A Slice of Unkindness

by D C McLaughlin

  Morris sniffed derisively. “Political systems neva seem ta ’ave a sense of oomor!”

  “Wait!” interrupted Edgar. “They dumped him here because they didn’t like his art? When did the bureaucracy start going after artists?”

  Daniel nodded. “Exactly! They don’t want us to know what’s happening on the other worlds. Things on the outside are changing. Not just on Castor 5 but on other planets in the solar system. We’re not just getting cut-throats and hooligans anymore. They cull anyone who displeases them in any way and they send them here to work in the factory refineries. That man was no hardened criminal. He was an artist! He added beauty to the world.”

  Daniel paused. “The transplanted legs did not work because he had been dead too long by the time we got him. The circulatory system had already begun to decay. The limbs would have never worked.”

  Daniel sighed heavily. “There is nothing beautiful about a corpse!”

  There was a stunned silence.

  The Chamberlin broke the quiet. “All of you, save the boy, are transplants. How did you come to this world?”

  All eyes turned to Daniel. He flinched briefly and his long, blue, fingers twitched.

  “I was not born,” he began hesitantly. “I was created. When you humans first ventured into space and encountered aliens, they became paranoid. They were worried they would encounter a hostile race and humans might become an endangered species. So they played god and created me out of cells in a petrie dish in the lab. I was created to make more humans. That was my only purpose. I was designed to mate with a man or a woman and reproduce children. Or to self impregnate and reproduce that way.”

  Morris gasped. “And it worked?”

  Daniel gave a rueful laugh. “Well if it hadn’t worked, I would have been euthanized like all the other failed experiments. Yes, I can and have had children. I was paraded about to every university for a while as a triumph of science. The ironic thing was although they created me to save the human race, the authorities in the scientific world frequently treated me as anything but human. Some even referred to me as ‘it’ since they didn’t have a term for what I was. They thought they were being more scientifically accurate in doing this. But all they really did was strip away any reason to treat me humanely, meanwhile giving themselves an excuse to talk around or over me instead of to me.

  “I did as I was made to do and had children which they immediately took away from me. I wasn’t even allowed to name them. No one ever asked me if I wanted to be a parent. And I do, desperately. Every minute I have to myself, I am searching for what happened to my children, where they are, how they are being treated, any scrap of information… which is how I came to this planet.

  “I am a lousy criminal. I was caught breaking into a restricted area to look for the files about my children. I tried to explain why I did what I did. But nobody cared enough to listen,” he said apologetically.

  All eyes turned to Morris next. Her expression became hard and her eyes glittered dangerously. “I didn’t do anytin’!” she insisted. “My uncle, who raised me, was caught selling secrets ta tha wrong party. ’E did it because the government hadn’t paid him fer a while and we needed food. We were hungry. ’E complained to ’is employers. But they did nothing. ’E tried ta tell ’is side of tha story. Nobody listened to ’im. Nobody cared. They punished ’im by sendin’ me ta this god-forsaken, armpit of tha universe. They made an example of me.”

  She bristled in anger, jumped out of her chair and began to pace fitfully, muttering over and over again, “I should nae even be ’ere! I dinna belong ’ere. I neva broke any law. I dinna do anytin’!”

  The Chamberlin shook his head and then looked at Edgar. She glanced around in surprise. “Well you know why I’m here. I was tricked. Before Castor 5, I was an archeologist, a good one. I more than earned the title of Professor. I traveled the galaxy going to different digs. I was Edgar Rose Norse, Professor of Ancient Alien Anthropology. If there was an extinct race with little known about the people but a dig site on some obscure planet, I was there.

  “Then I found out too much. I discovered something the government wanted kept silent. I assured them I wouldn’t blab the information to the world. But they didn’t trust me. They made sure I’d end up here, someplace I would never be able to leave. I shouldn’t even be here. But nobody cared enough to listen. Nobody cared.”

  Morris sat down next to Edgar and squeezed her hand.

  The room fell silent again.

