Fortune's Folly (Outer Bounds Book 2)

by Sara King

  Indeed, the cat began to pace a slow circle around her, striped fur looking dirty and matted, no two hairs going the same direction. More of its friends were pouring out of the woodwork, surrounding her, but keeping a wary distance.

  “Now would be a really good time to transport half of them somewhere else,” Tatiana babbled, as sixteen enormous black bodies joined the first. Some stopped and sat, green eyes fixed on her with unmistakable intelligence, but some continued to circle, including the striped gray tabby. Each of them were boob-height at the shoulder, their heads the size of her chest.

  They could, Tatiana realized, quite possibly swallow her whole. “And by half, I mean half of their bodies, not half of their number.”

  We are not in the habit of needlessly killing intelligent creatures, Encephalon told her. We will simply wait for them to leave.

  Tatiana swallowed, hard. “I don’t think they’re gonna leave.” Indeed, they were surrounding her, hissing and growling like she’d touched their Holy Grail.

  They are not making a nuisance of themselves, Encephalon said. Besides, they came with the one who put the sword there. They have been guarding it ever since, so, in essence, it is quite likely they consider the sword theirs.

  Suddenly, things slammed into place for Tatiana. The Triton Wars ended a hundred and forty-four years ago. Guy shows up a hundred and forty-ish years ago with an army of ganshi and a tovlar sword. In all of history, only the Tritons and the AlphaGens ever used tovlar swords. Add that to the fact that she’d heard the Whitecliff brothers rant that Fortune had reputedly been given to the AlphaGen champions of the Triton Wars, back when the Core was celebrating the end to the war, but the Coalition had conveniently ‘forgotten’ that when Yolk was discovered.

  Ooohhh shit.

  “Uhhhmm.” Tatiana swallowed, hard, goosebumps prickling every surface of her skin. She made a nervous sound as she slowly spun to face the gray striped jaggle, which was closest to her, and still circling. “Hello, kitties. Nice kitties.”

  I want to eat her. The gray-black jaggle’s thought came with a nice visual image of Tatiana’s head getting ripped off and blood spraying everywhere.

  Tatiana swallowed. “Um. You can’t eat me. See?” She held up the picture. “Your owner was trying to give me back my sword.”

  The jaggle stopped and cocked its head at her at the word ‘owner’. I wonder if we do enough damage to the little shit’s tiny brain fast enough if the damned ship can regenerate her in time to save her. The thought came in a blast of images and feelings, not really a sentence at all, but a series of pictures.

  Then a horrible thought crossed Tatiana’s mind. What if the picture hadn’t been left there to tell the nice kitties that she was supposed to take the sword, but that they were supposed to kill her for trying? She swallowed.

  Perhaps you could speak to them for Us, Encephalon said. Ask them how the one accompanying them got an archon’s seal. Their communication is too…basic…for Us to understand.

  Meaning the kitties were still using pictographs and rock-art, whereas Encephalon had progressed to Shakespeare and Fi Fi Nabbus.

  Tatiana licked her lips. “Um. The ship would like to know how your AlphaGen master got an archon’s seal.”

  The gray cat’s purple eyes narrowed. If she uses the word master again, I think I’m going to tear out her spine first, then lick the flesh from her bones. Again, in gory, picturesque detail.

  Tatiana swallowed. “Okay. Gotcha.” She looked around at the sixteen other ganshi, realizing she was quite clearly in some sort of standoff, and the only thing keeping the monstrous, genetically-engineered felines from attacking her was the fact that she had a formerly planet-sized ship backing her.

  …one that was going to expire in a few days.

  “Okay, how about you just teleport me out of here?” she asked Encephalon.

  We’d like to conserve as many resources as possible, the ship replied. And We’re curious about the archon’s seal. We’ve tried to ask in the past, but they are either incapable of responding or don’t want Us to know.

  Judging by the total intelligence staring back at her in challenge from the gray jaggle’s purple eyes, Tatiana guessed it was the latter. She decided to bluff.

  “So, uh, the ship is pretty pissed off that you stole its beacon,” she said, “and it’s about to transport half of all of you to other sides of the planet if you don’t tell it what it wants to know. And when I say half, I mean the back half.”

