Horseplay

by Cam Daly

  “We only have a few more hours to go, Connor. You can do this. Turn me on every hour from now on, so that I can think.” Then she was gone.

  Connor finished the climb and faced Harris and the other two Tumorish.

  “We finished the task successfully.”

  Harris studied him for another moment. “Are you fully integrated yet?”

  Connor felt intensely vulnerable with the open pit behind him. The gaze of the camera on the side of Harris’ head added almost unbearable weight to their scrutiny of him. “My memories are still incomplete, but my skills have returned. I am not in need of recycling.”

  “Good. Since you don’t have any cranial damage from your conversion, you are probably best qualified to meet with the human technicians in Martinez’s place. They are very squeamish. Go to building 4 and take over there. Did Martinez instruct you in our mission parameters?”

  “Yes. I am aware of them.”

  “Gregor and I will attempt to recycle Martinez. Mason will take you to building 4.” And that was the end of it. He walked away from the scene of his first murder. He wasn’t even sure it really counted as murder, to kill a Tumorish, but he hoped that Martinez didn’t have a family somewhere that would some day ask him how he died.

  Mason was half a head taller than Connor and built like a bouncer from a very high end club. Connor wondered where he had been taken from, since his tan didn’t seem like it would have occurred naturally in San Francisco, but he didn’t want to risk any small talk.

  A minute later they entered building 4. This part of the complex was more of an office building than the previous two had been. It had carpets and less fluorescent lighting.

  Mason led him to a room where another Tumorish was stationed. As Connor and Mason entered, he turned to look at them with another of the Craven-connected camera headsets.

  He stood, took it off and handed it to Connor. “It uses the human cellular radio network, so it will work even with the collider in this operating mode. Your primary task is to check the human’s locations every few hours. The Master is very busy, but will instruct you when he needs you.” He stared at Connor for a moment in expectation.

  Connor was petrified. He had to wear one of these? That would make it impossible to pass himself off as a VSE staff member. His fingers trembled slightly as he placed it above his ear and strapped the retainer clip over his head to keep it in place.

  Mason delivered one parting order in a voice which was even more gravelly than Connor would have expected. “Remember - don’t harm Sousa.” He grinned crookedly. His jaw had been broken at some point and never set properly. “When we go expo, he is to be left unconverted. Everyone else is fair game. Understood?”

  “Yes.” He tried to hide his confusion as Mason and the other Tumorish turned and left.

  What did “go expo” mean? An expo, like a fair? Why would Sousa be converted at a fair? Was there a big fair here in Dallas? Were they planning an attack on…then suddenly he understood. “Expo” was short for exponential growth - unchecked, rampant conversion. The nightmare scenario that Kery mentioned would mean that the Craven saw no further use from humanity.

  And Mason had used “when,” not “if.” It was going to happen soon.

  A buzz - not really a voice - sounded in his ear. It rasped in a way that told him that it had not evolved to speak a language like English at all. “Cooperrrrr.” It drew his pseudonym out like a saw chewing through wood. “Find DeVrrrrieees. It is almost time for the next phase of our operation. You will need to stay close to him. Very close.”

  DeVries was the one human in this place who might be able to recognize Connor. And the Craven would be watching the entire time.

  INTERLUDE

  The Molu command tank was a water-filled chamber almost two meters on each side. The chemical composition of the water was similar to that naturally occurring on Earth, with a few adjustments to more closely match their aquatic homeworld. The work stations and devices within the tank ran on electricity, something which the Molu might have never discovered if an alien warship hadn't crashed into the planet-covering sea they evolved in. They had developed their own simple pneumatic technology before it fell from the sky, but study of the alien ship’s systems catapulted their development forward by ten thousand years.

  The two injured Molu mothers and a doctor were in an isolation tank, and the crew of Farley was at work finalizing the Interloper for operation, but the rest of Team Ormlan was clustered around their posts. They double checked parameters for the impending simulation, preparing for a variety of possible contingencies. Finally, they agreed that they were ready.

