Mantivore Prey

by S. J. Higbee

  “Greetings, sisters,” I called, waiting at the gate. “I’ve come to pay my respects to my mother’s home and the local Node.”

  “Greetings, Your Ladyship,” came back a ragged chorus, as they all bobbed untidy curtseys, huddling together.

  Given that after Osmar’s death, she’d stood up in Court and swore on her life that I’d maliciously murdered him, I could only guess what wicked slurry she’d spouted to these women about my ruthless rise to the post of Overlord.

  “The Node is grieving, Your Ladyship. She doesn’t want to be disturbed,” announced Kaila Player, Mother’s former best friend and chief supporter.

  “For sure. Which is why I’m here, as Overlord Brarian. It’s my honour to serve all Nodes in Arcadia. Especially this one in such a time of crisis.”

  Ermina Harvester rushed to the gate and opened it up, bowing. “Welcome, Your Ladyship. We’re honoured. Cos the Node, it’s really sad.”

  Inclining my head graciously, I moved through the gate, accompanied by Helston and two other guards, as one of the spiderbots skittered around the building, weapons on Standby, further tearing up Mother’s precious turf while scanning for any would-be killers. “My pardon for the guards.”

  Kaila was the only one of Mother’s followers with the current keycode to the Node and it took her four goes to unlock the building. Just as I was getting ready to step in with my override, the door finally slid open. A thick stench rolled from the room out across the yard.

  I stood in the doorway, shock-stalled and appalled. Red alarms strobed across the small console in a shrill chorus and the tanks were cloudy and unresponsive, so different to their usual bubbling vibrancy. While piles of rotting fruit formed pools of stinking liquid across the floor.

  “When was the Node last checked?” It was difficult to keep my voice steady. Thank the stars Vrox isn’t here!

  “We shut her up to give her time to grieve,” announced Kaila, trying not to gag at the terrible smell. “And she is. Look.”

  “I see.” I paused, resisting the impulse to slap some sense into her. “Who has children?”

  A surprising number of arms went up. I’d always assumed that Mother’s notions appealed to sense-vac’d girls and worn-brained oldsters. Hopefully, these women would see reason.

  “When children are ill or grieving, do you lock them in their rooms and leave them alone?”

  Kaila’s face soured and she folded her arms, as Ermina replied, “No. That’s when you need to look after them more than ever.”

  Some clearly agreed with Ermina’s statement, but a number were shaking their heads and scowling.

  “Did Mother Mai ever lock up the Node and leave her alone for days at a time?”

  This time there was no disagreement as everyone muttered that no, Mother Mai never did that.

  “Did the Node ever stink of rotten fruit while Mother Mai was alive?”

  “No!” they chorused, stronger this time.

  “It’s cos the Node is sad!” objected Kaila.

  “Well, those red lights and alarms are warning us that the Node is not just sad, she’s sick. And she’s sick because no one has cared for her.”

  “You’re also a sunblasted fool, Kaila Player,” snapped Idaline Ferry. “I said you should’ve let young Brarian into the Node to sort her out. But nah… you always reckon you know better’n anyone else.”

  It wasn’t fitting for the Overlord to punch the air and leap around the stinking Node while watching Kaila’s influence evaporate before my eyes, so I didn’t. Besides, I was worrying too much about the Node to gloat, especially once the women started clearing away the slimy mess that had once been offerings of fruit. It wasn’t fitting to join in the clean-up either, but I found it hard watching them trying to sweep out the mess with brooms, which only further liquidised the decomposing fruit and spread evil-smelling slime across the whole floor instead of just part of it.

  Finally, unable to stand their limp efforts, I turned to Ermina. “Could you collect a couple of clean bog-boxes from Stores? Tell Onice I sent you – you’ll need to round up a trolley-bot…”

  “I got one you can borrow, Your Ladyship!” Larold Carrier pushed forward, his red curly hair falling across his freckled forehead.

  My half-brother. Does he know? “Thank you, Larold.”

  Once the bog-boxes arrived, Idaline grinned at me. “Should’ve known you’d figure how to handle shitty smells, Yer Ladyship.” She turned to the others, evidently still clueless. “Scatter the sand on the floor. It’ll soak up the slime and the bugs seeded in the soil will nix the smell.”

