by S. L. Viehl
“That is very stirring,” I told Swap.
“It is the opening sonnet from ‘The Prisoner of Chillon’ by Lord Byron,” Swap said. “I think it an apt tribute to those who must endure the trials visited upon them without their permission. And Mercy prefers poems that rhyme.”
“Poems that don’t rhyme sound like just a bunch of words.” Mercy set the bag she carried in front of him. “Here’s what’s left of Lily. I’m sorry I have to involve you in this, but until things calm down, she’ll be safer here.”
Part of Swap oozed over the bag, and when he slid back, it had vanished.
“Such matters must be handled with delicacy,” the worm said. “You can trust me to remain discreet. “
“Swap, do you know who is responsible for killing and skinning the colonists?” Reever asked.
“Come on, you know Davidov’s Hsktskt is doing it,” Mercy said. “Why else would he send her down here?”
“I cannot agree, Mercy. Nor can I put a name to the killer, Duncan. It seems to covet the appearance of others. Oh, dear, I forgot something.” Part of Swap moved around us and elongated, taking something wrapped in plas from one of the piles. “This fell from your suit in the crater, Doctor. I did not retrieve it until I could first wrap it in something to protect its surface. My mucus layer is harmless, but it does sometimes leave stains on certain objects. “
The sticky plas had been sealed around the image of Marel I had taken from our cabin. That the worm would go to so much trouble to retrieve and preserve it touched me. “I thank you.”
“Your offspring is like the heart of a rose,” Swap said. “Or the snow, everywhere, carefully descending—e. e. cummings, early-twentieth-century American vanguard poet.”
“Do you know who is mining the black crystal, Swap?” my husband asked.
“I am,” the worm told him. “I consume it, along with rock, minerals, and other inert materials. It has no negative effect on me, if that is your concern. My physiology is quite unique. Like this creature who is killing my colonist friends and taking their skins.”
“We presume that the killer is using the skins to disguise itself,” my husband said. “But there are far easier ways to conceal identity that would not require murder. I think its main purpose is to acquire what lies beneath the skin.”
“But we haven’t found anything but the skins,” I pointed out. “The killer could be disposing of them by incinerating them or simply throwing them down one of the mine shafts.”
“Alas,” Swap said, “I can personally attest that no bodies have been left in the passages below the surface.”
Mercy made a rude sound. “Of course not. That Hsktskt is eating them.” She turned around. “Is your console chime going off?”
A pseudopod the size of Moonfire slid past us to search through one of the ooze-covered piles, from which it retrieved a blinking wristcom. “Would one of you be so kind as to answer this? I fear my form does not allow me to manipulate such minuscule controls.”
Mercy took it and answered the signal. One of colonial security’s shift supervisors had issued a colony-wide alert, which repeated on an automated loop.
“The mercenary responsible for the blockade, Aleksei Davidov, has escaped protective custody,” the supervisor said. “Security will recapture him as soon as possible. Any colonists willing to aid in the search should report to their dome leader. Davidov may be returned dead or alive to central security. The mercenary responsible for the blockade, Aleksei Davidov, has escaped protective—”
“Great.” Mercy switched off the audio and returned the wristcom to the appropriate pile. “We need to find Davidov and his Hsktskt before Posbret and his raiders do. Swap, will you help me?”
The pink mass in front of us retreated a few feet. “I am sorry, my sweet one, but no, I will not.”
Mercy frowned. “What are you talking about? You just need to sweep the tunnels and make sure they’re not down there. I’ll check the domes.”
“I will not assist you in finding them, or killing them,” the worm said gently.
“They’re killing our people,” she shouted.
“Something is killing your people, but it is not the Terran or the Hsktskt,” Swap said. “I will explain my theory.”
“I don’t need a theory.” Mercy turned to me. “Can you find your way back to Gamers?” When I nodded, she stalked into the passage.
