need on-site," he said as he planted his hands on his hips triumphantly. "It'll be the fastest development of any colony, ever. No waiting decades to get established, no having to import a labor force."

"You're really invested in them," Liz added, Sousa nodding his head as he glanced up at her.

"We're looking at the start of a new era for the Coalition, one where the Jarilans accelerate construction and manufacturing projects by a factor of a thousand, where there are Jarilan doctors in every hospital on every planet. It's going to happen," he insisted, almost as though he was trying to convince himself as much as he was them. "We just have to...help people understand them. They have to realize that these aren't Betelgeusians."

They moved on from the factory, heading deeper into the recesses of the hive, following the tunnels into the bowels of the planet. After a few more twists and turns, they arrived at what the sign informed them was the infirmary. The mouth of the tunnel was sealed behind a resin door, Sousa reaching out to brush his fingers against another of the phlegm-like masses that was embedded in the soil beside it. The blob of green gunk shivered, the door starting to open.

"What are those?" Jamie asked.

"Chemical sensors," Sousa explained. "They work a little like fingerprint locks. It's how the Jarilans keep unauthorized personnel from trespassing."

The door opened into another domed chamber, this one far smaller than the last. The base of the circular wall was lined with work surfaces, counters made from extruded soil that had been overlaid with more of the clear resin that they used to coat the tunnels. It was uneven and organic in appearance until it reached the top, where it had been flattened out to a glass-smooth consistency.

Jamie couldn't begin to guess at the purpose of the objects that sat on top of them. Some were clearly surgical instruments like scalpels and clamps, none of them made from metal, while others were less obvious in their function. He remembered the lab from the gene clinic back on Earth, the microscopes, the centrifuges. In place of such things, the Bugs were using devices that were semi or fully organic, indescribable masses of flesh and electronics that made no sense to his eyes. Oddly, there were a few devices of human origin, standing out due to the clean lines of their hospital-white housings.

There were raised sections of the floor made in much the same style as the work surfaces, reminding him of tombs in a crypt. Upon closer inspection, the resin on top was molded to fit the contours of an occupant, suggesting that these were the Bug equivalent of hospital beds. They came in varied sizes, likely one for each caste that lived in the hive.

The alien laboratory was occupied by a dozen squat Jarilans. They were very similar to the Workers in terms of their stature and body plan, but they were all uniform in color, devoid of any fur. Their carapaces reminded Jamie of mother of pearl, white at a glance, but catching the light to reveal rainbow hues as they moved about the room. Where the Workers had a pair of powerful upper-arms used for digging and labor, these creatures had slender, spindly limbs that ended in dexterous fingers. They were still long enough that they almost reached the floor, but they seemed far better suited to delicate work, the lower pair complementing them. Come to think of it, they reminded Jamie of the robotic surgery machines he had seen in clinics, with their sets of mechanical arms.

The horns on their foreheads were more stunted and rounded than those of their counterparts, and they had a pair of long, fuzzy antennae that protruded from the tops of their heads. They were black at the base, tapering to white at their tips.

A few of the creatures turned to look up from their work as the strangers entered, one of them leaving its place in front of a vaguely rectangular device that was covered in quivering pustules, almost like a keyboard made of meat.

"These are the subjects!" it exclaimed, the segmented plates that made up its face shifting as it spoke. "One human male, one Borealan female, both of breeding age."

"Lizka, James, this is Nightingale," Sousa said as the little creature bobbed on the spot excitedly. "Nightingale," he added, wagging his finger at the creature as he chided it. "We talked about bedside manner, didn't we?"

"Apologies," it added, scrutinizing the newcomers eagerly with a pair of pink eyes. "We are merely excited to begin the procedures."

Jamie noted that this one had a female voice. So far, only Bluejay had come across as distinctly male.

"Nightingale?" Liz asked, cocking an eyebrow at the Bug. "Bit on the nose, isn't it?"

"Walker names them," Sousa explained, shrugging his shoulders. "You'll have to forgive a little...quirkiness from these guys. They're a relatively new caste, and the Queen thought it best to retain some of the more obsessive qualities from the original genetic blueprint. She said that we needed them to be efficient. They'll learn, in time."

"Social graces...secondary to meeting performance goals," Nightingale replied, "but not unimportant. Soon, we take genetic samples for analysis, yes?"

