despaired on the hexagonal grid. Vapors rushed over him, blurring his vision and burning him in spots.
He’d almost fallen asleep in exhaustion, but something sent alarms through his tattered nervous system. Ornth was on the move, quietly burrowing nerve threads back into Garth’s spinal cord.
Garth’s eyes snapped open. He grabbed up the sliver of metal and pressed it against the back rim of his skull.
“Don’t,” he said. “Withdraw, or I will be rid of you forever.”
The stinging sensation at the base of his skull diminished. Ornth despaired. We cannot leave. We cannot survive. Why not help your species and mine survive in the future?
Garth considered the request. “I have only one act left within me,” he said. “I will decide what it will be.”
Repair the Great Machine. If you do so, I will exit your body. You may smash me with your boot upon the floor afterward, if you so desire.
Garth was startled and moved by this statement. “That does not sound like any Tulk I know.”
As I’ve told you, I’m not like most of my species.
Garth reflected on the past events with Ornth. He was certainly a creature apart from the self-centered Fryx.
“Perhaps I’ve judged you too harshly,” he said. “You serve not only yourself, but claim a higher purpose?”
Isn’t that abundantly clear?
Garth nodded slowly, wearily. “Very well. I’ll do what I can. But so much of the machine is damaged. I’m afraid my people’s miners have done their work too well. Possibly, I could shunt all remaining power to a single lens. If I could open the great shutters to expose it, and there is enough power to ignite the actuators…”
Yes! Yes! Try it!
Garth groaned and struggled to his feet. By shunting every functional source to this single branch of the great network-the branch he currently stood within-he was able to gather sufficient power to expose one set of lenses.
This heartened both the beings that resided in Garth’s body, and they set about gathering as much power as possible into a central reservoir of capacitance. They would charge it as long as they dared before firing. If they failed, they would have revealed themselves to the enemy. Once located, they could not survive for long.
As Garth worked, he found he felt a new freedom and energy in accepting he was not getting out of this place alive. Knowing that, all his nagging worries slid away and his mind operated unfettered by thoughts of survival. He worked the controls like a man possessed, and with each passing minute, he began to believe the ancient device would fire-at least once.
There would not be enough power to reach the stars, not even a fraction of it. But that wasn’t necessary, as the enemy was right here in the system. Yes-it might just work.
The Duchess Embrak soon wished with all her heart and soul she’d taken her own life. Nude and badly wounded, she was transported on the heaving, warm back of a trach to a waiting landing ship. There she was shoved aboard with a hundred other screeching, weeping individuals. A few of them seemed to recognize her, but none addressed her. They were all female and mature of age, but not elderly. The Duchess tried to reason out why they would been sorted into such a category-none of the reasons she could think of were positive, so she stopped thinking about it.
When the ship launched, it did so with such sudden force the captive women were hurled back against the rear bulkhead. They screamed and groaned in pain. Bones snapped audibly, and some vomited. A few at the bottom of the pile died, crushed to death.
The liftoff thrust soon subsided, and they found themselves floating briefly. She realized in shock they must be in orbit. A few of the women sought to open the exits, but it was hopeless. The Duchess worried that even if they succeeded, they would all be sucked out into space, but she didn’t try to stop them. Perhaps mass asphyxiation would be for the best at this point.
A thumping clang signaled the docking process. The sounds of heavy machinery rang and whirred all around the huddled women. At last, the hatches opened and trachs began collecting them for transport. Having learned her lesson the last time, the Duchess went willingly. The trachs were far from gentle, but they were brutal with those who resisted. Extra limbs were often snipped off and placed beside the squirming, bleeding victim.
The next stage of her journey was far from heartening. She’d expected the ship to be cold and metallic. But the walls were festooned with fleshy growths and the air was warm and humid. She rode on a long train of trachs to a larger chamber. There, at the entrance, a fresh horror met her eyes. She contained her screams only by clamping her lips shut over her mouth.
This new thing resembled a giant, bulbous squid, complete with tentacles and eyes on stalks. It had a grossly bloated body behind its limbs and sensory organs, and there was a terrifying intellect evident in its manner. Somehow its intelligence was the worst part of it-knowing she faced a thinking creature with cruel intentions of its own.
The swollen monster tapped and probed at each woman as they passed. Many who screamed were silenced with a powerful thump of a tentacle. Sometimes, this blow cracked the skull of the victim. Duchess Embrak endeavored to make as little noise as possible when her turn came. She endured those groping, probing tentacles as quietly as possible. She whimpered and squirmed, but kept her eyes shut and did not scream.
She felt a sharp pain in her abdomen. Gasping in shock, she tried to see what it was-there was as lump attached to her. Similar to the gray thing that clasped her wrist stump to stop it from bleeding, this thing plastered to her belly seemed alive and it pulsated. Inside it, she could see a metal box of some kind. She peered in the half-light, but could not identify the box. It did seem to be of human origin, however, not alien. She had no idea what it was, or why it had been attached to her person.
Riding on the trach’s back, her body was racked with quiet sobs.
The Parent fluffed herself as best she was able and summoned two trachs to help transport her to the throne room. She’d been urgently summoned into the Empress’ presence, and she wanted to look her best.
She knew she might be experiencing the final moments of her existence. She did what she could to erase that reality from her mind. She could only hope her preparations had all gone well, and that her moment of triumph was near.
When she arrived at the throne room, her estimation of her odds soared. There was a new throne present-a fifth throne. All of them stood around the Empress’ nest in a semi-circle. The other Parents had already taken their places when the eldest Parent arrived.
“There you are,” the Empress boomed. She’d grown even larger now as a result of her diet of continuous fresh meats, and her pronouncements were commensurately louder when she broadcast them. Her vast person now overflowed the nest she squatted within.
“Please, eldest Parent, take your place on the newest, largest throne. Feast with us.”
Proudly, the Parent did so. She noted with relish the other younger Parents were silent today. None of them twittered at her obscene body. No matter how things turned out today, this single victory was sweet enough to be savored.
“Please note our sixth guest,” the Empress said, gesturing toward a broken stick-figure that stood before her.
The Parent peered, then recoiled in horror. At first, she’d thought it was a human, being of more or less the same general size and configuration. But now she recognized the fallen stalks and permanently closed orbs. It was the nife, and he’d been staked in front of the Empress.
“Too bad you missed the first order of business,” the Empress said unconcernedly.
“I take it the campaign is not going well?” the Parent asked.
“Indeed, but that isn’t the sole reason for the nife’s extermination. He was far worse than a failure-he was a traitor.”
“Really?” asked the Parent, doing her best to sound aghast. “How is such a thing possible?”
“Hubris,” the Empress said. “Pure and simple. He believed himself so expert in military matters that he took it upon himself-well, you know.”
