Operation Chimera by Matthew S. Cox, Tony Healey

“I’m almost as smart as you. They skipped me ahead.”
    Aaron ruffled his hair. “Pah, you’re a damn genius, I’m just some grunt with wings. Where’s Mom and Dad?” Aaron glanced at the facing seat, empty save for a small card and tiny silver gift box.
    Sam shrugged. “Too busy.”
    “Yeah…” Aaron picked at a button on the empty jacket. “They always are.”

    Liam yawned, leaning against a tree and enjoying the shade it provided. Fingers clawed through a bowl of flavored peanuts, popping them one at a time into his mouth. A few missed, but he did not bother to find them, leaving them for the squirrels. It had been hours and not one twitch moved his fishing pole; but that was beside the point. He had not come out here to catch anything tangible.
    “Anythin’ yet?” asked Bob, a set of green-brown overalls and dark blue flannel to his left.
    He never quite looked far enough to his side to see a face, but Bob was his fishing buddy every time he came here. “Not yet.”
    “Amazing they get the trees to grow on this rock. How long did it take them to terraform it?”
    Liam leaned forward with a grunt, removing the pole from the holder and reeling in the line. “How should I know?” He recast it, letting the lure trail through the upper few inches of the stream.
    “Did they even put fish in this river?” Bob recast as well.
    “Maybe,” said Liam. “I suppose it’s stupid to cast a lure and not even know if there’s anything in there.”
    “Well, fishin’ for fish isn’t about the fish. It’s about relaxin’.”
    “Yep.”
    “Only I figure yer not fishin’ for fish,” said Bob. The brow of a hat shifted. Bob was looking at him, but still had no face. He could have been anyone. “You don’t think them fish bite on replicants, do you?”
    A peanut sailed over Liam’s head.
    “That’s not…” He sighed. “Well, maybe.”
    “What’s her name?”
    “Ain’t no
her
, Bob. Just a theoretical her.”
    “I see, hence throwin’ your lure in unknown water. Maybe you’re just not fishin’ in the right place.”
    “Maybe. Sure is peaceful here though, innit?”
    “Yep. Well, at least you got that.”
    “What?”
    “Peace.”
    Liam chuckled, staring at the unmoving reel. “Yeah… At least I got that.”

    Zavex walked through a gossamer haze of luminous blue curtains. Loose robe-like garments surrounded him, clasped at the shoulder with a gold pin. Glowing thermpods, lumpy crimson orbs the size of fists, hovered above small sconces around the dim chamber. Their radiant heat provided both warmth as well as light to the Talnurian eye. Niria stood at the far end of the space, hovering by a decorative metal podium above which perched a slab of clear glass, covered with glowing yellow letters in a fancy elongated script.
    He approached her, pausing two paces behind. “Sister, do you continue to have these troubling visions?”
    The woman turned, her long hair-quills clicked as she moved. Unlike the men, her face was smooth. Grey lines traced over her skin where a male would have ridges, accentuated with silver and gold face-paint. Her low-cut robes showed the beginning of the light grey coloration that many Talnurians had on their chest and abdomen. Her smile warmed his heart, and he bowed his head.
    “Vas’una guide me, but I have seen no cause for them yet. I see warriors, broken and dying. I must attend to them.” She brushed past him, clasping hands for a fleeting instant. “I have made my decision. I will pledge to the Yldris.”
    Zavex gasped. “But, you are Ra’ala. You cannot―”
    “The warriors need my help. They are aware that I am not permitted to harm one who does not threaten my life, or the life of someone to whom I tend.”
    “But, Niria, a Ra’ala should not kill under any circumstances. It’s irreverent.”
    She faced him, gown whirling about her legs. “Vas’una has shown me this. It must be.”
    He frowned at her swishing tail. At least men lacked that