“She was just as loud and passionate and determined when she was five years old,” Swap said thoughtfully. “Only quite a bit shorter.”
“You said that you didn’t know who was killing the colonists,” Reever said.
“To be accurate, I said I could not put a name to the creature,” the worm replied. “Sovant do not take names. Only skins.”
“Sovant.” I searched my memory for the word, but neither I nor, evidently, Cherijo had heard it. “What is that?”
“A parasitic life-form that invades a host body with its embryonic form,” Swap said. “It immediately takes over the victim’s mind and begins to eat the body from the inside out. It stretches to fill the spaces it creates, but it cannot replace what it devours. After a few days there is nothing left but the skin covering it.”
“When the skin begins decomposing,” Reever said, “it discards the skin to infect another host?”
“It cannot survive for long outside a host body. It must capture the new victim, contract to its original size, and pass from the old to the new.” The worm sounded disgusted. “There are few signs that it is occupying a body. Unusual strength, ferocity of purpose, and muteness—the Sovant cannot speak.”
“Is there bleeding around the orifices?” I asked, seeing again the image of the Tingalean’s blood-rimmed eyes.
“In its final days, yes,” Swap said.
Reever looked grim. “How do we stop it?”
“The Sovant are drawn to events involving violence and chaos, as they have the potential to wound or weaken those involved,” the worm told him. “If there aren’t any, it will cause them, as it did with the Renko. It will seek out your patients, Doctor. The injured and helpless are its favorite prey, because they do not put up much of a fight.”
I thought of all the crew members on the simward and shuddered with revulsion. “We will put guards around the wounded.”
“You have two or three solar days before it uses up the body it presently occupies,” Swap said. “Duncan, Mercy told me that Drefan has arranged a bout between you and this Hsktskt female. Perhaps you could adapt that to make a trap for the Sovant.”
Reever nodded, but asked, “Why do you think it would come for me or Tya when it could take one of the wounded?”
“Tya is very large, and feeding on her body could sustain it for a week, perhaps more,” Swap said. “Your new talent to heal rapidly and replace your own organs might sustain it for months.”
I exchanged a look with Reever. “How do you know my husband’s physiology?”
“I tasted the altered cells,” the worm replied. “Quite a refreshing change from the usual Terran flavor. Quite sophisticated. Rather like pheasant would be, compared to common chicken.”
I was fairly certain it was being complimentary. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure. I think you should take one of my tunnels back to Gamers now. If you are quick, you can prevent Mercy from shooting the wrong people. “ Swap slid through his piles toward a large access hatch in the center of his dome. “This way.”
Reever and I followed the worm, who showed us a droplift that would take us down to the tunnels.
“The north shaft will take you straight to the air lock at Gamers’ maintenance entry,” Swap said. “I hope you will use it to come and visit me again. I don’t sleep, and no one but Mercy visits, so you are welcome at any hour.”
“Thank you,” Reever said, stepping into the lift.
Before I followed my husband, I felt a tug on my ankle, and looked down to see a pseudopod gently caressing my leg. I turned back to look at the worm.<
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“Some of the thoughts I collected from you disturb me,” Swap said. “I would offer some unsolicited advice, if I may.”
“What thoughts?”
“You worry about the altered cells your husband wishes to give your child,” the worm said. “You believe it is a curse. Why?”
“It is a great gift,” I replied. “One that countless others wish they could have for themselves. I would not see our daughter hunted or experimented on, as we have been.”
“Then perhaps, instead of changing your little girl to be an immortal like her parents,” the worm said, “you and Duncan should consider becoming mortal again.”
I expected the tunnels below the domes to be cold and dark, but discovered they were just the opposite. A continuous line of small emergency emitters lined the wide rock passage, which had fresh air that seemed only a little cooler than the atmosphere in the domes. I asked Reever why.
“Arutanium mines have to be well ventilated and heated, or the ore taints the air with its poisons,” Reever told me. “I would imagine that Swap diverted some of the supply and return from the mine generators to heat his tunnels.”
