The Black Lung Captain - By Chris Wooding Page 0,197
that very few ever did, with this heaven of belonging within their grasp. Who, when offered this, would choose the lonely isolation of humanity?
Jez was only partway there. To be a Mane in its fullest sense meant accepting the Invitation. And she knew that there was no returning from that.
They spoke to her without words.
Will you join us?
Frey's gun was still levelled at Grist's head. Grist's gun was pressed against Trinica's, at a considerably closer range. Jez was on the far side of the barricade, crouched like a cat. The unearthly howl she'd made was dying away in her throat. The Manes stood at bay before her.
Nobody dared make a move.
What in the name of buggery is going on?
Then Jez straightened and turned. Frey saw the awful change that had been wrought in her, just like on the All Our Yesterdays. Her face was not physically different, but something else lived behind it now. Something feral and mad, something other. It was in her posture and her expression, and above all in her eyes. She jarred against his senses, and terrified him.
Then she spoke. Her voice was straining, gasping, horrible, as if she was unfamiliar with the workings of her own throat. A flock of whispers that coalesced into sound.
~ This one speaks for the Manes ~
'Jez?' said Malvery. 'That you?'
~ This one is she. She is our mouthpiece. We have lost your way of speech. You are mute to us, as we are to you ~
Frey felt his skin crawl. He summoned up a little defiance for form's sake. 'What have you done to her?'
~ Nothing she has not chosen. Be calm, Captain Frey. You and your crew will not be harmed. This one places great value on you ~
'Her, too,' Frey said immediately, pointing at Trinica. 'She's done you no wrong.'
Jez didn't reply to that. Instead, she said, ~ Captain Grist. Let the woman go. Bring us the sphere ~
'No funny business, Frey,' Grist warned.
Frey put up his weapon. Grist let go of Trinica, and she scrambled out of his grip and backed away from the Manes towards Frey. Frey moved closer, carefully, as if fearing a sudden move would lead her to be snatched from him again. Relief crashed in as his hand closed around her wrist and he pulled her towards him. He felt a fierce desire to take her in his arms and hold her, but something in her manner prevented it. She was no longer the kind to be held and comforted.
Grist had picked up his cutlass from where it had fallen during the struggle with Trinica, and shoved it in his belt. Now he retrieved the sphere from where it lay, bundled up in a coat. He stepped past the barricade and walked towards Jez, still clutching his pistol in his right hand. 'You know why I came here, don't you?' he said.
~ Yes ~
'Give me the Invitation.'
~ We know what you want ~ She took the sphere from Grist and stared at it, brow furrowed in concentration.
Frey felt the air go slack. It was as if some tight wire, that had been tugging at the edge of his mind, had quietly snapped. The sensation was noticeable only by its absence. He hadn't realised he was detecting the sphere, even in the faintest way, until it stopped broadcasting. Now, finally, it was silent.
'I brought you a thousand new recruits,' said Grist, eyeing Jez warily. 'My offerin' to you. All I want's to be one of you. To live always. It's all I want.'
Jez's gaze went from the sphere in her hands to Grist. ~ We came to find the sphere. We came believing that our long-lost brethren were in peril. But there were no Manes there ~
'I had to find you,' Grist said. A note of uncertainty had crept into his voice. 'It was the only way.'
~ Hundreds of our kind and yours have died today, Captain Grist. All so you could come here before us ~
'I did what had to be done,' he growled. Even in the face of a crowd of Manes, he prickled at having his decisions questioned. He addressed the horde defiantly. 'Don't pretend you're strangers to killin', yourselves!'
~ We kill to survive. What your kind call kidnapping, we call recruitment. We must grow in number, and we have no other way of reproduction. But the sight of us inspires terror in your kind. They are apt to resist. We are forced to defend ourselves ~