Metamorphosis Alpha 2

by Craig Martelle (ed)

  “Hold up,” Shatzi commanded.

  Her mind could sense a number of beings close by. On one side she pointed out a group of wolfoids slinking up a small gully. On the other side, far away, a few little figures strode through tall wild grasses. They were short like froggies, but she couldn’t say for certain. All of them were going in the same direction.

  “We’ve waited too long. I count at least ten others in pursuit of our treasure. You weren’t lying, Jaz. This is making a splash,” Shatzi said ominously.

  Jaz replied, though didn’t sound overly serious. “Give ‘em to me. I’ll rip ‘em in half.”

  Again they ran together. The machine had to be very heavy because it created deep troughs in the soft ground. The turned soil was far thicker and richer than back at home, which was a waste because no one farmed in such dangerous territory.

  She was deep in thought when more runners caught her notice directly ahead along the line of tracks.

  Jaz noted them, too. “We’re catching up,” the bear huffed.

  “You know what to do if it comes to a fight. Jaz you’ll be in front. Billy and Tiam in the middle. I’ll watch the back until we see what’s going to happen,” Shatzi commanded in a low voice.

  They all swapped places on the run as if they’d rehearsed it. They were more than ready once they reached smelling distance of the jogging humanoids.

  “Ugg. You know these delightful people?” Billy yelled back to her. He always assumed she knew any humanoids they encountered because she traveled so much of the level, but she’d never met these in person.

  No one had bothered to count how many creatures and tribes were on Level 8, but she’d heard of a people that had taken to living in the untamed marsh lands. It was said they’d fused their skin with very stinky mold spores as a defense mechanism. Her husband called them a myth, but there they were.

  “No, I’ve never met them. I wonder how they got wind of this treasure?” she wondered aloud.

  “Ha! How did that wind not break when it reached them? We’ve got to pass. I’m being strangled with their stink,” Billy shouted and coughed. His voice carried to the runners ahead of them, and the mold forms turned as if controlled by the same brain.

  “Oh, no,” she cried. “Halt and get ready. They’re coming for us.”

  The situation had gone from comical to deadly serious in moments. But even if her precognition was broken, she still had her fighting and tactical skills. She moved to the front next to Jaz and angled her spear forward. She’d done this a thousand times, though seldom with these exact three teammates.

  “Billy, we don’t have time to fight. Can you project fear into their brains? Make us into spiders, or something.” Spiders scared everyone. It was the go-to monster when she wanted to frighten or distract an opponent, rather than kill them.

  Billy glared at the five shambling men, but the mold people continued to advance. Their skin was completely coated in black mold, which gave them the appearance of wearing thick fur. Their all-white eyes seemed to shine from within the tufts around their sockets.

  They’d crossed half the distance—about fifty feet—by using an unsteady lope. A kind of drunken gait with only the vaguest hint they knew where they were going.

  “I don’t think it’s working,” she called out.

  Billy strained, then relented. “They have resistance to me. I can’t get into their minds to insert a hallucination.”

  That was bad. It could mean any number of things. They could have high-tech Warden gear, which shielded their brains. The pure humans often traveled with those, making them very formidable foes in any number greater than one. Or they had a natural passive immunity created by the mold. Or they were actively blocking Billy.

  That thought tickled her senses.

  “They’re intelligent!” she yelled.

  The five humanoids stood a little straighter and ran directly for them, rather than shamble aimlessly. It was as if they knew they’d been correctly identified as dangerous.

  “Oh crap,” she voiced as the two groups met. The mold people meant to do them harm, so it was time to return the favor.

  The first creature arrived—there was no easy way to differentiate men and women—and she skewered its chest with her spear.

  Two of the moldies attacked opposite sides of Jaz by climbing her flanks. She reared up on her hind legs, forcing the boarders to tug on her fur to hang on. She roared and fell over, crushing one of them without so much as a whimper.

