Diffusion Box Set

by Stan C. Smith

Bobby lunged. “Addison, don’t!”

  But Addison had already grasped Miranda’s face. His long fingers wiped at her eyes, forcing the stuff from his pouch between her lids. Then he pulled back and glared at her.

  Miranda fell to her knees, her hands pressed to her face.

  Quentin shoved Addison away from her. “What have you done?”

  For a moment Addison’s brows furrowed in confusion. But then his features hardened again. “You want to take it!”

  “We don’t want to take anything,” Quentin said.

  Again Addison’s face softened. He gazed at his own hands for a moment. Suddenly he turned and sprinted away.

  Miranda seemed shaken from the attack but physically unhurt. Quentin examined her eyes. They were red and watering.

  She began crying. “What’s happening to me?”

  “Nothing is going to happen to you,” Ashley said. But her voice betrayed her fear.

  “I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

  Everyone assured her she’d be fine. But Quentin sensed they were wrong. Addison had clearly meant Miranda harm. Samuel had to be right—Addison’s brain had been damaged in the plane crash.

  Miranda sobbed. “Nothing can hurt me now, right? They fixed me after a plane crash and a broken leg.” Her words were beginning to slur. “Ashley! I can’t see.” Miranda held out a hand and Ashley took it.

  “I’m here, Miranda,” Ashley said. “You’ll be okay.”

  “I’m afraid, Ash. I see stars. Why do I see the stars, Ash?”

  Quentin’s eyes were drawn to Miranda’s hand, gripping Ashley’s. The tips of her fingers were turning brown, and they stood out against Ashley’s pale skin. Quentin ran in the direction that his son had disappeared. “Addison, come back! You can stop this!”

  He paused and listened. The forest was silent except for the stricken sobs of his wife and students as they watched Miranda die.

  Miranda’s body turned to soil before Bobby’s eyes. It started with her fingers and toes. They turned brown, and the tips began to fall away. And then her eyes became dirt and crumbled into her skull. The dark sockets seemed to stare at Bobby, and he had to turn away. He leaned against the Lamotelokhai tree, trying to flush the image from his mind. But even without his flawless memory, Miranda’s decomposing face would have haunted him for the rest of his life. As the others were gathered around Miranda’s remains, Bobby sat to the side, watching the trees for signs of Addison’s return.

  Before long Samuel appeared. His face was pale, and he appeared old and tired. Standing over Miranda’s body, he spoke to Mr. Darnell.

  “The loss of another of your pupils is regrettable. But the creature has also murdered many of the indigenes. You are aware that I have lived among these people for the majority of my days. Their murder is a devastation beyond reckoning—a loss not only to me but quite possibly to the welfare of all beings of this earth.”

  Mr. Darnell stayed quiet and stared at Miranda’s remains.

  Samuel continued. “You must not encumber your need to do what must be done by reasoning that the creature is your son. He no longer is, and he must not continue this amok.”

  “What are you saying?” Mrs. Darnell said.

  Mr. Darnell held up his hand. “He’s right. Addison couldn’t have done this. We’ve already lost him.” His voice was low and uneven, like he had snapped from too much grief.

  Samuel went on. “Addison has employed the powers of the Lamotelokhai to take the lives of my indigene hosts, and of your pupil.” Samuel then pointed at Bobby. “The boy possesses an aptitude for relating with the Lamotelokhai, as if he were born to accomplish that very task. He has progressed beyond my own achievements. If we are to employ the substance to overcome Addison, then Bobby may be the only practicable hope.”

  “Overcome him?” Mrs. Darnell said.

  Mr. Darnell’s face showed that he already knew what Samuel meant. “Bobby’s only fourteen. I can’t ask him to do that. If it’s anyone’s responsibility, it’s mine.”

  Bobby recalled the vision Mbaiso had shown him, the brutal killing of Addison, and then him holding the bloody club. Mbaiso had tried to tell him something important. But now it would take more than clubs to kill Addison. Bobby thought of Miranda’s eyes, crumbling into her skull as she died. “I’ll do it,” he said.

  The others turned to him.

