The Swarm

— Lead the way! — Merid’s voice echoed off the walls in a humming groan. — Just don’t start with your usual theatrics, — Jun had already risen from the bench, heading toward the exit. — Like what? — Mary gave a nervous huff, but the laugh caught in her throat. — Like: “How can you not fear responsibility and eternal darkness?!” — Jun teased. — That’s not what this is about. I’m not saying we should avoid responsibility, but walking straight to slaughter… — the phrase broke off when Merid met Jun’s frozen expression. — Others call it family. The healer’s tone was outwardly calm, but the last word carried a readiness for conflict. — Hey, — Yun looked at Merid, shifting her attention from Jun to himself, — Ellis is waiting. She’s having it worse than anyone right now. He watched the girl without blinking, like a cornered animal that might bolt at any second. — You can either stir everyone into panic or figure out why the hell they’re dragging her across sectors. For the first time, Merid didn’t spit back a barb at Yun. For the first time, she was real — confused, frightened. Like years ago, when their temperaments didn’t stop them from being friends. That startled him more than the uncertainty about what was happening at home. The technician took her by the elbow, leaving space between them, as if giving her the choice of whether to stay close. The weight of the moment shifted into rising heat in Merid’s head. Even through the haze of blurred memories, he recognized the signs of her growing panic: uneven breathing, trembling fingers. — Riiight, — Yun drawled, turning to Jun, — got anything in that witchy stash of yours? Pride froze her hands at first, but when Merid began gulping at the air, a small bottle of tincture clinked against the table. — No more than twenty drops at a time, or she’ll collapse right here. In that moment, when Mary was emotionally exposed in a way she hadn’t allowed herself in years, she noticed cruelty in Jun — the kind she had once dismissed as nothing more than shared jokes. Her friend’s gaze did not soften. The corners of her lips barely held back a sneer at Merid’s forced helplessness. Yun, in contrast, was an anchor to reality, supporting her with one hand and sliding a cup of water closer. One minute of weakness burned away years of certainty about these people. ⸻ Ellis caught the scent of herbs before Merid’s hands gently settled on her shoulders. — Sedative? Seriously? — her voice rang sharply against the background bustle. — Why is everyone running around? — Merid tried to hide the strain in her voice. She let her gaze slide over Ellis, relieved to note the temporary absence of a visible belly. “There’s still time,” Merid told herself. But whether she meant time for Ellis or time to find a solution, she didn’t dare examine. — It’s because of your sector. Ksandr is gathering everyone, — Jun cut in, leaning against the wall. — What happened? — Ellis asked, alarmed, which only fueled Merid’s irritation toward the healer. “Idiot,” the thought struck. Her hand curled into a fist, green eyes flashing with anger. Jun merely shrugged, unimpressed. — She would’ve found out anyway, — the latter countered. — Stop acting like Ellis is made of glass. — Leave, — the finality in Merid’s tone made Jun throw up her hands and step outside to Yun. — Nothing. Nothing serious, I hope, — Merid said, turning back to Ellis. — I don’t know anything yet myself. The rare blue eyes, untouched by pigmentation in a world where such traits were fading, always seemed to dissect whoever stood before them. Right now, Mary felt like a lab specimen under observation. — I swear, — Merid assured her, and Ellis gave a quiet approving hum. — How are you? What did they say at Kleim’s facility? — she changed the subject, revealing what truly worried her. — “A perfect specimen,” — Ellis quoted the medics mechanically and smiled. — Specimen. Right… There’s nothing human left in them, — Merid snapped, scanning her again. The same light-brown hair. The mole above her lip. But something different in her eyes now — responsibility. — You’re dramatizing, — Ellis replied, casting a mirrored, assessing look, noting the new freckles on Merid’s face as a side effect of her work. — Have you heard of the “Clotho” program? — Cl… Clotho? Good Lord, what kind of nonsense is that? — Merid wrinkled her nose, making Ellis laugh. — Clotho is the great goddess of life who spins the thread of all existence. Like her, we will restore humanity, holding the threads of the future in the hands of science, — Ellis said in mock solemnity, watching Merid closely. — That’s the heresy they used to lure you in? — Mary muttered skeptically. Her confusion drew a wide smile from Ellis. — They tried. But the real temptation is relocation to Sector C. Merid’s pupils widened like before an insect’s strike. Sector C. Home of the elite of all classes — scientists, engineers. A freer imitation of a subterranean city compared to their own dwelling. Above it were only Sectors A and B for the military and leadership. And the further the letter stood from the beginning of the alphabet, the poorer the districts became. — Seriously, — Merid concluded unexpectedly. — But suspicious. A place in Sector C even after the child is born? — Yes, — Ellis reassured her. — I’m telling you, this is their top priority right now. The medics are moving through all the sectors. “Not ours yet,” Merid thought, while the unknown F-8 burned quietly at the edge of her mind. — And Joseph? — she began. — Helping. And he’s going with me, — Ellis interrupted. — Listen… — Merid whispered. — We have something that could improve life without them. It needs testing, but… She faltered. What could she offer instead of Sector C? A few extra years and edible mycelium? A sharp knock made Merid flinch. One of Ksandr’s men gave the guest a disapproving look and said: — He’s waiting. No clarification was needed. There was only one “he” here. Her grip tightened around the bag with the neutralizer — the one she had never managed to entrust to Yun. She nodded, kissed Ellis on the forehead, and followed the man out. Yun was already gone. Jun too. She even felt a flicker of longing for the technician. Walking alone to Ksandr was the last thing she wanted, though her feet obediently followed his subordinate until they stopped before a reinforced metal door. ⸻ — Mary, — drawled the overseer of D-16, — prepared? His eyes swept over her, and she realized she was still in that damn dress — which, after the clash with Jun, felt like mockery. — Of course, — she answered steadily. — Every day could be the last. — Interesting… — Ksandr murmured thoughtfully, his gaze now fixed on the bag at her shoulder. — Enough games. Hand over the neutralizer. Cold spread through her body. “He knows.” Merid lowered her eyes, unready for the clash. Her fingers tightened when his hand gripped the strap and tugged. She remembered Yun’s words: “Let him think this was your decision all along.” — So you’re aware, — she said, faint disappointment slipping into her voice. — As I am of everything here, — Ksandr replied smugly, while inside her head the words pounded: “Damn Yun.” — You’ve seen Ellis? She landed on her feet nicely, didn’t she? — Ksandr remained close, noting the droop of her shoulders and her drawn appearance. — The neutralizer will help her greatly. His hand lifted the bag higher. — Who? — the single word carried layers. Who betrayed her? Who was close enough to Ksandr? Who was less loyal than she had believed? The fear of hearing the name made it nearly impossible to draw a full breath. — Irrelevant, — Ksandr cut her off. — You thought you were special, Mary. But the truth is, you’re not the only one the King offered a deal to. He circled behind her. — Why would I send my own people into a potential trap when you were already walking into it? — Bastard, — Merid whispered, but in the thick silence the word rang louder than intended. — Perhaps. But look at you — you’re here. My offer still stands. And knowing about your fallen sector, I have one remaining question… The phrase “fallen sector” knocked the last air from her lungs. Her knees trembled, ready to give out. But not here. Not in front of him. — So tell me, Mary… what role are you playing here?