"Soon," Sousa promised. "For now, why don't you explain the process to your patients? It will put them more at ease if they know what to expect."

"Simple," Nightingale said, waving at Jamie and Liz as though she needed to grab their attention. "We take DNA samples from bodily secretions, not invasive, then we sequence genomes. We look for similarities, compatibilities, conflicts. Once both genomes are fully mapped, and the interactions between each gene is properly understood and demonstrated in a test environment, splicing can begin."

"Slow down a little," Sousa advised. "We don't even know if that will be possible yet."

"Splicing between human and Betelgeusian genomes was successful, precedent has been set," Nightingale insisted. "Subjects...patients are both mammals. They must share basic body chemistry, or they would not be able to breathe the same atmosphere, consume the same nutrients. If DNA was too dissimilar, if different sugars and phosphates were present, if nucleotides were mismatched, they could not interact as they do. The exchange of bodily fluids would result in a catastrophic-"

"That's enough information, Nightingale," Sousa interrupted hurriedly. "You're very confident in your work, we understand."

"You think it's possible, then?" Liz asked.

The little creature peered up at her, near half her height, its furry antennae waving in the air as though it were scenting her.

"We have not yet analyzed the Borealan genome in detail," she replied. "Human scientists have access to sequences, yes, but their data is incomplete."

"The Jarilans are somehow able to analyze the complex interactions between different genes," Sousa explained. "That's one of the technologies that the UAS would like to crack. We can sequence a genome without much trouble, it's pretty trivial as long as you have the processing power on hand. When it comes to what those tens of thousands of genes actually do and how they interact with one another, that's another story. We have no method of determining that, save through observation."

"We do not keep secrets," Nightingale clarified, as though concerned that Liz and Jamie would think that she was withholding information. "Much of our technology uses chemical or nervous interfaces, and until now, all of our gene-editing has taken the form of the Queen's internal mechanisms. We will work with the humans to find solutions, ways of translating."

"I'm sure they understand," Sousa said.

"Time for samples now?" Nightingale asked eagerly. "Do not worry, Sousa says no biopsies, saliva only."

"If you two are ready," the scientist said, turning to Jamie and Liz. "We'll be taking cheek swabs to collect samples of your saliva, which should give the Jarilans all of the information they need to start the process."

"Okay," Jamie replied with a shrug. He glanced up at Liz, and she nodded.

"The sooner, the better," she said, looking almost as enthusiastic as Nightingale was. "The suspense is killing me. I just want to know that it's going to work, that my DNA doesn't have some nasty line of code that's going to spoil everything."

"Chances of that, very low," Nightingale chirped. "Please wait here. I shall fetch the swabs."

She turned around, waddling over to one of the resin worktops, rummaging inside a white box with UAS markings on the site. It appeared that the scientists back at the settlement had provided them with some supplies more suited to humans. Jamie didn't want to imagine what form the Jarilan equivalent of a swab might have taken. Maybe some kind of living worm that squirmed around inside the subject's mouth...

The little insect returned with two cotton swabs clutched in her hands, along with two plastic vials with blue caps. She stopped before Jamie, blinking her large eyes as she looked up at him expectantly.

"What should I do?" Jamie asked, glancing at Sousa.

"Just stay still," he replied. "She's quite gentle."

With a nod from Sousa, Nightingale lifted one of her upper arms, taking Jamie's face in her hand. The touch of her carapace against his skin was strange, not at all what he had expected. As hard as their shells looked, they were actually somewhat malleable, like a kind of soft plastic. It was firmer than his own flesh, but there was more give to it than something like a crab's shell. He opened his mouth, the alien carefully inserting the swab, rolling it against his inner cheek. When it was coated with his saliva, she placed the swab inside the plastic test tube, sealing it up.

Next, she turned her pink eyes to Liz. It was obvious that the Borealan was going to have to get closer to the ground.

"Come, come!" the creature said as she gestured for Liz to follow her. She led the towering feline over to one of the raised beds, then clambered up onto it, gaining an extra two or three feet. It was enough to reach, Liz leaning down a little as she opened her mouth, exposing her sharp teeth. If Nightingale was in any way apprehensive about sticking her hand in there, she didn't show it, giving the Borealan's cheek a good swab before hopping back down onto the dirt floor.