The Spider and the Fly

by C.E. Stalbaum

  ***

  “We have to evacuate the city,” Councilor Tavore said for the third time in the last minute. “There’s no way to guarantee our safety.”

  “Safety is never guaranteed,” Urekal scoffed with a wave of a massive gray hand. “And as usual, you’re overreacting.”

  Revask let out a half-hiss, half-snarl. “Hardly. If Coveri has turned against us, then the Convectorate already knows where we are! I agree with my colleague: we must begin preparations for a full-scale evacuation.”

  “And what preparations would those be, exactly?” the Krosian asked pointedly, his lone red eye boring into the Rakashi. “There aren’t enough ships in port to hold a quarter of the city’s population.”

  “The two Ghallar-class transports can carry almost twenty-five thousand people each. We have more than enough space.”

  “Except we haven’t had sufficient power or resources to maintain either of them in years. I doubt their drives would even spin up.”

  Selaris tried in vain to tune out the continued screaming match as she stared blankly at the statue of her great grandmother, Anara Gantrell, on the opposite wall of the Ecclesia. Markus was gone, just as he said he would be, and now half the Council and a significant portion of the city’s population seemed convinced that New Keledon’s days were numbered.

  Not that she could really blame them. She understood how bad it looked, and she understood the stakes if Markus actually had turned against them. But he hadn’t, and he wasn’t going to. She was certain of it. The problem was that she had no idea how to convince the rest of them.

  “Markus won’t betray us,” Selaris interjected during the next pause in the fighting. “He still believes he can persuade Vale to switch sides.”

  Revask turned to look at her, his left ear flattening against his head. “And how do you know this?”

  “Because he came to me just before he left. He admitted that it was a mistake to bring her here, but he wasn’t willing to give up on her just yet.”

  “He told you he was going to leave?” Tavore asked incredulously. “And you did nothing to stop him?”

  Selaris shrugged. “I told him not to go, but there was nothing else I could do.”

  “You could have called security,” Revask snarled. “Or alerted the rest of the Council.”

  “To what end? No one in this city has the power to stop him, and this way people were less likely to get hurt.”

  A bitter silence fell over the chamber. Dimly, Selaris wondered if it was the same silence her father had encountered when he’d first reached out to the Mire. Back then he’d made a city-changing decision without consulting any of them, and in a way she’d just done the same.

  “That is…disappointing, Your Highness,” Zalix said eventually.

  “It’s insulting is what it is,” Tavore snapped. “Just like her father, she presumes to do whatever she wishes. What use is this Council if humans are the only ones allowed to make decisions? We might as well cut the pretense and start calling her queen.”

  “You’re being overdramatic again,” Urekal told her, though his voice was strained. He clearly wasn’t happy about the situation either. “Lady Selaris is correct—there was nothing she could have done to stop him. We knew from the moment Markus arrived that we were woefully unequipped to deal with a Spider.”

  Tavore turned to face him. “So once more we do nothing? I’ll ask again: what use is this Council if we are subject to the whims of a single member or helpless before the might of one citizen?”

  Selaris closed her eyes and tried once more to tune out the old debate, but a few seconds later she felt an odd tingle in the corner of her mind. Even without consciously extending her telepathic senses, she could feel another psionic presence approaching the Ecclesia. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to identify it. None of the other adepts were strong enough to radiate this kind of power, and Markus and Vale were both gone. So who…?

  The door hissed open a moment later, and Lord Foln stepped inside. He was alone, and a grim, satisfied smile stretched across his face.

  “Lord Foln, thank you for coming,” Zalix greeted him. “How is your lieutenant?”

  “Doctor Varm assures me that she will recover.”

  “We’re glad to hear it,” Revask said, sounding vaguely sarcastic even though he probably didn’t intend to. “Then perhaps you can take the time to explain to us why she attempted to confront Coveri without alerting the city guard.”

  Foln shrugged casually. The satisfied smile still hadn’t left his lips. “I don’t know; you’ll have to ask her when she awakens.”

  “What have you done?” Selaris asked hoarsely. Now that he was standing here in front of her, the power emanating from him was immense. If she closed her eyes she might have mistaken him for one of the psionic power generators at the heart of the city.

  The other councilors looked at her quizzically, but Foln’s grin only widened. “I have given hope to our people, Your Highness,” he declared. “I have cured the Pandrophage.”

  “What?”