  Bobby swallowed hard. “I understand what has to be done, and I’ll do it.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Bobby counted only eight Papuan villagers in the tree house. Samuel had said the Lamotelokhai hut was where they would all come when something bad happened. How many others had Addison killed?

  Sinanie was one of the eight remaining villagers. Also among them were three women, the first ones Bobby had seen. Their faces looked similar to the men’s, but they had breasts that weren’t covered up. Down below they each wore a clump of dried grass over their privates, hanging from a cord around the waist. There were no children present.

  The villagers should have been enraged. Instead they were quiet, staying together on one side of the hut, watching the Americans. Bobby had asked Samuel about this, and was told that the villagers knew Bobby could talk to the Lamotelokhai, and because of that they believed their world was going to end anyway. They now wanted to stay with Bobby to protect him in case Addison should return. It seemed as if everything was suddenly about Bobby.

  It was hard concentrating with so many people in the hut, but still Bobby made progress. For whatever reason, the Lamotelokhai was programmed with the ultimate version of Kembalimo. Bobby had passed all the early levels and was now arranging symbols into groups representing ideas and simple sentences. Samuel hovered over him for a while, asking questions. But then he must have realized this was only slowing things down because he backed off.

  As the morning stretched into afternoon, Samuel and a guy named Vututu left to get food and water. Vututu was taller than the others, even taller than Samuel, and he looked like he’d be a fierce fighter. The women seemed unwilling to let him leave the safety of the hut, and Bobby figured he must be married to one or more of them. Vututu took two spears, but Samuel took no weapons. As they left through one of the connected tunnels, the four women cried out—“Yeeee...” It was the same cry Bobby had heard in the middle of the night.

  Eventually Carlos came over and asked questions about the Lamotelokhai. Did it really come from another planet? Why did it come here? Was it alive? Bobby didn’t have answers, so he tried telling Carlos about his progress with it.

  Carlos twisted his face. “I don’t play Kembalimo, so I don’t get it.” He nodded toward the Papuans. “Why not just ask them to kill Addison? Instead of going to all this trouble?”

  Bobby rubbed the scar on his chest and looked at the Papuans. Sinanie’s eyes met his and stared with no expression. Sinanie seemed smaller now, and older. Bobby stepped closer to the villagers and tried speaking to them. “Gu mbakha-to-fosu le-bo? Mba-mbam?” He wasn’t sure what the words meant; he just pulled them from his memory. He repeated the same words, and then added more: “Anggufa diabo?”

  At first they just stared at him, but then Sinanie spoke. “Khofé mbakha mo-mba-té?”36

  Bobby waited to see if a vision appeared in his mind but nothing happened. He shook his head. And then an idea came to him. These people could talk to Mbaiso, and now he could too. “Sinanie,” Bobby said. The Papuan looked at him. Bobby made the sign for Mbaiso’s name.

  Sinanie’s eyes widened. “Mbakha-leké mbolop?”34

  Bobby nodded. “Mbolop.” He then signed the names of the other two tree kangaroos.

  Sinanie signed quickly and then waited. A vision appeared in Bobby’s mind of a tree kangaroo signing to a person. He realized the person was himself. “Yes, I talk to the mbolop.” Bobby sensed someone behind him, and he turned to see Mr. and Mrs. Darnell there. “I can speak tree kangaroo.” They seemed confused, so he said, “I’ll tell you about it later.”

  Bobby
turned back to the Papuans. Mbaiso had shown him a sign for Addison, so he used it. Then he used Mbaiso’s signs to describe Addison getting pulverized by men with clubs, and then himself holding a club. The villagers were now watching him closely. Bobby motioned once more: the sign for no. He shook his head. “I don’t want to kill anyone.”

  Sinanie eyed him for a moment and then started signing.

  In his mind, Bobby saw villagers. They talked and walked together. Some of them carried things, like water and animals they had killed. And there were women there, talking and smiling. The villagers looked up. Something fell from the sky into the trees. Bobby sensed that it was supposed to be an airplane, although it didn’t look much like one. A person walked from where the object fell. And there were others. They looked different from the villagers. Their movements were stiff and clumsy, and they had big heads. Bobby realized this must be how Sinanie saw them. As the people from the plane became clear, one of them stood out. It was Addison, but not Addison his friend. It was the dead, scary Addison—Addison the killer.