  “Sometin’s gotta give,” Morris spoke up suddenly. “I’ve seen tings at tha clinic tha’ would nae be tolerated on other worlds. Anyone who works a’ tha fuel refineries lives a shortened lifespan. They might ’ave children. But they definitely won’t survive long enough ta be grandparents. Sometimes they dinna even live tha’ long. An’ if their children are orphaned, they get sen’ ta Miss Madeline’s until they’re old enough ta be put ta work a’ tha refinery. Life at Miss Madeline’s is awful. Warren can attest ta tha’.”

  He nodded. “I was the only one there besides the supervisors who could read,” he told them. “There certainly weren’t any books. They taught us a little about reading but not enough. They needed us just smart enough to do the work, not smart enough to figure out how unfair our lives were. Nobody cared about a bunch of orphans born to criminals. Nobody cares.”

  Edgar sniffed scornfully. “Because if you were too smart, you’d be a deka. And they needed drones more because they kept dying off, killed by the work. On any other planet, they’d have robots working in the refineries, inhuman metal creatures for inhumane working conditions. But not here. Castor 5 is just a planet full of criminals and nobody cares what happens to them. Good riddance even if they die. Nobody cares.”

  Edgar shook her head and softly mused aloud, “It’s like in all the old fairy tales, the beautiful princess held hostage by the wicked dragon waiting for her knight in shining armor to come and save her. The drones of Castor 5 are the princesses.”

  Morris snickered briefly. “Well, ta princess is a bi’ tattered an’ rough around tha edges but I git wha’ ya mean.”

  Edgar nodded. “Except there’s no white knight. He’s not coming. He doesn’t exist.”

  “But the princess still needs saving,” Warren interjected.

  The mask nodded. “And if there is no white knight to save her from the dragon, what happens to the princess?”

  They exchanged looks among themselves and slowly, they smiled.

  Morris stood up. “Then tha princess picks up tha sword an’ slays tha dragon ’erself.”

  Edgar was the next to stand. “Time to pick up the sword.”

  Warren smiled and joined them. “Not without me, you’re not! I’m done being the victim.”

  Daniel joined them. “And I’m done being a lab rat.”

  Morris nodded with a defiant look in her eyes. “We are NAE lemmings!” she said.

  The Lord Chamberlin nodded and ruffled his shoulders again.“My children are coming soon,” he told them. “What do you want me to tell them about you? Are you friend or foe? Should we fear you, hate you, or befriend you? Should we drive every one of you off the surface of our beloved planet?”

  Edgar sighed heavily. “I do not want it to ever come to that,” she said. “I still believe in hope, in happily ever after endings and that we, as a species, can co-exist in peace with another race.”

  The mask nodded. “Then you want to negotiate a compromise with my people?”

  Edgar nodded.

  “I would very much like that, too,” the Lord Chamberlin said. “But I have more hope of achieving that end with you four than your government. Which is why I’m discussing things with you. I find my present company more worthy of my people’s trust.”

  Morris stepped forward and took hold of the Chamberlin’s long claw like appendage in both of her hands. “An’ we will do our utmost best not ta betray tha’ trust, I promise ya.”

  They sensed immense satisfaction from the creature
before them.

  Chapter 10

  “Held safely in unkindness”

  They were awakened in the wee hours of the morning by Warren screaming.

  Edgar tumbled off the couch and looked about in the dim light, still bleary eyed. The only thing her mind grasped onto was that she was not in her own bed or in her own home. The room hummed and the gas lamps had been turned down but not completely off, so there was a little light to see by.

  She heard Daniel whistle and burble as he flopped out of bed.

  An orange cat streaked past her, hissing its displeasure at the situation.

  It was then she remembered.

  She was in the Chamberlin’s dirigible. They had agreed to stay the night so a few more human furnishings had been brought out for them to sleep upon.

  Whenever there was danger of any kind, Morris would quickly revert to her cat shape for safety. Someone suddenly screaming in the middle of the night qualified as an emergency.

