Dawn Bellwether took long, slow, steady breaths, refusing to look at any of the mammals behind her. She'd be damned before she'd let her nausea make her look weak in front of them. This wasn't the time. Not when she was standing before the great doors of Dhi'haka, stroking the ancient black metal with one hoof. The material felt rough and smooth, like sanded-down wood. Her fingers stroked the welded vertical strip. The braniacs had estimated the door was 8 inches, roughly the thickness of deep-diving windows. They'd built a custom cutter specifically for the purpose of undoing the Hunters' work.
The cutter loomed high over her head, bearing the body of a cherry picker and the head of a warhead-sized plasma cutter. They'd told her it was Ion or something even hotter. The machine was drivable, but they'd also designed it to be operated via remote control so they could watch from a safe distance. They'd already programmed its designated path- start from the top and work its way down- so all they had to do was press the button and wait.
Bellwether considered the time duration they'd also programmed- 33 minutes. Her employees were confident that was all the cutter needed. Part of her hoped they were wrong. It'd take a few minutes to restart the program for another go, plenty of time to retreat to her office and throw up.
"Aunt Bellwether?" Sharla, now dressed in full biohazard gear, spoke up. "Final checks have been completed. We're ready."
Bellwether gave her in-law a quick glance then turned to her commander. "Any update from 'upstairs?'"
"Minimal survivors." Jesse Walter answered, the ram having wisely waited until Bellwether asked before disturbing her reverie. As one of the few high-rankers who'd been at her side since the beginning, she was glad to have him still here, to watch as she succeeded where the original Ewetani couldn't. What did it matter to her that he was missing his sister's wedding for this? "Officially, the Interception was a success, but they're in no condition to invade the Mothership. Their firepower was… impossible to overwhelm, even with the ambush."
Bellwether sighed. Her 'superiors' in the Board of Directors were going to be pissed.
But not for long. Not when they see what I'm about to unearth.
"They had help, Miss Bellwether. A smaller ship intervened."
"Marine?" Bellwether asked, thinking with a scowl of Bogo.
"Hunter, Ma'am."
"Our missing friend." The sheep had heard enough. "If you say we're ready, we're ready. Begin breaching procedure as soon as we're in the bunker."
They retreated quickly, sealing themselves within the smaller rectangular building that was their viewing room. Bellwether sat in her personal cushy chair and picked up the cup of licorice root tea she'd requested. That tea was supposed to relieve nausea, but they didn't need to know that. She took a long drink before giving the signal.
Through the thick wide window above the control panel, floodlights held back the darkness of night, illuminating the great door in all its glory. At this moment a small team of engineers moved a tall shield around the cutter, a thick shell of classified material capable of blocking armor piercing rounds.
Bellwether sipped her tea. The great sparks of the cutter didn't come.
"Sharla." Bellwether said as sweetly as she could manage. "You remember which button to press, don't you?"
She watched Sharla swallow nervously, eyeing the way Bellwether held her stomach.
"Maybe you should go to Medical first."
"Sharla. Begin the breaching procedure."
"Bellwether-"
"Now." Bellwether let the snarl slip, but it did the job. The cutter came alive with a blazing blue star of sparks and began dragging that star down.
Security formed a ring alongside the floodlights. The mammals from Science formed a tight group beneath a white canopy near Bellwether's bunker, waiting eagerly alongside their equipment. Closer to the door, a team of armed scouts dressed in armored biohazard suits and body cameras also watched and waited. They'd be the first mammals in millennia to enter the temple. Bellwether hoped they appreciated the honor. She'd had gone with them had everyone not convinced her of the potential dangers.
As for everyone else, their instructions had been clear from the very beginning- make sure no-one and nothing could interfere with the breach. Dozens of guards patrolled the area out of sight of the window, watching the trees. They were to maintain constant communication, answering directly to Commander Walter. If someone didn't answer every two minutes, and weren't found in three, the place would go into lockdown. Anti-aircraft artillery diligently scanned the stars.
Four minutes after the sequence started, Sharla tore her haunted gaze from the window to face her aunt once more.
"Aunt Bellwether?"