  Selaris wasn’t sure how many voices had spoken the word, but everyone on the Council was now staring directly at Foln. They might not have been able to sense his power like she could, but they knew he’d done something.

  With appropriate dramatic flair Foln thrust out his hand, and one of the chairs in front of the councilor’s bench whipped across the chamber and shattered against the wall.

  “Gods be merciful,” Tavore breathed.

  “There’s nothing to fear, Councilor,” Foln assured her. “This is glorious news for our city…and for all sentient beings subjugated by the Convectorate. Our war for freedom can finally begin.”

  Selaris forced herself to swallow. She’d known that Varm had been continuing his research on the soropan stimulant, but she couldn’t believe it had actually worked…or that it had given Foln so much power so quickly. He’d never shown even a scrap of psionic ability before as far as she knew, and he’d certainly never spent any time training. So how was this even possible? Markus had repeatedly told her that she was the strongest psionic mind he’d ever touched, and yet somehow in the span of one evening an old man had already eclipsed her?

  The console in front of Zalix beeped, and the High Councilor glanced over to it with barely concealed dread. No one was supposed to contact the Council during active deliberations unless there was a serious emergency.

  “Zalix,” he said after he pushed the button.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt you, High Councilor,” a trembling voice came back, “but a large ship is approaching the city.”

  What little golden brown lingered in the Thursk’s mane instantly grayed. “Have you been able to identify it?”

  “The computer doesn’t recognize the design, but it is broadcasting a Mire ID signature. Did you grant another of their ships authorization to dock?”

  “No,” Zalix whispered, his eyes returning to Foln. “I most certainly did not.”

  “It is my flagship, the Golem,” Foln said calmly. “And it has come to begin preparations for the war effort.”

  The previous silence had been thick with shock and awe. This one was filled with terror.

  “What have you done, Soren?” Zalix breathed.

  “I have done exactly what Davin Gantrell brought me here to do. I am going to lead our people to victory over the Convectorate.”

  Revask snarled and glared at the com. “Lock defensive turrets on that ship! Destroy it the moment it’s within range!”

  “We can’t,” Urekal murmured. Even his indomitable Krosian resolve seemed shattered. “The city hasn’t had power to fire those weapons in years.”

  “One of many things that is about to change,” Foln said. “New Keledon and its resources have been squandered for far too long. There are nearly fifty thousand people on this asteroid, men and women whose lives have been ruined by the Convectorate. It is time for them to stop hiding and start fighting back.”<
br />
  “These people aren’t soldiers,” Zalix said. “They’ve never been trained to fight.”

  “Another mistake that can and will be corrected. For once the citizens of New Keledon will earn their keep instead of leaching upon human generosity. And with the cure, we can finally begin training our own psychic operatives to stand against the Widow and her Spiders.”

  “You’re insane,” Tavore breathed. “You’d risk the lives of everyone here just to sate your human ambition.”

  “We can’t just sit here!” Revask growled. “We can’t let him get away with this!”

  “Actually, Councilor, that’s exactly what you are going to do,” Foln told him. “You’re going to sit there patiently while I explain my plans to you, and if you refuse to cooperate, you will spend the rest of this war locked away in the prison until you change your mind. The same goes for the rest of you.”

  Tavore hissed between her teeth. “You can’t be serious. We are not about to let the Mire stage a coup.”

  “You act as if the decision is still yours. It is not.”

  Revask vaulted up out of his seat. “Your ship isn’t here yet, traitor! Guards!”

  The two heavily armored Krosians in the back of the room stepped forward and drew their pulse pistols. Foln didn’t even twitch.

  “Order the Golem to stand down,” Revask demanded. “Now!”

  Foln’s smile returned. “I think not.”

  The guards took another step forward—and then almost simultaneously dropped their weapons and kicked them across the floor. The two men stared down blankly at their hands, confused as to why they were suddenly empty…

  “What have you done to them?” Tavore stammered.

  “I just saved their lives,” Foln said. “And I will do the same to save yours, if necessary. I suggest you cooperate instead.”

  “This is intolerable!” Revask bellowed. “You will not—”

  A low rumble shook the air, and the Rakashi crumpled back down into his chair. He roared as he struggled to stand, but an invisible telekinetic hand pinned him firmly in place.

  “Now, Councilors,” Foln said as he stepped out in front of the podium and folded his hands together, “we will discuss the future of this city…and your role within it.”