  “Warren! What is it? What’s wrong?” she called, staggering for the nearest gas lamp to turn up the light.

  She knew he heard her but he continued to cry out in agony.

  She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and found him writhing on the floor next to his cot. She turned him over and held his head in her lap. Morris was suddenly by her side, in human form this time, taking his vitals. Daniel peered cautiously over her shoulder.

  “He’s not hurt,” she assured. “But his blood pressure is sky high… from shock, apparently.”

  “It’s the gauge,” Daniel burbled. “He forgot to turn it off. He fell asleep listening. Something got through… something loud and strong.”

  Morris took the boy by the shoulders and shook him hard.

  “What is it, boy?” she demanded. “Tell us what happened!”

  He hiccupped and moaned and his eyes focused on them briefly.

  “They’re dead!” he wailed in emotional pain. “They’re all dead. Dead or trapped. No one can get to them. They’ll die before anyone finds them. The fog’s gotten inside.”

  Morris and Edgar just stared at each other for a moment.

  Daniel simply nodded. “Told you,” he mumbled. “Damn! Sometimes I hate being right!”

  Morris aimed an irritated glance in his direction. “Enough!” she snarled.

  “Who’s dead?” Edgar asked loudly. “Who’s trapped? Tell us!”

  Warren’s hands clawed at his temples and he refused to open his eyes. He shook his head and thrashed more. “The orphanage,” he finally gasped out. “And more. The ground shook and fell to pieces. It swallowed them up. Buried them… alive!”

  “Earthquake,” Morris murmured in horror.

  Castor 5 was a volcanic planet. Earthquakes were a daily occurrence. No one noticed them anymore. They just noticed when they got violent… or quiet.

  There had been no earthquakes for quite some time.

  “Turn off the dial,” Morris told Warren. “Edgar, check the Babbage and see what it says.”

  “No!” Warren refused. “The Babbage won’t tell you. They don’t want anyone to know how bad it is. It’s all over Castor 5. Earthquakes everywhere… big ones… city killers. But they don’t know… the truth.”

  Warren staggered to his feet babbling over and over again. “They don’t know the truth.”

  He shook his head as if to clear it and gazed around at the room they occupied. His steps wobbled like a drunk.

  “What truth?” Edgar said. “Honey, what are you looking for?”

  Warren spun slowly about the room, gazing at the walls that held them safe and secure. His eyes focused on a door. His left arm reached out. “The truth…” he gasped distantly.

  And then his expression grew hateful and his reaching hand curled into a fist.

  “You have done this to us!” he growled.

  And with an enraged roar, he bolted to the door.

  “Warren, no!” Morris cried out, jumping to her feet. “Edgar! Daniel! Masks!”

  Edgar spun, her eyes searching wildly about the room for their gas masks. Daniel found them and tossed three her way. She plucked them out of the air just as Warren flung open the door to the Chamberlin’s private sanctum.

  Edgar and Morris followed, wrestling their way into their gas masks. Daniel looked at the door and hesitated as he tugged on his breathing apparatus.

  They entered a long tunnel. There was almost no light to see by. At the end of the tunnel was a mere pinprick of light. Warren ran directly toward it so Morris and Edgar followed, fumbling with the straps on their breathing apparatus as they ran. Daniel followed them slowly, reluctantly.

  “Warren!” Edgar called after him. “Stop! Wait for us!”

  In Edgar’s hands she held Warren’s gas mask. She was poised to fling it over his head and wrestle it on if that’s what it took when she caught up to him. Heedless of the danger, he kept on running. So they followed him as well as they were able.

  Edgar then noticed something strange. While it was true the light was dim, she could still see they were approaching the end of the tunnel. Yet the small pinprick of light was getting no bigger.

  Then Morris touched her on the arm and Edgar paused to look back. Morris pointed down. Edgar followed the gesture with her eyes.

  Fog was curling about their feet, a dense heavy fog.

  “I’ve never seen it so thick,” Morris told her.