I looked around at the rough interior walls. “So these tunnels are not part of the mine?”
My husband shook his head. “The worm is too big to use any of the colony’s passages between the domes. Swap mentioned that he consumes rock and minerals; I imagine his diet is responsible for most of the subsurface tunnels.” Reever stopped and pressed two fingers to my mouth. He then pulled me back so that our shoulders touched the wall of the passage.
“Someone is coming,” he murmured against my ear.
“I can activate the crisis beacon,” Tya’s voice said. “If you have any friends in the vicinity, one of them may come for you.”
A male voice laughed. “After you failed, I stranded the only friend I had left here.”
Tya and Davidov walked into the intersection of tunnels just beyond me and Reever, and stopped there. Davidov looked pale and hunched, his face wet with perspiration. Tya had one of her arms around him.
“Your ship is down,” she told him. “Colonial security has just broadcast an alert for you. These people are very angry. I cannot fight them all, Alek.”
“Weren’t you counting on them to string me up from the nearest dome strut?” Alek reached up and stroked the back of her neck. “Don’t pretend you care what happens to me. We both know why you will jump each time I snap my fingers.”
Tya released him and walked a short distance away, keeping her back to Davidov. “Then snap them.”
“Go to the colony’s main power station,” he told her. “Shut down the environmental systems.”
She hissed something under her breath. “To which dome?”
“All of them.”
I flinched, and felt Reever’s muscles coil against my back.
“The entire population will suffocate within an hour,” the Hsktskt told him, her tone colorless.
“We can only hope.”
She showed him her jagged teeth. “You would kill them all to have your revenge?”
“A great deal can happen within an hour, my dear. If all goes as planned, I’ll let you restart the systems.” His voice hardened. “Shut them down, or I’ll blow the charges I’ve planted around the domes. Then we’ll all die together. One big, unhappy family.”
“I will not kill for you,” Tya shouted.
Davidov feigned a concerned look. “Oh, my poor, poor girl. You have been on your own for far too long. Let me remind you why you’ll do exactly as you’re told.”
Tya threw herself at him. Before her claws wrapped around Davidov’s neck, she made a peculiar sound and fell to her knees. Instead of showing him her throat, her head drooped forward, and uncontrollable spasms racked her body. Raw, agonized sounds punctuated the grinding of teeth and bones.
Davidov said nothing more, only walking around her as he strode into one of the passages.
Reever held me back until Davidov’s footsteps died away, and then hurried with me to the Hsktskt female. Tya had stopped shaking, but her chest worked frantically, and her limbs were locked and rigid.
“Tya?” She didn’t respond to my voice. “She’s having a seizure. Duncan, help me with her.”
We crouched down on either side of her, and between us got her over onto her side. Her eyes had rolled back in her head, and foamy saliva frothed from between her clenched teeth.
I needed to sedate her. “Get my syrinpress from my case.”
“No.” Tya’s slitted pupils reappeared and dilated for a moment before her body relaxed. She swallowed several times before she shoved herself in an upright position. “I am not ill. Leave me now.”
“Reever and I heard what Davidov said to you,” I told her. “I don’t care what he wants. You can’t murder the colonists.”
She shook her head. “If I do not do as he says, millions will die.”
“You don’t know that,” I said. The wild look in her eyes frightened me. “Tya, what has Davidov done to you?”
“He owns me.” Tya looked at me, and the emptiness in her eyes made me catch my breath. “You can try to fight him, but he will prevail. He cannot be stopped. He fears nothing, like the Sovant.” Her gaze shifted. “Like your mate.”
I glanced at Reever, and missed seeing her reach inside her tunic. My husband darted forward, trying to take something from the Hsktskt, and then a crackling curtain of light fell over me and left me blind, paralyzed, and alone.