  In this simulation of a Fleet Planning Stage environment, they appeared as and spoke like Shadow. “Mezerello. Report status.”

  The woman on the bed slab rose into a sitting position, then looked at her arms. “What’s up with these?” They were longer, thicker and stronger than what she had before. Data glyphs appeared along them, giving her performance details.

  “They are more appropriate for your next test than the previous ones.”

  Mezerello opened and closed her fists, noting how much more hair there was on them than the last body. “They look like men’s arms. Is this going to be a close-range simulation? A lot of hand to hand?”

  “We don’t want to give it all away, but yes. Your targets will be Tumorish infiltrators in human form. The setting will be San Francisco.”

  She snorted. “That’s what you said last time, then you threw me into an arena with Keryapt Zess. That was hardly fair.”

  “These simulations are not designed to be ‘fair’. Life often isn’t. We are-“

  “Whoa.” She had hopped off the table and realized her body was different as well. “Now this is nice!”

  “Yes, we thought you would appreciate it. We have changed the simulation parameters to improve your mobility. The torso and legs are the latest Interloper design from Paleon Industries. Your head and sensor package are still the previous generation Intruder, so don’t be surprised by that.”

  Mezerello took a quick sprint around the room, then leapt from wall to ceiling and back. “The arms are a bit heavy, but it’s a big improvement. But why all these weird chimeric bodies? Why the simulations? Shadow, what aren’t you telling me?”

  The last time she had asked about her circumstances, her tone had been more apologetic. Now she sounded somewhat irritated. Ormlan knew that suspicion would follow. “Just a couple more scenarios, then we will be able to explain everything. We promise. For now, we will leave you to set the Stage as you like to accustom yourself to the body.”

  “Fine.” She punched, kicked and rolled around imaginary enemies as Shadow faded from view. “But who is ‘we’?”

  A dozen pairs of Molu eyes glanced back and forth in the command tank. The personal pronoun had been set incorrectly by the assistant system specialist, taking the place of one of the injured mothers.

  He made a note for the next time they gave Mezerello orders. If everything went according to plan, it would be the last.

  CHAPTER 12

  The camera headset was designed for the benefit of the Craven watching through it, not the Tumorish wearing it. There was no indicator of whether or not it was in active use. Kery had made clear that the early Craven life cycle was incredibly violent, and only the strongest and most paranoid made it to adulthood. Connor had to assume that he could be monitored at any time and any mistake would result in his death.

  Thankfully it was the middle of the night and there was no one else in this section of building 4. After the crowded loading bay and long drives with Martinez, it should have felt good to be away from the Tumorish. The headset ruined any sense of relief, but at least he was finally in the correct building.

  On the data tablet in the office, there was a list of where all the VSE personnel were quartered. He was disappointed that it didn’t include maps of the other buildings, but it was a good place to start. He held the tablet so that the Sneake
r camera had a clear view as he cycled through maps of all three floors, and found the location of DeVries’ office on the top level. He took the tablet and headed there.

  The lack of people moving nearby didn’t mean the building was quiet. There was an omnipresent hum which he could almost feel more than hear. At the end of one long hallway he caught a glimpse of a trio of Knight mechs patrolling, and thought that he heard voices from one elevator going down as he waited for one to take him up. Thankfully the Craven hadn’t spoken to him again.

  While he rode the elevator up, he checked the room assignments on the third floor. Sousa was listed there, in a room with someone named Park. There weren’t any pictures of the men, but Connor had instructions to check on them so hopefully he could quickly find the key man and figure out some way to communicate with him.

  There were offices at regular intervals down either side of the hall, but DeVries apparently rated a large corner office. Connor slowed as he approached, trying to figure out a way to avoid making himself visible. He still had the fake beard and mustache on. The man hadn’t seemed that interested in Connor during their previous meeting, hopefully he wouldn’t imagine that Connor could show up here.

