The Swarm

— So, Mary… what role are you playing here? A jerk tore the bag off her shoulder. Suddenly, Merid felt as if she were stripped bare in front of him. Xander’s grasping eyes pried under the illusion of armor, leaving nothing but flesh to demonstrate power. To be without a neutralizer meant having no reason to exist. Not just here — at all. — I brought it to you, not to Abel, — Merid cut in, deliberately inviting condescension, recalling Yun’s words. — Abel, — Xander smirked, — is buried alive, but… — he continued, opening the bag. — You couldn’t have known. You came to me — I’ll give you that. The overseer’s hand pulled out a container filled with a yellowish-green substance, streaked with red clots. — I keep my word. Stay. You’ll bring more. The man’s palm settled on her forearm. — Xander! — the girl’s cry broke through the thin veneer of politeness, exposing anger. — I can offer you a second option, — the overseer tightened his grip. She felt his fingers pressing into her skin through the thin fabric of her dress. Merid swallowed hard. — You’ll test on yourself what you brought, — he went on. Xander’s grip didn’t let her go. — What? — he let out a rough laugh at the doorway. — Being a middleman doesn’t sound so bad, does it? Merid’s thoughts swarmed with the urge to strike him, at least with words, but her position was more unstable than the ventilation in F-8. — My sector… — she said suddenly, softer. — What about it? Xander let go. His gaze lost its cold edge — just for a moment… then the indifference returned. — A request for help came from A-2. The arch cracked. Xander locked his eyes onto Mary’s face, probing for another reason behind the sudden shift in topic, but her pressed lips betrayed a restrained hysteria. — They didn’t answer the second call, — he added, watching her reaction. — Damn, — Merid exhaled. Her throat seized with a sharp inhale. — Then they wouldn’t have made it in time. She despised how pleading her voice sounded. Her genuine grief made Xander step closer, studying her. — A team will go to the collapse site tonight, check for survivors, — his voice was low. — Anyone left alive will be brought here. Temporarily. Agreement with A-2. Merid lifted her gaze to him. Xander… saving her sector? Behind that mask of monstrous emptiness — was there still a person? She blinked a couple of times, as if shaking off a stupid dream, and only nodded. — Back to you, Mary, — Xander was still watching her, memorizing every reaction. — First option or second? — The first. Merid didn’t look away, though her hands had gone cold. — I’ll bring more, if it works. Xander gave an approving grunt. — Go. I’ll give you time to grieve. The last word hit like a slap, snapping Mary out of it. Mocking her or…? The door slammed behind her, cutting her off from the sticky conversation already clawing into her mind.

