The Swarm

Merid flinched slightly at the heavy footsteps of the necro behind her. Small but weighty sacks thudded dully against the floor.   — The re-rest, — Silas slurred wetly, barely concealing a mouth full of saliva.   A faint tremor in his hands betrayed the effort he was making to demonstrate restraint.   Time.   Yun picked up the bartered supplies of salt and oil, shoving them into a cloth bag with unnecessary roughness.   “He’s nervous,” Mary thought. “He sees Silas licking his lips.”   The thought was interrupted by a shove to her shoulder. Another necro, who had entered after the first, bumped into her deliberately, reinforcing the weight of his words.   — More. Larger. More often.   The semblance of a face exhaled warmth against Merid’s forehead, and she caught a sickly sweet scent. Instinctively turning away, suppressing a gag reflex, she stepped back in an attempt to reclaim at least a trace of fresh air.   — We don’t raise livestock for you. People first.   Mary’s confident voice stumbled over fear when, lifting her gaze, she met the necro’s mandibles, spread like the morning bud of a flower. The fleshy “petals” shifted with a wet sound, aching with hunger.   She only managed to blink when a knife blade pierced them.   The handle jutted from the upper part of its face, the tip emerging from the hybrid’s chin. Yun twisted the weapon, grinding sounds scraping against bone from inside the skull.   Silas lunged toward them, but the young man stopped him, bracing a hand against the witness’s chest.   — Your mistake, — his voice was firm, edged with contempt. — Your offspring is fed as long as you uphold the deal, right?   — Yun… — Merid intervened nervously, sensing how the atmosphere between the three of them had shifted.   The technician raised his palm, signaling her to stay silent.   Silas’s gaze slid over them, assessing the weight of what had been said. Then the plates on his chest trembled, slightly separating from the skin, reading the state of the swarm.   — Correct, — the sound came out as a growl, the vibration caught deep in the necro’s throat. — Off-spring matters more. He endangers it by attacking those who bring a gift to the King.   The whites of his eyes, veined red, were covered by a black membrane before Silas added:   — Punish-ment.   The voice was feigned calm, but from the quiver of the insect protruding from his back, Merid understood he was anticipating the execution.   The wounded accomplice remained lying there, unable to pull himself free, lost in the hunger of the swarm. Their will kept him pinned in place as a mass of nymphs, transitional insect forms, flooded the room.   Merid closed her eyes briefly, noting their semi-transparent, not yet hardened abdomens. The nymphs “probed” the space with white antennae. Their mandibles were not functional and allowed only the holding of food before tearing it apart with bloodthirsty “child” limbs.   Green fluid dripped from their backs; their owners were still at the age of living near the clutches, yet not mature enough to replenish the ranks of the swarm.   The pack of ravenous offspring swept over Silas’s accomplice like a wave. His chitin, scattered in pieces across human skin, tore with the sound of old paper.   There was no life in the swarm more valuable than the King’s approval.   “Newcomer.”   There was no revulsion in Yun’s thoughts.   “Hasn’t transitioned into full form yet.”   — I don’t want to watch, — Merid shook her head, looking away.   — We’re leaving, — Yun’s voice did not drown out the cracking of consumed tissues, but she heard it.   Nervously clenching and unclenching her fingers, she turned her back on the feast. Yun’s hand settled over hers, an anchor holding her in reality, as if trying to fix her in that moment against her will.   The technician’s forehead touched her temple before he muttered into her ear with strain:   — Stop waiting for the world to return to normal. We never knew it. It won’t happen, — Yun’s grip tightened, — Mary… there is no “later” and no right time. You either allow yourself to live now or don’t even try.   The silence between them was louder than the nymphs’ chewing.   Merid shrugged carelessly, as if not understanding what he was implying. As if she were not afraid of growing attached to anyone more than to a dog.   — Let’s go already, you damn philosopher.   If not for the mask on his face, she would have noticed Yun’s smirk. Instead, her gaze fell on a nymph’s translucent abdomen, through which the eaten necro’s eye stared at her reproachfully.   She shuddered slightly and walked forward, not letting go of Yun’s hand.   And perhaps the path to D-16 would be harder than the entire road to the King. Ksandr was waiting for them, her answer, and news about the house.       No matter how much of a paradise this sector seemed, its scent resembled the poorest zone — smoldering corpses.   An iron plate in the ground awaited three strikes before the inspector signaled to the others: no specimen was following the travelers.   The waiting pressed against the temples every time. Would they be granted access to the benefits today?   The Supervisor was no less important than the technician. Skillfully maintaining the smoldering of organic matter at an acceptable level, yet not allowing the increased oxygen level to take over.   A low concrete corridor opened before Merid and Yun. Suffocating smog struck their lungs. Bodies lay in metal gutters along the walls. A long staircase led downward.   The smell repelled insects, but humans liked it even less.   Dead airlock.   The last mandatory filter between reality and the remnants of humanity.   — Took long this time. Something behind you? — Jun addressed Ksandr’s man at the entrance impatiently.   — We’re checking that none of them have turned necro, — the man glanced back at her, noting the scars on her arms he was accustomed to.   — Kleim should reveal more details about them faster… — the girl snapped. — Otherwise people will drown in rumors and mysticism.   The guard reluctantly agreed, nodding and listening to the approaching footsteps.   Merid coughed even through the mask, unlike Yun. Only his tightened lips gave him away.   — Finally! — Jun exhaled, handing them a change of clothes. — For now, this. But for you, — her brown eyes locked onto Merid, — there’s something special…   — Just not a dress.       — A fucking dress… Jun, are we going dancing with generals too?   Merid spun irritably before the herbalist and sat down on the bench.   — Not a single carapace, just fungi, look how delicate it is, — her friend insisted while the three stood in her goods room.   — It’s fine, as long as you don’t start talking, — Yun snorted, stretching his legs over the iron table as he sat opposite the restless Mary.   The white biotextile fell to the knees with a small collar. In truth, Merid would have found it beautiful if not for her inner stiffness.   Jun smiled.   — I traded it from a woman in A-1… for a brew for male libido.   The trio’s laughter bounced off the walls.   — What? — she continued. — The situation will change soon. I take what I can.   The laughter faded when realization struck.   Still unsure whether Yun was among “their own,” the shopkeeper fell silent.   Does Yun know enough about the Neutralizer?   — It’s fine, — Merid caught her train of thought.   — What? — the young man drawled. — Locked yourselves in to discuss me?   — Why would you think that? — Jun sat beside her friend.   — Let’s think, — Yun began. — Sudden silence. A topic shift I’m not supposed to notice. Your frightened eyes?   — Don’t flatter yourself, — Mary cut in. — We were just discussing how long your carcass would smoke up the corridor.   — That’s exactly what I meant. You open your mouth and the dress’s magic disappears.   While they playfully nudged each other with elbows, Jun tensed. Merid counted it in seconds. The teasing mood shifted into suspicion.   — Speak.   Mary leaned slightly forward, nudging her toward the conversation Jun had postponed to the last possible moment.   — Alice is here.