  The last two creatures focused their energy on Billy. He met the first with a swipe of his little knife across its stomach, releasing a vile-smelling, bright green fluid that sprayed all over him. Shatzi, trying to come to his aide, felt her stomach churn so violently at the smell that she halted to keep from puking, but Billy seemed to revel in the filth.

  As the first fell, he jumped onto the arm of the second, scampered onto its shoulders, then ran the knife roughly across the moldy neck. He continued to thrash his blade as they both fell to the ground, and more green blood sloshed onto the dirt.

  When that one was picked apart, he went back to his other kill and split it open in numerous places. He finished by walking to the moldie she’d speared and sliced at it until the green blood stopped draining out.

  His fighting style was to use his knife until the enemy was dead beyond any doubt. She’d once witnessed him slash the side of a rogue golden bear, crawl inside, and bring the massive beast down by slicing endlessly from within. For good reason, she never told Jaz that story.

  For a little guy, he had

  no fear, except from the dark. She often wondered if the flaw was common to all his kin because their skin glowed on command.

  The stench from the mold-creatures’ blood all around her became too much. Shatzi hunched over on her knees and surrendered her breakfast. She, the leader of the expedition. The veteran explorer who’d seen it all.

  You okay? Jaz asked softly inside her mind when the fireworks were over.

  Shatzi shot her a glance filled with confusion. Her body continued to dry heave, but still her concern was her teammate. “Where’s the second one that was on your back? Are you hurt?”

  Jaz laughed out loud. “From these guys? Please. The second is under my butt cheek.”

  Tiam hissed in laughter.

  Shatzi smiled. Her friends were all okay, and she immediately felt much better. The wave of nausea from that disgusting blood had spent itself.

  “All right. Let’s keep moving. Get out of this wafting stench,” Shatzi advised as she regained her feet.

  It embarrassed her for showing such a glaring weakness in front of her team. Her husband would have chewed her out for what she’d allowed herself to do, but it wasn’t like she could hide it, or control it. Her stomach had a mind of its own.

  ***

  The old farmlands were less uniform in the Middle Grounds. They became gentle rolling hills with a little more overgrowth. It would have been mildly difficult to traverse had it not been for the giant vehicle tracks. The machine had crushed big bushes and ripped out little trees as it plowed straight ahead toward its destination. When they reached the crest of a rise, she finally caught sight of it about a mile ahead.

  “There! I think—” She studied the boxy metal vehicle to determine if it was still moving. The light continued to ebb in the sky above as the day cycle was near its end. Still, she got a good look at the target and the gaggle of other creatures following it.

  “Yes! It hasn’t stopped. We aren’t too late,” Shatzi said to her three friends. “But there’s a new problem. Don’t be shocked when you see how many other treasure hunters are tracking the same quarry as us.”

  Jaz released an earth-shaking laugh. “I told you. The rumors for this are unlike anything I’ve seen. That little wolfie was telling the truth, may the Captain bless him.”

  “I think he told the truth to the whole ship,” Shatzi said.

  “Yeah, it sure looks that way,” Jaz answered.
>
  Billy stood next to her, looking at their target. “Maybe if we got ahead of it? We could guess where it was going and get there first. Get in and out before all those losers show up.”

  It was out-of-the-box thinking from the little thief. As good as he was with the knife, she appreciated he often tried to avoid combat. That got her thinking about the shapes walking behind the machine. Were they intelligent? Maybe they’d just been attracted by the movement and noise and weren’t following for any other reason. That would make it much easier to chase them away.

  Her mind reached out with a pulse of psychic energy as her elders showed her long ago. They called it a mental snapshot—a way to douse the landscape with that power and in return “see” the psychic strength of multiple adversaries. If the resulting image was dark, it meant low mental enhancements. That almost always signified a lack of intelligence, though there was that one time she mistook a group of pure humans in Wardarian battle armor …

  Her temples burned as the image returned. Bright orange dots all over the place.

  They were like her and had considerable talent upstairs.

