“Most interesting!” Hresh mused in his erudite tone.
More came to replace their skewered brothers and the pod grew larger, shivering with wrath like a rattlesnake as if to warn its attackers to stay away. The puffballs paid no heed, swarming in numbers and the pod shivered and jerked every which way like a jelly bean in a deep-fryer. How, Yul had no clue. He saw no means of locomotion for the thing: no legs, cilia or jets of propulsion. He simply watched the spectacle through the filmy glass with an awed and chilled expression. Whatever it was, it shucked off each invader. The other puffballs, seemingly too programmed to get the dire message, melted when the pod oozed a thin vapour which withered their outer flesh, much as it had the men’s faces back in Mathias’s lab.
“Wondrous! Fascinating!” cried Hresh, clapping his hands. “It’s beyond belief.”
Cloye snarled. “Let’s hear you say that when one of them is clamped on your body.”
Hresh appeared not to hear. He mumbled words to himself, as if in the grip of some poignant memory. “Mathias was solely in it for the money: how can we use the Biogron as a military weapon? How can we drive prices higher and sell it to the highest bidder? Whole armies exhibiting invincible forces! He made my blood turn cold. An entity such as this, with its adaptive intelligence, could go much further. What I propose could aid civilization as a whole on many levels beyond human imagination: to explore and inhabit new worlds without threat. To figure out new ways of designing and engineering systems, organizing our living environment and settlements in dynamic, futuristic ways.”
Yul scowled. Somehow he doubted that, considering what he saw before him—this sprawled mass of teeth, horn, sharp edges, and titanium steel. “What you crazies seem to forget, is how are you going to control such a thing?”
Hresh moved slowly back toward his glass case, studying the pod’s fight against the puffballs with renewed fervour. “We can introduce override controls, enhanced circuitry, monitoring algorithms.”
“The hell you can!” cried Yul. “What if it adapts beyond your plated playtoy’s restraints?”
Hresh laughed. “You think the thing’s cleverer than me?”
Now it was Yul’s turn to laugh outright. So thought Mathias and Dez when they were scrambling about trying to contain the butterfly when it hatched.
Hresh frowned moodily, stroking his thick black hair. “The thing is almost functional, but not quite. You see, it lacks motility, impetus. A sprawling spider, a freak, a primitive dinosaur, no more. My avatar has much potential but not a significant wellspring of intelligence to drive it. The puffshrooms, as I call them, don’t have enough life-power. They are intelligent, but certainly lack the depth needed for the capabilities I dream of. Look at them die now fighting against this one organism. Pah! I have sent my aide and senior researcher Leam out to collect more of them. But it may be futile. If I have a high enough concentration, maybe it’s the first step. But, my suspicion is that any number of them won’t be enough to power the entity for what I want.”
“You will never accomplish what you set out to do, Hresh,” warned Yul.
“Failing that,” mused Hresh, hearing nothing, “I will try human counterparts, as illegal as that may be. I’m open to volunteers—Are you up for it?” He laughed aloud. “No?” He stared whimsically at Yul, who shuddered. He shot a suggestive glance at Cloye. “Perhaps your lady friend—”
Yul looked at him as if he were insane.
“Of course,” Hresh added, “the two of you could have an unfortunate accident in my lab. Then I wouldn’t have to ask you.”
Yul clenched his fists, ready to fight Hresh’s muscle-men with his bare hands if need be.
“Just jesting, friends! I have a macabre, if not flamboyant imagination that startles people at times. I would not coerce anyone into jumping into the Biogron. I’m not like Mathias.”
A distant boom like a ruptured oil drum came from somewhere overhead. Yul looked up as a massive light fixture fell and shattered a nearby worktable, sending glass and electrical equipment everywhere. A communicator beeped in the blond security officer’s hand and he passed it to Hresh.
Hresh listened scowling, annoyed at the interruption to his work. Yul, standing nearby caught the words: “Sir, looks like Zikri Orbs are in the air, but I can’t be sure. There are other ships out there too—they look like bloated aphid-shaped blimps.”
Hresh sneered. “Deal with it, Gustav. Use our automated defensive weaponry.” He closed the circuit. He turned back to the puffballs. “Ah, where was I?” He mumbled praise for the pod that now was clear of any foes. “Classic protection mechanism, ingenious.”
Yul blinked in amazement. “That’s all you can say, ‘ingenious’? Meanwhile bombs drop on your crib? The Zikri are here! Think, man. More will come. Or Mathias.”
“Let them come. Let Mathias come with all his starships!” Hresh waved a dismissive hand. “My ground forces will take care of them.”
“You will not ward off a fleet.”
“We’ve got surface-to-air cannon that can take out invaders. My supply ships come out of light drive for only a fleeting moment of vulnerability. If they’ve picked up tails, we blast them out of the sky. So far we’ve only needed to use it once. A freelance outfit out of Ujax, space bullies, no common sense in their heads.”
Yul shook his head sadly. “The Zikri are a deal more violent than a few moronic thugs looking for trouble and excitement. You’re lucky the Zikri haven’t blown this hatch and dragged you away in their tanks,” shouted Yul.
Hresh shrugged. “You must have led them here, you idiot—despite your musculature and high test scores. These are the risks of doing business. I should have known.” He chewed his lip, but his eyes remained