The energy blast that Tya had used to incapacitate me and Reever began to wear off after a few minutes. I never lost consciousness, but fought the paralyzing effects until I felt some of my vision, hearing, and body control slowly return.
Reever lay sprawled on the floor of the tunnel, one of his arms flung across my waist. I felt his fingers contract and managed to move my hand to his. When I was able to turn my head, I saw his eyes, wide and unblinking, a few inches from my own.
“Stuh.” My tongue resisted speech. “Stuh-un. Stun. Stunned.”
He blinked once, and one of his fingers twitched against my palm. He could not speak or link with me.
I focused, pushing past the sluggish, nerve-dead inertia imprisoning me in my own body, and reached out to him with my thoughts. I knew Cherijo had been able to initiate a link with Reever several times in the past; she had written about it in her journals. I should be able to do the same.
Instead of bringing myself into Reever’s mind, or him into my own, I left my body and drifted into a dark blue cloud spiked with flashing, soundless lightning. Somewhere in the center I felt my husband’s presence.
Leave me here, Duncan’s voice said. It will take too long for me to recover. You must go to Drefan and warn him about Tya, and Davidov’s plans.
I was not leaving him stunned and helpless in the tunnels. Not with the Sovant still running loose. I will signal Drefan.
The stunner will have disabled your wristcom, he said. You have to get to a panel or the dome.
I couldn’t leave him, and I had no counteragent that would make the effects of the stunner wear off faster. I could not carry him or drag him far.
So heal him. You know what to do. The Omorr taught us when he healed our hands.
I felt my body reach out, and my palms press against his chest. Something gathered in me, something I had not felt since walking through the bodies of the dead and dying on the battlefields. She had come with me during those endless, bloody days and nights. She had guided my hands.
Who is that inside you? my husband demanded. Maggie?
If I can merge our minds, I told him, I can free your nervous system from the effects of the stunner. Focus on what I am feeling.
Jarn, you are not a touch healer.
I couldn’t explain how I felt, only that I knew I could do this thing. Focus.
The connection between us connected more than our thoughts and feelings. The neural pathways in our brains had joined and were as one. That was how Ree
ver was able to control my body when he created a link. He could manipulate my nervous system and even take command of it.
As I did with his now.
I didn’t think of what I was doing, or how. I only raced along invisible roads, punching through the crackling curtains of energy blocking my path. As I went through each one, they fell, and the path cleared.
Reever’s hands covered mine, and his limbs twitched. The frantic beating of his heart slowed, and his respiration leveled out. I felt his body lift and his arms support me as I smashed through the last of the paralyzing curtains and drew back into my own head, terminating all of the connections.
I opened my eyes to see my husband’s, alert and somewhat stunned. He was sitting up and holding me upright. Exhaustion dragged at my own muscles, but I dismissed it and straightened.
“For once Maggie does something useful,” he muttered, brushing the hair out of my face. “Are you hurt?”
“Just a little tired.” I considered telling him that the one who had guided me was not Maggie and had nothing to do with her, but that conversation would have to keep. We had to stop Davidov. “Please, help me up?”
Reever stood and lifted me onto my feet. My legs felt as if they were filled with Swap’s ooze, and for a moment I feared they might buckle. I held on to him until I felt steadier and then tugged him toward the tunnel leading to Gamers.
We made it to the maintenance access hatch a few minutes later and passed through the air lock without encountering anyone. I expected to be met by Keel or Drefan, or even one of the staff drones. The Gamers complex seemed completely deserted.
“They’re probably running a game from central control,” Reever said as we approached the simward. “I’ll go to Drefan. You see to your patients. “
I entered the simulator we had set up for the wounded, but the only patients left were the two men I had operated on. I turned around, but the room was empty. “Where are they?”
A small group of Davidov’s men came in behind us, all of them carrying weapons.
“We’ve taken over this dome,” one of them told us. “Come with us.”
There were too many for Reever to fight, and neither of us had fully recovered from the stun.