  She was about to respond when motion caught her eye from nearby.

  “Buzzers!” she cried out. They were drawn to the use of mental energy, and she’d just painted the whole hillside with it.

  Jaz roared because bees always went for the creature presenting the biggest target.

  There was only a small group of them and the fist-sized monsters went where expected. Jaz tumbled and swatted to get away from the attackers, though several bees fell from the air just a foot or two before they reached her.

  Billy held his ground nearby, knife at the ready.

  Tiam? She looked for the lizard man, but he wasn’t in view. It wasn’t like him to dodge a fight, but he wasn’t around for the mold men, either. Did she make a mistake allowing him to come along? Was he going to run at the first tingle of trouble? Where was he?

  She watched again as one of the bees flew for Jaz, stopped in mid-air, broke apart, then fell to the ground. A shimmer had captured and killed it. A second one followed the first to its doom.

  In moments, everything was calm again.

  “Hisssss.”

  Tiam appeared out of the shimmer next to Jaz and Shatzi was dismayed that she’d overlooked one of his talents. He’d used his cloaking ability to place himself between Jaz and the bees. They were caught by surprise when he chomped on them without revealing himself. The buzzers were drawn by bursts of intelligence, but they weren’t too smart themselves.

  She was overwhelmed with pride by her team. Jaz, the golden bear, now wiping the slime into the weeds. Tiam, the blue lizard man, also cleaning pieces of buzzer from himself. And Billy the knife-wielding raccoon thief—he’d stood there, ready for action next to her. They were all as different as the grove of mixed trees along the borderlands, but in the wilder country, they were her people.

  She waved them to follow as she walked briskly in the direction of the rambling machine.

  It was important they not see her tears of pride.

  Those were unbecoming of a warrior princess.

  ***

  She admitted she wasn’t really a princess. In fact, the word came mostly from her grandmother’s stories from when she was a wee. As she got older and the facts of life about Level 8 became clearer, she’d come to understand no tribe had kings and queens or princes and princesses. If they did, it would be easy to destroy the fighting spirit of that community by killing or capturing their beloved figurehead.

  She fondly recalled her father calling her princess, but her friends knew her only as a warrior. And warriors, as a rule, don’t weep openly with the emotion of sappy pride.

  Over the next mile, they gradually caught up to the rolling behemoth. From behind they couldn’t get the full picture, but it appeared to have a significant weight and girth along with a bent metal beam holding a giant shovel. It rolled on huge black wheels, though they had gobs of dirt stuck in the nooks.

  A few times they’d gotten close to fights with an increasing number of hangers-on behind and next to the wheeled digger, but soon even the most rabid mutants calmed down. No one with any sense wanted to fight everyone else, and there wasn’t enough trust to form alliances while on the move.

  As dusk turned into nighttime, four little orbs came out of slots on the outer shell, floated upward, and lit up while over the machine. They provided sufficient light to see the way through the brush and keep an eye or two on the other walkers.

  Unwilling to blast the whole crowd with mental energy again, Shatzi used a passive version of it. It allowed her to absorb nearby mental energy and build a second sight in her mind, but without giving herself away. It took more time than the active version she’d used earlier, but she welcomed the challenge.

  When the picture was complete, it confirmed what she already knew: there was a significant trafficking of mental abilities from the parties of treasure hunters around her. Some were stronger than she’d ever encountered and displayed as bright white rather than the usual stay-away orange.

  “Keep close,” she whispered. It was safer than using telepathy in such company. Her people gathered to her. They were no more than fifty yards behind the digger—not in the thick of the growing audience, but not too far, either.

  Here and there she’d heard the clang of metal or the scream of psychic energy being released. Rarer, and from points she couldn’t identify in the darkness, she saw the flash of energy weapons. The presence of such a large group would attract all sorts of attention from wandering beings.