  While I stood in the shade of the palms Mother planted, they started sprinkling bog-box sand across the stone floor. A floor I knew very well as I’d scrubbed it on my hands and knees at least twice a week since I was nine years old. I took care to keep my expression suitably blank as happy, surprised comments rang around the Node about the way the treated sand soaked up the mess and the stench. I’ll give them their due, with one notable exception, they all rolled up their sleeves and set to the task. While Kaila Player wandered around muttering that the Node still needed to grieve.

  Ermina snapped, “So when Neithen drops dead, we’ll shut you up in yer room with no food, nor water and let you get on with it, shall we, Kaila? See what kind of stinking mess yer in after a week!”

  “I reckon the fact that she put up with your nonsense for so long just goes to show what a kindly-hearted woman our Mother Mai was,” announced Idaline Ferry, stopping from the backbreaking task of shovelling the contaminated sand back into the box-boxes to mop her face.

  There was a chorus of agreement, not just from the women but from the watching crowd, some of whom had also joined in the clean-up. I held my breath, waiting. It didn’t take long before Kaila flung down the broom she’d finally picked up, bursting into noisy sobs. Usually, Mother would put her arms around her, talk softly to her until she calmed down and then praise her for her doing so.

  Such scenes used to make me want to throw things, starting with Kaila. But this time around, there was no Mother Mai to dry her eyes and tell her how special she was, so Kaila went on howling until Idaline slapped her across the face, yelling at her to get a grip.

  Kaila ran out of the garden, wailing that she wanted Mother Mai back… that she wanted to die, too…

  Everyone else got on with sweeping out the soggy sand, while heaping all the blame for the shoddy state of the Node onto Kaila.

  Once the Node floor was finally clean enough to walk on without skidding on vile-smelling slime, I checked the nutrient bins. However they hadn’t been properly sealed shut, so they, too, were a rancid mess. I sent Larold off to the Stores for more supplies, inwardly cursing that during the long wait for the Node to be cleaned, I hadn’t thought to check the stocks. For the poor, starving organi-packs still hadn’t been fed…

  I placed my hands and forehead against the most sluggish, cloudy-looking tank. Oh my lovelies, my precious ones… I’m so sorry you’ve been suffering! We’ll fix you up with more food and in no time flat you’ll be bubbling away. I’ve missed you so very much…

  And for the first time since I’d arrived back in Cnicus, I felt truly at home. This was my Node – the first Node where I’d dived into the ocean of knowledge stored within these amazing tanks. When I finally moved away to MindTickle another poorly looking tank, there was a faint glowing mass in the shape of my outstretched hands where the living data had meshed in an attempt to get close to me.

  “Mother Mai only ever got that effect when she pressed leaves against the tanks,” breathed Idaline, staring at my handprints, which slowly, slowly faded. Far too slowly, to be honest.

  Did she now? Was it just Mother and her love of plants they locked onto? Or do all tanks respond to plants? I’ll have to experiment with other Nodes…

  Larold eventually returned, his hover-trolley laden with several unopened sacks of nutrients. Kestor and Onice arrived just after Larold. Though arrived doesn’t really cove
r it. More like made a grand entrance. Kestor announced his name to the spiderbot in his drawling Uppie accent – one of the very few folks in Cnicus not actively afraid of the metal thing on stilted legs, while I was engrossed in cross-checking the ite number on the nutrient sacks. Nonetheless, I couldn’t miss the muttered curses rippling among the women as he swept through the gate, Onice trailing in his wake.

  “Your Ladyship!” he performed another of his elegant bows that had me wanting to kick his arse.

  “Kestor.” I glanced across to Onice, intending to share an eye-roll at his idiocy. Only her gaze was locked onto Kestor, wide-eyed and soulful. Which had me wanting to kick her, too… “I can’t find a remedial mix of nutrient. Where do you store them—

  “Kestor?” I was speaking to the air.

  He’d marched into the Node, now resounding with his shocked exclamations.

  “Kestor!” Given I couldn’t get sense out of the roacher, I turned to Onice. “I’ve got the ordinary nutrient, here, but we need the remedial mix. Where’s it stored?”