"What now?" She responded politely.
"The breach will take a while. Why don't we bring a medic in here to take a look at you?"
Bellwether gave a dismissive wave, her tea shaking slightly in her other hoof. "I'm fine, honey."
"No, you're not."
Bellwether blinked. Part of her grew infuriated at Sharla's blunt tone, coming close to lashing out at being talked back to. Then another wave of nausea washed over her abdomen and stopped her mid-breath. The wave had felt almost solid, like something pressing against the side of her stomach.
She looked at the monitor on the control panel. 25 minutes left.
"Well, so long as it helps pass the time."
Perched high up on a portable communication tower, the Hunter scanned the shell surrounding the great cutter and growled under its breath. The material had no name in the data archive, but it was capable of shrugging off plasma fire. Its plan to blast the crane with its cannon had been killed in its crib. It switched the vision to render the shell see-through so it could examine the cutter beneath. The focused ion fire melted all the way through the weld as it descended.
It sent a swift communication to the Mothership, only to be informed that the cannons were still non-functional. The Hunter's ship still had its own weapons, but it'd be shot down by the Company's missiles before they'd do any good. It thought of its alternate solution, its 'Plan B' as the mammals would call it. It sent another message to the Mothership and waited for their response.
Four anti-aircraft guns had been positioned around the area like a compass, Bellwether's bunker positioned like the needle in the middle. All five positions sat heavily guarded. If it attacked one, its position would be given away.
That dilemma, the Hunter mused, was why it had brought two plasma casters.
It leapt from the tower onto the roof of the two-floor building that held Bellwether's quarters. The skylight couldn't be opened from outside without making a noise. The Hunter took out a vial and dripped twice on the bulletproof glass. It sizzled quietly as it dissolved. The Hunter dropped down into Bellwether's bedroom, almost breaking her queen-size bed.
Maintaining its cloak so it wouldn't be spotted through the windows, the Hunter headed toward the office space where it would have the best vantage point. On its way it lifted the couch with both arms and placed it in front of the door leading downstairs, blocking it. The action brought a small ache in the arm the buffalo had broken. The Hunter paused, thinking again of the 'Black Death.' The buffalo had to have perished alongside the infected patient when the three ships vaporized. The Hunter's six sense told it otherwise.
In the office, her desk sat beneath a window providing a clear view of the excavation site. The light of the cutter indicated that a job half-done.
A message came back from the Mothership. An acceptance of its plan. The Hunter detached both of its plasma casters and got to work.
Bellwether set her jaw at each instruction the medic issued her, but the sick feeling made holding her temper difficult.
"Keep your eyes open for me, please." The lioness said. Bellwether obeyed, permitting the predator to shine a penlight into her eyes. Sharla and Walter stood by the control panel, watching. "Nothing wrong there. You might just need to sleep more."
"That's what I figured." Bellwether was ready to have her thrown out so she could focus on making history.
"What does your stomach feel like exactly?"
"Like there's an alien inside of me." No-one smiled. "I'm joking."
"When did you start feeling sick?"
"A few hours ago." Bellwether retrieved her teacup, wanting to finish it before it got cold. "It's obviously a stomach bug. It can't be a local illness. I've been vaccinated already."
The medic shook her head. "It could be something else. Something we haven't discovered yet. The immunity you've built up should protect you from the worst of it, but I'd like to take a blood sample just to be sure."
"Later." Bellwether said with a finality that made the medic quickly nod and step back. "You'll have your sample if I'm not feeling better by tomorrow. Now please leave. The cutter will be done soon."
The lioness left to rejoin her cohorts outside. The CEO clenched her teeth and gripped her stomach. The countdown read T-Minus fifteen minutes.
Sharla didn't take her eyes off of Bellwether. Bellwether glared back, angered that the medic's visit had failed to convince her that nothing was wrong. Worse, Walter was giving her a funny look, too.
"No-one's sticking a needle in me tonight, and that's final." Bellwether snapped. What was wrong with these people? Was she the only one around here that had her priorities straight?
Walter picked up the wastebasket from beside the control panel and set it in front of Bellwether's chair. "Perhaps we should keep this close, just in case."