  Fortunately, she’d guided her three friends directly behind the truck. She was using everyone else as a shield to deflect new threats in their path. The other parties closest to her were using the same tactics, and those were the ones she needed to watch.

  That thought ended almost in mid-sentence for her.

  They’d arrived.

  ***

  The machine stopped abruptly, sending an anxious titter out into the field of groupies.

  “Now. Move fast,” she ordered. Her team followed her up the trough of the tire track. They arrived at the same time as a nearby group of wolfoids she’d been eyeing, as well as a pair of frogs clad in some pretty serious homemade armor. She tried to project calm indifference but so did they.

  They were professionals.

  The machine beeped a few times, then spoke. “Farm Shovel 15 on station. Begin extraction. Please clear work area. Thank you, from your friends on the Warden.”

  The lights floating above seemed to congregate where the great shovel was about to take a first bite of the earth. Shatzi tugged on the fur of Jaz to get her to follow. She drifted along the side of the machine as gears inside ground together, and the engine chugged. The scooper dipped into the soil and dredged up a five-foot by five-foot bucket of it.

  Her team arrived on the edge of the light, so she had a great view of the excavation. Other leaders gathered around the hole as she had done. Her friends stood behind her. Most leaders had their own people lined up behind them. She found it kind of funny they all seemed to share that trait.

  A wolf’s voice startled her. “I see you made it okay.” The newcomer stood next to her also looking into the hole.

  “Heya, Keller. Leading things on your end? I’m sorry we couldn’t work together on this.” She dropped to one knee to get down to his level, and faced forward so as not to insult him.

  “Agreed, Shatz. The Sacred Metal Box said my tribe would find this, though someone obviously has the open mouth of a wolf cub.”

  She was positive how the rumor spread everywhere on Level 8.

  “Uh, huh. Did you guys have any trouble getting here? It seems there are lots of shaky hands,” she said in a casual voice. It was a common phrase that she and the more experienced explorers gave to those who only cared about accumulating treasure. She knew from hard experience most of the stuff wasn’t worth stealing because someone always comes looking for it.
>
  But this—whatever was in the hole—was something everyone wanted. The “it” down there would potentially be something they all fought over tonight. Then fought over again tomorrow. Maybe forever. Keller. The frogs. Almost everyone would fight to the death to get it. She frowned at how her brain endlessly sized up everyone as a potential threat.

  Keller shrugged. She accidentally read his mind—something she seldom did on people she knew—and his thoughts matched his speech.

  “I’m tired of the big secret, honestly,” he offered in a quiet moment. “Whatever this is better be worth it.”

  “Yeah!” shouted a woman from across the circle after overhearing him. Soon there were more shouts of agreement. A menagerie of sticks, spears, bows, swords, and maces clanged in anticipation inside the circle. It was a friendly gesture of fraternity she never would have thought possible from those assembled.

  While the noise from the crowd was at its loudest, Keller leaned to her. “Watch the back. In the darkness. There are metal men, see-through humanoids, and even a pure blood or three. They want to see this, too, and for reasons we cannot know.”

  He returned to his straight stance and they both watched the hole expand.

  But her eyes scanned the darkness.

  ***

  It only took a little while before the digger retracted its arm. It bent itself to reach the top of its metal body and stuck the shovel inside. When it pulled back out, the shovel was gone—replaced by a big hook.

  “Here we go,” she said to no one in particular.

  The machine lowered the hook into the pit, and it clanged onto something metal.

  “Treasure!” someone shouted from the onlookers.

  Murmurs of excitement rippled behind the leaders.

  The whole truck strained and even slumped toward the hole as it got hold of the thing at the bottom. A large round cylinder came up out of the dirt. The machine whirred and adjusted the hook. It dropped it right next to Shatzi, unhooked itself from the object, then retracted the arm.

  “Extraction complete. Farm Shovel 15 going off station. Zero injuries reported at this job site. If you were injured, kindly visit the nearest medical kiosk for treatment. The crew of the Warden thanks you for your adherence to safety.”