  She bit her lip, avoiding my eyes. “I think there’s only one type.”

  “That can’t be right. When I was here, there was always at least one sack in reserve. Though it was normally stored in the house.” I knew which cupboard it was kept in and although the house was sealed up, I was sure Cupert would agree to letting me get hold of it.

  “Oh no, don’t waste time trying to get hold of the sack that was in the wine cupboard, Your Ladyship,” announced Kestor, who’d finally emerged from the Node.

  Wine cupboard – what wine cupboard? Mai didn’t drink wine!

  “Do you know how much that single sack cost? It was three times the price of the normal mix, so I swapped it out in order to save the village money,” he said, virtuously.

  I tasted bile. “You did what?” Up to this point, I was concerned at the state of a couple of the tanks, but because I knew I could trickle-dose them with the super-feed, as Osmar used to call it, until they were up to strength, I hadn’t been panicking.

  I was now.

  “Can I just add how disgusted I am at the state of the Node. It’s a disgrace! And that’s why it is vital that those unqualified in the care of the Node…” Kestor paused to glare at the women still toiling to clean it up. “… pay attention when those of us who know what we’re doing tell you that shutting it up is not the—”

  “Why didn’t you contact your father and inform him? He’d have sorted out things here fast enough. And as for your stunt in selling off the remedial mix – d’you know that a couple of the tanks are on the brink of dying? The ordinary nutrient isn’t up to the job of fixing them!” I yelled.

  “Well… yes. I can see that from the readings. And very unfortunate it is, too—”

  “Unfortunate? It’s a roaching tragedy! We’ll lose all the data stored in them, reaching back generations. And… they’ll be dead. Gone!”

  “Granted it’s less than an ideal scenario. But we won’t lose functionality. We can import a tank from another Nodery covering the same Codings. Obviously, it’ll take a while to adapt to the local biome, but—”

  I stared at him, searching for any sign of distress. “Import a tank from another Nodery? That happens, does it?”

  He visibly expanded in his role of teaching the know-nothing Overlord the real task of keeping a Node going. “Oh yes. It’s not a commonplace occurrence. Obviously one to be avoided, of course. But two, maybe three times a year, Father is called upon to provide a replacement tank.”

  “What about the trauma of the replacement tank being taken from its family nexus and dumped into a completely different place?” Those poor, poor creatures – yanked from their home without any warning… with no choice…

  “Hm. It is a problem,” Kestor agreed, cheerfully. “There’s been instances where we’ve had to provide several replacement tanks in quick succession as they’ve struggled to thrive…”

  “Struggled to thrive?” My voice swooped. “They died! And all you do is go on repeating the same shoddy process – torturing them. They’ve done nothing wrong – and yet… they’re exiled from everything they know. Into a colder place where the rules are all different with no chance of going back...” Tears scalded my eyes behind my goggles as grief for those lost tanks overwhelmed me.

  Which was when the women started singing one of Mother’s songs. A dragging, sad song full of clashing notes. And I suddenly realised why they were so popular. Mother’s compositions were for the heartbroken.

  Cub is hurting! Vrox is coming…

  A burst of adrenaline stopped my struggle not to cry in mid-sob. “Vrox is coming.” I looked across at Kestor. “If I were you, I’d leave. Right now.”

  Kestor blinked, then nodded jerkily. “I’m sorry. I never meant to upset… Your Ladyship.”

  I waved him away, wanting him gone. I’d need a clear head with Vrox around. Though of course, that isn’t what I got. Suddenly my mental space was full of mantivore thinking.

  Why are you leaking moisture for glowings that haven’t yet died? Have you fed them? Or hunted down the medicine they need? Vrox huffs in exasperation over Cub’s weakness, reminding her that he taught her better…

  His disgruntlement flickered across his scales in grumpy shades of pink and purple as he stomped through the gate and into the garden, though his bad mood was softened by the patter of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ from the admiring crowd, now twice the size of the original gaggle that had initially gathered.

  We definitely need to make more vids, books and tunes available. This lot clearly don’t have enough entertainment…

  However, Vrox’s pleasure didn’t last once he saw the state of the tanks.