  Suddenly the vision changed. The sky came crashing to earth, like ropes that held it up had finally broken. Villagers, trees, and chunks of earth began drifting upward as if gravity no longer existed, until the last remaining bits fell away into nothing. The blue sky below evaporated. And then there was only darkness and stars.

  The vision dissolved. Sinanie’s hands now hung at his sides, and he said, “Ya nokhu wola-maman-é. Nokhu solditai imoné khomilo.”41

  “So, what did he say?” Carlos asked.

  Bobby turned to the others around him. “The world turned upside down, I think. Because we came here.” It was the best description he could come up with.

  “That’s what Samuel told me,” Mr. Darnell said. “They’re convinced their world is eventually going to end, and that they should allow it to happen.”

  “So they’re just going to let Addison kill them?” Carlos said.

  “I don’t know,” Mr. Darnell said. “But we’re not letting that happen.”

  Bobby turned back to the Papuans. He started to sign that he needed Sinanie’s help, but then he stopped. He sensed a change. The air became still, as if all breathing had stopped. He spun around. A dark figure entered from one of the tunnels. It was Addison, his muscled figure looming menacingly in the hut.

  They all stared, speechless. Addison had changed even more. The leather pouch that had covered his privates was gone, and he wore a crudely fashioned penis gourd. His skin was darker, or maybe dirtier. His arms seemed even longer, and his hands grabbed the floor as he bent over like an animal and went straight for the Lamotelokhai. Bobby felt an urge to turn and run. Addison put a hand on the Lamotelokhai. With his other hand he shifted invisible objects in the air.

  Addison was talking to the Lamotelokhai, learning, gaining strength, maybe even instructing it to kill them. Someone had to stop him. Bobby stepped forward. “Addison, we need to talk.”

  Quentin stared at the creature. It was not Addison, yet it was. His son had become a horrifying, murdering monster. And now the only way to stop him was to kill him. How could a father do such a thing? Quentin shut his eyes and remembered Addison as he had been: pointing wide-eyed at a birthday cake in the shape of a bear; screaming with delight at catching his first fish. That was the real Addison. But when Quentin opened his eyes, the boy was replaced by something dreadful. The face was still mostly Addison’s, but it held no innocence. Instead it seethed with hatred, or perhaps insanity. Insanity was easier to accept.

  Addison was dead. Quentin would do what he had to do. This thing had murdered innocent villagers, and then Miranda. It intended to kill them all. Addison was dead.

  Bobby was the first to act. “Addison, we need to talk.”

  Addison took no notice as Bobby approached him. One of his hands rested on the substance and the other seemed to be moving invisible objects in the air.

  “Addison,” Bobby said.

  Addison shot a glance at Bobby and curled his lip, like a dog defending its food.

  Quentin started to speak, but Bobby held up a hand to stop him.

  “I can help you, Addison. I’ve played Kembalimo, too, for even longer than you have. It’ll be better if we do it together.”

  Addison seemed to consider this. Then he turned back to the substance. “Too late. I don’t need help.” His hand continued its peculiar movements.

  The hut became unnervingly silent. The Papuan women slipped into one of the tunnels, leaving only four men standing with their spears held ready.

  “There’s a better way to do that,” Bobby said. “A faster way.”

  Addison stopped. He glared at Bobby. Whatever Bobby was trying to accomplish, Quentin thought it was too dangerous. Addison could turn on him as quickly as he had on Miranda. Quentin moved to intervene, but Bobby motioned him away again.

  “There’s a better way,” Bobby said. “I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out.”

  “What way?” Addison demanded.

  Bobby stepped even closer, now within Addison’s reach. “The tree kangaroos. They can help us talk to it.”

  Addison’s hand dropped to his side, hanging to his knee. “Mbolop?”

  “Yes. The mbolop taught me their language. And they’re connected to the Lamotelokhai somehow.” Bobby touched the Lamotelokhai, and Addison struck his hand away. Bobby clutched his hand but didn’t back off. “It’s true! Mbaiso is made out of this same stuff.” He pointed, this time without touching. “You can see for yourself. Just go find one of the tree kangaroos. They can show you.”