  Immediately, the ruffled gray fur stood straight up and the jaggle hissed.

  It appears they understood you, the ship said. Though We are not as upset as you portrayed. An archon’s seal can only be bestowed and sealed by an archon or the original recipient of the seal, so it suggested to Us that there were other hives out there somewhere. We were actually quite pleased with his arrival, not as unhappy as you suggest.

  It’s called a bluff, Tatiana said.

  A what? the ship asked, clearly having no idea what that was.

  Never mind. Out loud, Tatiana jabbed the tip of the sword into the floor of the ship, where it delightfully sank several inches into solid metal before it stopped. “Now,” Tatiana said, striding toward the big, striped kitty with total confidence, knowing Encephalon had her back, “The ship’s been letting you live here out of the goodness of its heart, but its patience just ran out. You have something that does not belong to you, and unless you start answering some questions, right now, it’s going to start with those cute little babies of yours, back near the entrance.”

  We would never start with their babies, Encephalon said, sounding horrified.

  Trust me, Tatiana said. I’ll get to the bottom of this. She strode right up to the biggest striped cat and looked it in the eyes, daring it to claw at her. “So.” She walked casually past it and started doing a round-robin, stopping and looking at each and every jaggle in the room, meeting their furious green eyes. “Anyone wanna fess up?” She cocked her head as if listening, then gave the cruelest grin she could manage. “He says he’ll take their feet first.”

  The barrage of mental blood and gore that hit her mind after that almost knocked her over. The ganshi, it seemed, did not take kindly to threats, and all seventeen of them were in various stages of thinking how much they’d like to rip her apart.

  Tatiana chuckled. “All right. I’ll tell him you’re being unresponsive.” She turned to face the ‘throne’ where she’d found the dragonfly sword. “Encephalon, they say—”

  A striped gray paw knocked her to the ground and flipped her onto her back, then held her pinned, as a gigantic striped head lowered itself to fill her vision, purple eyes narrowed, translucent fangs elongating in promise.

  An image of a flying bird hieroglyph filled her mind, followed by the unmistakable image of Daytona Dae and a short, nondescript man with a silver walking stick each receiving a small token from a gigantic insect. That was quickly followed with an image of the insect, the archaeologist, the short man, and two ganshi—one of which had the same patterning of the one holding her down—fighting off the cyborg masses of what could only be Tritons on some tiny outpost in deep space. That image was followed by one of a kitten squirming as a single hair was plucked from its striped gray butt, preceding a followup of Tatiana’s entrails spread in a fine paste across the room.

  “Um,” Tatiana said, with a nervous giggle. “She says the seal was given to Daytona Dae and a short troll-like dude by a gigantic insect way out in the middle of nowhere-space as a reward for helping the insect fight off Tritons.”

  That is an archon, you fool.

  Tatiana blinked. It had been the cat to say it, quite clearly enunciating each word in her mind, and it looked pissed. Translate correctly, it snapped. Tatiana got a cold chill, realizing that it had been ‘mind-faking,’ so as not to fully show its mental hand.

  “She says it was an archon that gave it to them,” Tatiana said.

  We heard her. The ship sounded almost…irritated. And
Tatiana could see why. Outwitted by a cat for a hundred and forty years. That had to burn. Is the archon still alive? the ship nonetheless demanded, a hint of desperation to its tone.

  Tatiana waited, expecting Kitty to reply, but Kitty continued to snarl at her, fangs drawn, like she wanted to bite off her face.

  We don’t think it understands the nuances of Aashaanti speech, the ship noted. Only the main gist. And We still have trouble translating its crude gibberish.

  I can understand it just fine, Tatiana said. Think you can transport me out from underneath this thing? I think it’s starting to crack ribs.

  You understand it because it shares your common primitive ancestry. And no. You provoked it, and We are saving resources.

  Tatiana frowned at the idea that the aliens thought she—a top-of-the-line cyborg—and the cat—a badass bioengineered warrior—were primitive.

  Kitty crushed her further. What are you two talking about? it demanded.

  “The ship wants to know if the archon is still alive,” Tatiana gasped.