  Vrox howls, full of grief and anger…

  Gritting my teeth at the mental barrage, I stirred the nutrient powder into tepid water, still able to recall the amount without having to measure it.

  He croons over them, his scales flickering in a bioluminescent comfort-display of green and blue that strobes around the Node.

  I started feeding the tanks, while several of the women asked if they could ‘leaf-stroke’ the tanks as Mai had encouraged them to.

  You shady with that, Vrox?

  Vrox wonders why Cub is asking. If they can stop the pain of the glowings, then that is their destiny.

  I’m asking cos I’m sick of having to stop you ripping folks to shreds! And you’re starting to sound like my roaching mother. Would it kill you to be nice once in a decade?

  Vrox ignored me, instead busying himself with churring encouragement to a flushed and elated Ermina, whose leaf-stroking efforts had stimulated one of the tanks into bubbling. So I left him to it, while I put in an emergency request for super-feed via the Custody Suite’s console. Then had a chat with Damita, who already had heard about the shoddy situation at the Node.

  “What about running all this by Felina? She’s set to climb the walls with boredom,” she said.

  Damita’s another one that Felina calls ‘Raindrop’. I’ll bet she also gets invites to evenings where she’s fed till she’s fit to burst and treated to funny anecdotes where no one mouthwhacks her, or calls her names… “Yeah. You do that. If she has any ideas, you know where I’ll be,” I said, staring at the wall of tanks in dismay. The others were already looking better. But those two tanks weren’t responding at all. And one had the Codings for all the Keeper recipes against the multitude of pests which attacked our crops.

  Hope that roaching wine choked Kestor. Him and his shoddy economies to fund his Uppie lifestyle!

  My tab chimed. “Yeah.”

  “Raindrop!” Felina’s voice blared around the Node. “You tried dosing your tanks with mushmouth?”

  I glanced around, hoping Mai’s followers weren’t stenched because I was talking to her supposed murderer. “No. Why would I do that?”

  “Stay shady, Felina!” hollered Idaline, followed by other yelled greetings, which she happily replied to.

  So not even Mai’s
followers believe she offed Mother. “Felina? Why would I be dumping mushmouth into the Node tanks?”

  “Osmar regularly gave it to them. Reckoned it was chemically a perfect fit. Only a brandy measure in each, mind.”

  So I sent a message to Eswin Washer, who ran the village laundry and made the lethally strong village brew, to immediately bring a jug of mushmouth to the Nodery. Helston suggested we send one of the guards to ensure Eswin gave it the highest priority.

  Meantime, Ajene Stitcher found me a brandy measure and in no time flat, Eswin mooched into view, wearing his habitual scowl. Only time I’d seen him smile was when he looked at Mother and then he wasn’t so much smiling as drooling.

  He bobbed jerkily, coming dangerously close to pouring the mushmouth down his overalls. “Your Ladyship…” He blinked furiously as he straightened up. “Everyone’ll think the sun’s got to me, but you really have the look of your mama…”

  I was shocked to see he was on the brink of breaking down.

  “My repentances… I know you and she – you weren’t on the shiniest terms. But she really wanted to fix that. Was gonna travel to Gloriosa and s’prise you. Cos she an’ me… we were planning to get wed.” He attempted a ghastly smile. “So, I know a bit ʼbout how you’re feeling right now, Your Ladyship. They threw away the pattern when they made Mai. Though diving into a jug of mushmouth mightn’t be the way to go.”

  I tried to look suitably sad, as the women around me fervently agreed. “Thank you for your kind words of comfort, Mr Washer—”

  “Eswin, please, Your Ladyship. Given that I might’ve been your step-daddy if things…” His face froze while he struggled not to cry.

  I swallowed at the thought of this lanky, red-nosed man with sad eyes being Mother’s husband. Is this the mushmouth talking, or was she seriously considering marrying him?

  “Thank you… Eswin,” I inclined my head as taught by my decorum tutor, while taking the mushmouth from him.

  The Node now was crammed with Mai’s followers and given that many of them had been slogging alongside me and Vrox to revive the tanks, I hadn’t the heart to evict them. Besides, I need their goodwill. I’m not well enough established in Gloriosa, or anywhere else right now, to be able to make an enemy of Mother’s followers.