  Daniel stopped and hissed in fear. “I can go no further,” he said. “The fog is caustic to my skin and I don’t have my suit. I can’t let it touch me. I’ll burn.”

  Their eyes turned ahead, to the youngling running carelessly onward into the poisonous fumes.

  “Warren!” they screamed at the same time.

  The shadow of his form had stopped at the end of the tunnel. They could see his shoulders heaving as he breathed. And then they heard him start to cough.

  “You grab him and put him in a headlock. I’ll get the mask on whether he likes it or not!” Edgar directed. She didn’t need to see Morris nod.

  Warren’s form shuddered with the force of his coughing. He staggered to his knees where the fog was thickest.

  “Now!” Edgar shouted and they lunged forward as one, both of them tackling the boy in tandem.

  He twitched in surprise as they landed on top of him and struggled, gasping and wheezing for breath. But the women still managed to force the breathing apparatus over his head and secure the straps.

  Warren suddenly went still. His chest heaved as life-giving oxygen flooded his system.

  “Never do that again!” Edgar scolded him.

  But he wasn’t paying any attention to her. He was staring ahead into the thick fog with a dazed look on his face.

  The women followed his gaze and were dumbstruck by what they saw.

  Before them the fog swirled thick and heavy. A small beam of light shone downward into the center of the room the dimensions of which Edgar still could not make out. Under that light, sliced by tendrils of gray fog, crouched a creature of horrifying proportions.

  It seemed almost like a praying mantis except its arms sprouted from all about its torso, long and spindly. Its hands on each arm had thin, claw-like fingers, its neck could telescope up and down and its head swirled in any direction it chose. But its eyes were what riveted them to the spot. No light shone in those eyes. There was no reflection from a shiny surface of any kind. There were just three pools of utter darkness, blacker than any color they had ever seen before.

  It crouched before them, perched upon a strange machine that it worked through a series of toggle switches.

  From time to time, a strange ropey thing snaked itself through the fog, disappearing and reappearing, curling in upon itself and unfurling like a coil of articulated wire. It took a moment or two for their minds to register the thing was actually its tail.

  “You!” Warren finally managed to gasp out. “You did this! You did all of this!”

  The head swiveled about to face them and the thin neck
telescoped up toward the light.

  Warren suddenly was seized by a fit of twitching. He twisted and jerked like a puppet on a string and then finally stilled.

  “That’s right,” Warren said but it wasn’t his voice. “Your race is so primitive, you still use your mouths to speak. So I will have to borrow his.”

  “What’s going on?” asked Morris in utter confusion.

  “Is what he said true?” Edgar said trying to look at the creature and not her son. “Did you cause the earthquakes killing all those people?”

  The creature’s head tilted to the side and its tail rippled in front of them. They realized it was using its tail to gesture as it spoke, much like humans gesture with their hands.

  “Yes,” it said through Warren’s mouth.

  “But… why?” Morris asked, choking within her mask.

  “Because that is how our children are born, through consecutive shifting of the planet’s crust. It is our…maternal contractions, you might say. Eons ago my people learned how to mechanically manipulate the tremors. Generations have been hatched this way. The planet is preparing for its people to return,” the Chamberlin told them.

  Edgar shook her head. “And for that to happen, you had to kill our people? Our children?”

  The tail shuddered as if laughing. “A lion does not eat grass. As adorable as you find its cubs, there comes a time when in order for the lion children to survive, something else must die.”

  The creature made a strange sound through Warren’s mouth. They realized it was trying to imitate a sigh.

  “You thought me your friend. You were wrong. My first and most important job is to ensure the survival of my species. I befriended you because in doing so, I served my children. And now I betray you because it serves my children.”

  Edgar shook her head in horror as she backed away. “I’ve been an imbecile the entire time,” she whispered to no one but herself.

  “Yes, you have,” the creature answered.

  Then Morris enveloped Edgar in a tight hug. Her green eyes shot daggers at the creature who crouched before them in the mist.“You monster!” she shrieked.