  The archon died with the rest, when the Tritons sabotaged their beacon, Kitty said.

  Oh, Encephalon said. That’s…disappointing. Its regret was overwhelming. How long ago?

  Over two hundred years, Kitty said, when Tatiana translated. And my name is Sekhmet, not ‘Kitty.’ Use it or I introduce your ribs to your spine.

  Of course. Because why wouldn’t a bloodthirsty feline killing machine be named after the ancient Egyptian cat-goddess of war and destruction? Tatiana snorted. Because Encephalon was backing her, and because she had a big mouth—and, some said, a death wish—Tatiana said, “Oh, I’m sorry, Fluffy, did I hurt your feelings?”

  The big cat’s amethyst eyes were just starting to narrow when an infinitely younger mental voice interrupted with, Mom?

  Immediately, Kitty jerked around to glare at the cuddly ball of fluff padding from the corridor the others had come out of, cocking its teensy striped gray head in cute curiosity. It blinked its adorably huge eyes at Tatiana, its cute little nose wrinkled in delightful innocence. Is that the cyborg you were gonna eviscerate and spread her steaming entrails across the Tear to feed the tadflies?

  Tatiana felt herself frown.

  Go back, Keeton! the mother snapped. We will come for you when we’re done with the mouthy little twit.

  Instead of obeying, the tiny kitten wandered closer and sniffed at Tatiana. This one smells funny. It batted at her face with an abnormally huge paw. What is that thing in its head, Mom?

  Darkstone, take him back to the den. I’ll deal with him later. The big momma fluffball turned back to scowl at Tatiana.

  But Mom— In the background, the baby cat howled, struggling in vain to get away from the adult that snagged him by the scruff of the neck. She could still hear him yowling in the distance, almost a minute later, after they carried him away.

  Encephalon seemed to be monitoring the situation intently. What are they saying, archon?

  “They’re saying,” Tatiana said, looking up at the cat that held her pinned, “They’re going to let me go now, or little Keeton with his scruffy ear and broken tail and all of his cuddly little kitten buddies are gonna go missing.” She gave a smirk. “Or, at least, half of them will.”

  Momma Kitty snarled something undecipherable, but she backed off almost immediately.

  “And now,” Tatiana said, getting to her feet and dusting herself off, “you should probably go before the ship gets any more upset. It would be such a shame to lose half your kittens.” She turned and walked over to the sword.

  Momma Kitty was still standing where she’d left her, scowling at Tatiana as if she were a soon-to-be-dead mouse.

  Tatiana snickered and made a dismissive gesture. “Shoo, Kitty.”

  The jaggle didn’t shoo. Instead, Kitty started padding toward her, her purple eyes intense with smug, violent purpose. We are aware the ship is dying. Its processes are already beginning to show high levels of flux, so it should only be days, now, Princess. Kitty took three steps closer, until she was looking Tatiana in the eye. Sooner or later, the ship won’t be here to protect you, and we dare you to try to leave early. In fact, we’d enjoy it. Then, in an unpleasant barrage of mentally blood-soaked pictures and impressions, Kitty showed Tatiana exactly what was going to happen to her the moment she tried to leave the ship, or the ship expired. Then the striped gray jaggle spun and strutted off, barking orders at the others to follow and ‘leave the cyborg to her tomb.’

  “Thanks for the sword!” Tatiana taunted after them. She got a hiss in return.

  Chuckling, Tatiana yanked the tovlar blade out of the floor and hefted it, calculating how many jaggles she could cut in half with it before her arm got tired.

  Judging by earlier attempts to explore Our corridors by cyborgs, We would say that the likelier end is that the arm gets ripped off, not tired, and Our further guess is zero, because they are faster and stronger than you.

  “That’s ridiculous.” Tatiana lowered the sword tip to the floor again, already feeling the strain of holding it up. “So, uh, think you could transport me and Miles out of here?” That would throw those dumb kitties for a loop.

  We need to talk about the Phage, Encephalon said. It killed Our entire civilization in the course of ten molt-cycles—

  Tatiana sighed deeply and crawled up to sit on the ‘throne.’ “The Phage is dead, just like all the Aashaanti. Believe me. It’s not an issue anymore. How about we talk about invisibility, instead? Those robots outside—that’s some sweet tech. Is it holographic or what? And think I could put that on an eighty ton machine?”