  Another question loomed. Would a Tumorish knock? They hadn’t before, when interacting with each other, but they might have different orders when interacting with the humans. Connor didn’t want to attract any extra attention from DeVries which would make him seem unusual amongst the Tumorish. He compromised by rattling the door knob for a second before entering.

  The overhead lights were off in the office but enough spilled in from the hall for Connor to make out a human shape on a sofa. It was a luxurious office and the sofa probably cost more than all the furniture in Connor’s apartment, but the bald man groaning to consciousness didn’t look quite as polished. His dress shirt was wrinkled and a haze of stubble covered his chin.

  DeVries blinked at his watch for a moment. “What the hell do you want now, Broaalg? It’s three in the damned morning.” He rubbed his eyes and made a sound somewhere between a yawn and a groan. He clearly didn’t think of the Craven as his master.

  A response emanated from some external speaker on Connor’s headset, startling him. “I called. You did not answer.” The more that Connor heard that voice, the less he wanted to be anywhere near the body part which created it.

  “I needed rest. You and your damned Tumorish never sleep. What’s wrong now?”

  “Ormlaaaan has informed me that the Fleet Active is coming here. Today. We will need to relocate the scientists soon. Cooper here will assist you. Prepare them.”

  The warning that an Active was coming seemed to wake DeVries. “How long do we have?” He was squinting towards Connor now, eyes trying to adjust to the light from the hall.

  “Ormlan did not know with certainty.”

  “So, she still isn’t using anti-gravity. Most likely she will use a vehicle to get close then come on foot.” Connor had assumed that DeVries was a bureaucrat who took orders from Ormlan, but the way he talked made him seem more of a partner.

  “I will equip my men in the other buildings with appropriate weaponryyy. Have yours stand ready to dissssable the collider if she does come that way.”

  DeVries stood and walked towards his desk. “I will. Just make sure that none of your ‘men’ come into building 4 while armed. We wouldn’t want to have a misunderstanding, would we?” The barely veiled threat started Connor thinking.

  “I will bet youuuuuuu one million dollars that she comes tonight.”

  What the hell?

  “Broaalg, I already told you that I don’t have a million dollars to spare.”

  “A finger, thennnnn.”

  “I’m not betting any body parts with you. Ever. Stop asking.”

  Broaalg spoke directly to Connor next. “Enough of him. Wake the other humans. Make especially sure that Sousa is ready for transport. The others are of little use to us if this facility is lost.”

  Connor turned and left without having ever spoken. DeVries had shown no sign of recognition and he wanted to keep it that way.

  #

  Sousa and Park should be in a room around the corner and farther up the hall. It looked like there were a dozen or so scientists on this floor and perhaps twice as many technicians and support personnel on the second floor.

  Connor padded along the carpeted floor towards Sousa’s room, lost in thought. How could he communicate with Sousa while wearing the camera? He wasn’t sure if he could block its microphones by just putting his hands around them, and hiding it in a drawer or closet would be suspicious. Perhaps he could try holding it next to some sort of loud machinery? Whatever he decided, it would have to be done with the utmost discretion. Any mistake could be fatal if the Craven was watching.

  All of the doors in the hallway seemed to lead to darkened rooms. The VSE scientists trapped here were sleeping in their offices, it seemed. He found the door, again decided against knocking and barged in. The wedge of light from the hall showed desks, computers, whiteboards and a form struggling to get out of a low cot in the corner. Connor stepped into the room and turned on the lights.

  The form in the corner suddenly separated into two cursing forms, each trying to hide itself under the single blanket on the cot without success. One of the voices was female. It took Connor a second to realize he had walked in on an intimate moment. “Oh, crap! I’m sorry.”

  The man scrambled sideways, reaching for clothing strewn on the floor. As he abandoned his hold on the blanket, the woman pulled it closer and retreated into the corner.