***

The light of oil lamps merged with the glow of fungal clusters as she walked forward, not watching her path. Footsteps mixed with the shouts of traders and drunken voices. The more of the latter there were, the clearer Merid understood where she had ended up — the Station of Lights. Jay was already serving the gathered crowd another batch of brew, taking the last provisions from some of them. Merid still remembered the taste — a throat-scorching liquor with a note of sweet rot on the exhale, fading into overripe fruit. And yet she wanted it. Anything but the question of what came next. Once, Merid had believed the sector would be evacuated, that she would leave her role as a courier and go work on Francis’s farm. A quiet life, fat rodents, no surface. But now? “What if Abel is alive?” Merid shook her head. “No. No, impossible.” She pulled out a pouch of wax oil and placed it in front of Jay. “If that son of a bitch is alive, then what?” Would he forgive her betrayal? Understand she had no choice? — He wouldn’t forgive me, even if I went to hell with him, — Merid realized she had said it out loud when she saw Jay’s frozen stare. — Not more than one, girl… — Jay said carefully, already sensing the chaos her mood carried. His wrinkled hand pushed the drink closer to her. — Heard about your sector. I’m sorry. Truly, — he added, sliding her payment back. — On the house. “If there’s one stable thing left in the world, it’s a bartender’s kindness,” Merid smirked, lifting the drink to her lips. At first, her lips tightened instinctively, refusing to let the liquid in. But she forced herself to take a sip, letting the foul burn in her throat drown out everything else. Settling in the corner on the floor, crossing her legs, she emptied the glass in one go. Her temples throbbed. The sharp thirst and the urge to wash away the taste of rot pushed the grief aside for a few seconds. Just think — the last time she saw them, she promised she was going for hope. Turned out, she was running from death among them. — Break anything… you’re cut off, — Jay’s assistant interrupted her spiral. A girl of about fifteen, collecting dishes from drunk patrons, picked up the glass and shot her a final disdainful look. A shadow fell over her. A drunk gaze slid over her legs, climbing up the rough fabric of her pants, until it focused on amber eyes and black strands slipping from a braid. Lori. — Causing trouble, huh? — the new acquaintance said with satisfaction. — Dean, camp shift. A guy emerged from the corner like a shadow and shuffled toward them. — Hi, — Merid forced out, unsure whether she was glad to see them. — You saw him again? — the guy asked, offering her a hand. — Who? — she frowned, taking it and getting up. — This idiot’s obsessed with necros, — Lori cut in. — Necros are the future of evolution, — he shot back. — Where did you even hear that? — Merid snapped. — Only someone like— — Kleim. Right, — Lori cut her off. — Dean’s obsessed with him. — Does Kleim come here often? — Merid asked, eyeing them. — Not often. They guard him like treasure. — Lori leaned closer, her whisper sending chills down Merid’s arms. — He was here a couple of years ago. Ever since then… — she jabbed Dean in the chest. — Won’t shut up. Merid snorted. She hated scientific fanatics even more than the Ascension cult. — I’ll tell you more, — Dean said eagerly. — Kleim will be here tomorrow. — Since when? — Lori snapped, curiosity flaring. “Neutralizer,” flashed through Merid’s mind. — Probably another lecture about hybrids and breeding, — Lori sighed. — They’re messing with our heads. — Mary, there’s so much I need to ask you, — Dean stepped closer. — Do necros read each other’s thoughts? How do they hear the swarm? — Back off, her sector just died, — Lori stepped between them. But Merid felt only emptiness. The alcohol haze couldn’t erase the faces of those who raised her. Couriers feeding the upper sectors. Used up. Burned under the sun. Torn apart by insects. Buried under debris. It felt impossible that such injustice could exist. — Hey, — Dean cut in, — you upset about the “cleansing”? — Cleansing? — her voice came out barely audible. Of course she knew the ritual. Bodies were dried on the surface in biotextile cocoons. Fungal networks absorbed the organic matter. Plates sealed in the smell. Later, the cocoon was used as protein feed, while the bodies rotted in putrefaction gates, repelling insects. Pragmatism, called cleansing. Mary shut her eyes. For weeks, she would breathe the remains of those who loved her. She grabbed Dean by the collar, yanking him closer. — How do you know? — Easy! — Lori raised her hands. — He works the decay gate. — Yeah, — Dean nodded. — They said there’ll be material from F-8. — That’s not material, that’s my family! — Merid shoved him hard. “Idiots, idiots…” she thought, walking away faster. “Idiot! Xander doesn’t need the living! They’re going there to scavenge bones!” She bumped into people as she moved. Reaching a train car, she stepped inside. Yun sat with his legs thrown over the seat. — You look like a rabid ferret, — he smirked, then went serious when he saw her eyes. Green irises lit by yellow lamplight, brown flecks like sparks. — The sector didn’t collapse by accident, — Merid said, stepping toward him. — Easy, easy, — Yun stood up. — Think. Abel finds out about the neutralizer. Then Xander’s already waiting for me with it. Then the sector collapses. Kleim couldn’t have arrived that fast. I’m sure this wasn’t without that bastard. Yun fell silent, studying her face — that unsettling, beautiful madness in it. — I just don’t understand how the ventilation failed so perfectly… Her gaze dropped, searching for an answer in the rusted metal, the puzzle assembling into something horrific. Merid stepped back. — You? Yun’s brown eyes turned black from dilated pupils. He stepped closer, looming over her. — Me, — he admitted. — To please Xander? — she stared, shocked by the cruelty of her childhood friend. — What do you know about the resistance? — Yun asked quietly, looking straight into her eyes as her heart seemed to slam against her ribs.