  Addison flung himself onto Bobby in an explosive blur, striking his face and knocking him to the floor. Again the violence caught Quentin off guard. He should have seen it coming, but he couldn’t let go of the boy Addison once was.

  “Yu khokhukh-telo-dakhu dialun,” Addison growled as he pressed Bobby against the floor. “Where is the mbolop?”42

  Bobby struggled to free himself. “I don’t know! You have to go find them.”

  Quentin rushed forward and shoved Addison off of Bobby. Addison attempted to rise, but suddenly the Papuan men were upon him, forcing him back with the ends of their spears. Addison thrashed at the spear shafts, but the tips penetrated his flesh and pinned him to the wall.

  Bobby crawled to a corner of the hut. His face throbbed and his mouth was bleeding. The Papuans held Addison against the wall while Mr. Darnell tried to calm him down, but it wasn’t working. Addison thrashed and growled.

  Bobby made his way back to the tree trunk at the center of the hut. This might be his only chance to do what he knew must be done. He laid his hands on the substance, and the symbols appeared in his mind. But where to begin? He thought of the questions Carlos had asked him. ‘Where did it come from?’ ‘Was it alive?’ Bobby had been so busy making the rules of his lingo that he hadn’t considered that he might be ready to actually talk to it. He shoved the symbols to move them into piles. He stopped. No. Talk to it. Tell it what you need.

  He moved the symbols, forming a simple sentence: “I am Bobby.” And then a question: “Do you understand me?” Bobby stopped and waited. The struggle with Addison behind him was making it hard to think. And then the symbols moved without his help. They formed a group before his eyes. Bobby stared at the message.

  It said, “Yes.”

  Quentin and Lindsey tried reasoning with Addison. They told him they loved him in spite of everything he had done. Addison didn’t seem to hear any of it. The four spears dug into his body.

  If the villagers ran Addison through now, perhaps they could kill him and be done with it. When Quentin looked at them, the one called Sinanie nodded toward Bobby, who was now standing with his hand on the Lamotelokhai. They were waiting for Bobby to do something.

  Quentin turned back to his son. “Addison, do you understand that they are going to kill you? Listen to me. There has to be another way!”

  Addison’s eyes showed no recognition, or sorrow—only anger. “It’s mi
ne,” he hissed. Still staring at Quentin, he grasped one of the spear shafts and pulled hard, forcing it through his own body and the wall of the hut, and pulling the villager who held it closer to him. There was a moment of stunned silence. The Papuan holding the spear was now within Addison’s reach. With astonishing speed, Addison grabbed the man and pulled him closer, biting him viciously on the face. The other Papuans loosened their grips to help the man.

  That was all it took. With an explosion of ferocity and swinging fists, Addison was free and the men were pushed back with their own spears. One of the spears still hung from Addison’s body and he yanked it out with one hand. Blood flowed from his abdomen and ran down his legs. His chest heaved with the effort of breathing, and for a moment the gurgling sound of this was all Quentin heard. Addison’s shoulders then slumped and he coughed, spurting blood onto the Papuans’ faces as they watched. He let the spear fall to the floor.

  The hatred was gone from Addison’s eyes and he looked almost human again. He approached Bobby, shoved him out of the way, and plunged his hands into the Lamotelokhai. He tried pulling loose a large mass, but the stuff seemed to hold tight. As he pulled at it the Papuans grabbed their spears and moved in to attack. But the stuff came loose and Addison turned to face them. They stopped.

  “I’ll kill all of you,” he said. He then backed away and stumbled into one of the adjoining tunnels.

  Bobby watched Addison leave the hut. Addison’s wounds would not be fatal, and he would come back. Bobby was sure of that. Bobby would have to be ready for him, so he returned to the Lamotelokhai. The stuff had smoothed itself out where Addison had removed the chunk, and it looked the same as before.

  The Lamotelokhai had said, “Yes.” A lump of clay stuck to a tree in the middle of nowhere actually understood him. Bobby arranged symbols to ask another question: “Did you come from space?” He had a hard time with space. It was more like, away from the earth.