  “Who are you?” She sounded more angry than embarrassed. She was of Asian ancestry, with short hair which seemed to stick off in every direction at the same time. Her face was very petite and made him think of a pixie or some other type of woodland fairy.

  The man had cursed in Spanish or something like it when the lights came on. Where she was thin and pale, he was heavy set and hairy. She must be Park, and he was Sousa. They were both younger than he expected, and she was considerably less…male. For some reason he had visualized Sousa as a balding white man in a lab coat. At the moment he was struggling to get his pants on.

  Connor kept his eyes on Park as Sousa fumbled with his belt buckle. “I’m James. I’m really sorry.“

  Her head tilted a tiny bit. She had noticed the headset. “You’re…sorry?”

  Shit. Tumorish didn’t apologize.

  Sousa stopped wrestling with his pants and stared at Connor as well.

  Park’s face scrunched up in obvious confusion. “You aren’t-“

  Connor lurched forward towards the pair of them. “Sssh! Ssssssh!” He pulled the headset off and shoved it under a pillow right next to Park, then pushed down hard on it. Park jerked backwards from him but didn’t say anything further. Sousa froze in place.

  Connor whispered, hoping the headset couldn’t make out any sounds. “You’re in terrible danger. I’m not one of them. I’m here to help you.”

  “What? How?” The man spoke for the first time. He had a strong accent.

  “The Tumorish. The thing I’m pretending to be. Looks like a man but doesn’t quite act like one? They’re going to turn you into more like them, once things here are done.” Not exactly the truth, but close enough for the moment. “They sent me to wake you and get you ready to travel. But I have a friend who is going to help us get away, after we turn off the decoherence field.” He pulled the Sneaker phone out and thumbed the button.

  The two of them shared a sidelong glance with each other. Then she spoke for them. “They said we were stuck here because the research was so valuable that they couldn’t risk a leak. Apparently it was in our contracts. But why - how - would they ‘turn us into’ more like them? What do you mean by ‘Tumorish’?”

  The phone came to life. There was less than half a charge, so he hoped that Kery could be very persuasive, very quickly. “Talk to my friend, Kery. I have to put the headset back on - if they suspect me, they’l
l kill me. Or worse. I’ll be in the hall, listening in.” He pushed the phone into Sousa’s hand, pulled the headset out and put it back on as he left the room. If the Tumorish came for him in the hall, at least the two lovers would have a few extra seconds to decide what to do.

  #

  For Keryapt, the first few times the power was cut were the hardest. She would be in the middle of a thought and then suddenly realize she had no idea what she was thinking about. After that she changed the settings in the Planning Stage system to use the lights as a warning that power was going out. She would force herself to stop her current thought and just stare at a virtual table or other surface. Then when the power came back, it was like the lights were coming on and she was still staring at the table.

  She was awake again. One wall of the Stage was dedicated to the Sneaker phone, and as she returned to full consciousness she realized that two strangers were looking towards it. There was no equivalent display on the phone to reveal her condition - she was just seeing through its forward facing camera.

  The human female spoke. “Hello?”

  Keryapt had been around humans enough now to recognize fear. She felt some herself to not see Connor around. Only 30 minutes had passed since he had last activated the communications harness. “Hello. Where is…the man who had this phone?”

  “He’s out in the hall.”

  She could tell that the phone’s wireless earpiece was active - Connor could hear the conversation. Keryapt felt a wave of relief. “Why can’t he talk?”

  “He has on a headset with a camera. He seems scared of it.”

  A Craven command and control device. “Connor - can you hear me? If so, tap the earpiece once.”

  TAP.

  “The Craven is probably too busy to monitor your data feed most of the time, but you have to assume he could be watching you at any moment.”

  TAP.

  The woman interrupted. “Kery, he told us that we were in danger and that you were going to help us. Who are you? Who is he?”

  If the pair of humans were under observation, the enemy would probably let her reveal as much as possible before intruding. She had to be careful about what she said. “I’m a friend. Who are you?”