"Fine." Bellwether preferred suggestions over orders.
Sharla stepped up and crouched over the older sheep. Oh, for God's sake will you just-
"You know that machine which extracted the pathogen from Clawhauser? What did you do with it?"
Bellwether sighed, glad to receive a question irrelevant to this stupid bug. "In storage. You can study it later."
"You took it out of the cryotube?"
"Er… yes?"
Sharla's features sharpened suddenly. "Before or after Minerva sterilized the compartment?"
"Af-" A feeling of intense worry froze Bellwether stiff. She swallowed and tried again. "After. She insisted.
Walter looked more tense than usual. "What are you implying?"
"Did you touch any part of that machine? Any part at all?"
Any time something went wrong, Bellwether would get angry. Most times she felt a tranquil fury, and true rage had only exploded from her twice in the last ten years.
She couldn't remember the last time fear had struck her instead.
"The slot in the machine. The place the vial had been. That part I touched."
The way Sharla and Walter looked at each other made her composure slip. "Oh, will you two stop being stupid? The machine was clean. It wassafe. Minerva sanitized the fuck out of it!"
"What if the chemicals weren't strong enough?" Sharla asked.
Bellwether's heart seemed to implode at the question. "Even if that was true, it'd still have to get into my bloodstream!"
"Did you touch anything else after you touched the machine? Anything you might have put in your mouth?" Sharla almost shouted.
Bellwether felt sudden horror twist her ailing guts. The answer she gave came out as a whisper. "My brandy. I had my brandy with me. I stirred it with my finger and… Oh fuck."
The teacup fell from her hoof and shattered.
"Let's just stay frosty here." Walter said. "We don't know for sure yet. It could just actually be a stomach bug."
Sharla shook her head, gripping the wool on her head as she spiraled. "We… we need to keep you here. Until we're sure. We need to do blood work. Test everyone and everything and quarantine anyone who tests positive and oh God, we don't have a cure, what the fuck are we supposed to-"
The need to shut her niece up gave Bellwether back her composure, and she stood up and slapped the panic out of her.
"Here's what we're going to do." She hissed. "We are not going to panic, and we are not going to mention this to anyone. Not until we've secured Dhi'haka. You want to quarantine me here? Fine. I can oversee everything from this room anyway."
Speaking helped push back the raging despair threatening to freeze her solid and trap her in her own mind. This isn't over. I'm in control. I have a plan.
"Get that pussy cat back here." She commanded Walter. "Get my blood tested. If I am infected, then screw it. I'll just put myself in a freezer until you can make a cure. Test everyone else once you're done with me."
Sharla sniffled. "The Hunters couldn't make cure. What makes you so sure we'll-"
Bellwether struck her so hard she fell back against the panel. She collapsed to the floor, bleeding from her nose. "Don't. You. Dare."
She had no idea how long she had until she was too far gone. She wouldnotthink about that now. There were too many unknowns right now, and her sanity was under threat. All she knew for sure was that she needed Dhi'haka's secrets more than ever.
This isn't over. This is my moment. I will not be defeated by an insignificant tipple of black goo. I will kill this bug and usher in a new technological era and personally rub it in those motherfuckers' ugly faces!
Speaking of motherfuckers…
Bogo. Hopps. Clawhauser. Wilde. They brought that poison machine here. They did this to me.
"I'll bring her back straight away." Walter brought up his radio.
"Wait!" She screamed her order. She was never supposed to be this afraid, and that made her angrier. She wasn't supposed to fear for her life. She was the wolf in sheep's skin. Those cowards had to resort to trickery to defeat her, they'd wanted her to get infected, the worthless little shits knew the machine was a biohazard risk.
They're dead. No, I'll do worse. They'll be worse than dead. Clawhauser, especially. If he thinks he can pass off his twisted destiny as mine, he can fucking well think again!
Her guts churned. This time she ignored the pain. Eleven minutes remained before the doors opened. That's how much time she had to decide who would die, and who would endure something worse.
This time, I'll do it myself.
"The prisoners. Bring them here. All four of them."