  There was a very long pause, then the ship said, Are all members of your species as incredibly short-sighted as you?

  “Short-sighted?” Tatiana snorted. “We’re talking full-blown cloaking devices. Do you know what a game-changer that would be?”

  Almost reluctantly, the ship said, Your civilization doesn’t have simple light relocation technologies? As if Encephalon had suddenly realized it was talking to a nose-picking Stone Age spear-chucker.

  Tatiana grinned and leaned forward on one knee. “Not yet.”

  Tatiana’s first day on the alien ship passed with her discussing invisibility, alien shredder machines, jump technology, and anything else she found interesting. When the ship several times tried to turn the conversation back to the boring and very dead Phage, she immediately cut it off with more talk about alien technology. Tovlar, for instance, had been widely used in the core structures of alien ships, especially heartships, which is where the Tritons apparently got it, and the AlphaGens after that.

  Further, Aashaanti ships were alive. Like a gigantic, sentient metal organism, the ship moved, breathed, and pumped its own lifebloods and nutrient solutions around its internal structures like the circulatory system in a human body. The ship took her to see one such pumping station, where massive amounts of sapphire gel moved through tubes larger than her body. The metal required to build a hiveship, Encephalon told her, was unique to the Aashaanti home planet, though the material could be carefully reproduced with the proper ingredients and growth medium.

  That was all well and good, but what Tatiana really wanted to know about were the guns.

  At first, the ship had denied their existence, saying that no right-minded Kelthari or Gobragi fighter would ever challenge an Aashaanti hive. The archons alone could kill everyone aboard or simply short-circuit their primitive electricity-based technologies, depending on their mood.

  With prodding, however, Tatiana managed to get him to produce the goods. Encephalon reluctantly took her to a warehouse the size of a small city filled to the brim with alien weaponry.

  We were going to use this against the Phage, Encephalon told her, as she stood in the doorway, soaking it all in in awe. We considered actual combat to be a last resort—our last physical skirmishes had been over a thousand egg cycles before, hive against hive, and We were not proud of that history. With the Phage, however, We were forc
ed to embrace our violent and primitive past.

  Again with the Phage. Beginning to get a little irritated with the ship’s persistence, Tatiana strode into the chamber and picked up the first thing she saw—an utterly badass-looking weapon that she could totally envision blowing away bad guys from beneath Milar’s rippling, dragony pecs.

  She grinned as she peered down the barrel, totally able to see that sculpted, sweat-glistening chest tense as he Ramboed his way through a herd of running jaggles.

  Unfortunately, the gun was about twice as heavy as Tatiana was willing to pick up for any sustained period of time. She lowered it back to the floor with a thunk. “What’s this one do?” she asked, gesturing at the gun.

  The ship was silent a moment, then said, Before We give you any further information on Our civilization’s weaponry or military technologies, We think it would be in both of Our best interest to talk about the Phage. The way the ship said it, it almost sounded like it wanted to trade…

  Tatiana groaned and rolled her eyes. “Fiiiiiine. What about it?”

  The ship immediately began pouring out its life story, about how the Phage came from an alternate dimension, how it started to infect people and control them, how it spread faster than any disease they’d ever seen, how they didn’t realize it was acting intelligently until it was too late, yada yada yada…

  Tatiana yawned and waited for the lecture to be over, wandering around the massive armory as she listened, continuously checking her mental clock as the minutes droned on into hours, here and there giggling delightedly when she found a cool new blade or what was obviously a badass alien mech suit.

  So, Encephalon finished, as you can see, the Phage is still alive, and must be sent back to its home dimension or eradicated completely.

  “Uh-huh,” Tatiana said. “Hey!” She picked up a cute little pistol made from what appeared to be green glass. “What’s this one do?”

  The ship seemed to watch her in silence for several minutes before it said, You didn’t hear anything We just said, did you?

  “I told you,” Tatiana said, “the Phage is dead. This is a lot more useful to me.” She held up the gun.