Ghost of the Well of Souls

are developed, not the Imperial Court and its allies. If they’d won, fine. The only land nation in the center of that oceanic region would have been invaluable and made all this unnecessary. But, as we expected, they lost, and, having been handed their beggar’s bowls and taking monstrous casualties, they were much easier to convince that it should be the experts who should do the work.”

“Indeed? And what is that?”

“We’re not out to conquer this world, appearances to the contrary,” the general told them. “For one thing, in the incredibly unlikely event that it could be done, it could never be held. Too many alien races, too many biospheres, too many complexities. No, we’re satisfied to establish protective spheres of influence here and let it go at that. No, we don’t want to conquer the Well World, even if it would be allowed.

“We want to conquer your empire, and all the rest that we can see in the sky. An infinite conquest. Such a concept is too glorious to fail!”

General Mochida enjoyed bantering with his prisoner, but he was a pro. He needed what they knew as well as what had been reported to him, and he had the means to get it, thanks to a number of experiments on unsuspecting Kalindan workers and traitors within the Kalindan hierarchy. And with a Kalindan consulate in his pocket just down the road, as it were, he had no problems securing whatever was needed.

Ari and Ming saw the Kalindan syringe, designed to penetrate even that race’s tough leathery hides, and felt the massive sting as the drug went through and into their bloodstream. It didn’t take long at all to take effect, even though they tried to fight it. Before there was even a backward count often from the technician administering the drug, their thoughts simply died away; their resistance, their fear and anxiety, just seemed to melt into the water. They were perfectly conscious, but not only was there nothing they could do about the questions that were coming, there was no desire inside them to conceal anything. There was no friend, no foe, just a nice feeling of well-being and a willingness to do anything, anything at all, that was asked.

“Too bad we can’t just keep this stuff in their systems with an under skin injector,” the General commented. “It would make occupation a whole lot easier. Are they ready?”

The administrator of the drug, a creature that seemed to be all tendrils with tiny eyes at the end of each, examined their eyes. “Yes, I believe so. The metabolism is quite efficient, though, and the defenses are very good, so I wouldn’t count on much past half an hour, even though they might be partially under for much longer.”

“Very well, so we cut to the chase. Ari, Ming, can you hear and understand me?”

“Yes,” they both responded in such unison that it was the one time when the General had no idea who was speaking.

“Do you know Jeremiah Wong Kincaid?”

“Yes,” they both answered.

“Ming only—have you had any contact with Kincaid since being on the Well World?”

“Not that I know of,” she answered truthfully.

“Ari, I assume that you would know nothing once here that Ming did not, so you, too, have not had any contact with Kincaid since arriving on the Well World?”

“No contact,” Ari agreed.

“Do you know what race he has become?”

“No.”

“Does anyone?”

“Yes. Core said that they knew but that they made a deal with him.” Quickly, they explained the arrangement that Kincaid would kill no more in Zone if they ignored his activities elsewhere.

“Interesting. Secrets can be kept if they are really important, it seems. Very well. Let us go on to other business.”

It lasted the full half hour, with a mechanical clock ticking away the minutes. The questions were direct, to the point, and geared toward information, not idle curiosity. The General knew his job well.

He seemed disappointed with their apparent ignorance of just about anything going on, so much so that he almost suspected that he was supposed to have caught them. What good that would do, he didn’t know, but he couldn’t shake that feeling even if he could not get out of them any real threat to him and his operation that they might pose.

“I’m half tempted by my suspicions to program them into marrying little Mitchuk and settling down to have a nice, happy family,” the General remarked to his aide. “Still, if they are some kind of sleepers, then I want to know what’s going on here. Tourmin—you are certain that they cannot lie or conceal from me?”

“Not for another—oh, seven or eight minutes,” the ten-driled technician responded.

“All right. So if they are programmed to any action, they won’t know it themselves. Still, I want them around, if under control.” He turned back to the helpless Kalindan who just floated there, looking at nothing in particular and with an idiot’s demeanor.

“Ming, what are you most frightened of?” he asked her.

“Of becoming one with Ari. Of losing my identity.”

“Ari? Same question.”

“Of becoming one with Ming.”

“Do you dislike her?”

“No.”

“Then why are you bothered by this?”

“Because I am not Ming. I like her, I may love her, but I do not want to become her.”

“I see. But death is not your greatest fear?”

“This would be death,” Ari responded. “We do not fear the physical death so much.”

“Very well, then. Do you fear me?”

“I respect your position. I do not fear you, nor does Ming.”

“Do you fear Josich?”

“I fear only what Josich might do.”

The General seemed satisfied, even if he had far less information than he’d hoped or expected. “I believe we can let them rest now. Sergeant, did you find the supplies?”

The Chalidang noncom slowly floated down near to them. “Yes, sir. Enough for a couple of months if we only use it on her.”

“Tourmin, you certify that the toxin works on Kalindans?”

“Of course,” said the creature. “If you take oxygen from water, if you have an efficient bloodstream and a heart that moves it, and if you are carbon based, this stuff will work. It is actually pretty simple, not a complex compound. We have found fewer than a dozen races where it appears to have either no effect or the wrong effect. Kalinda is not one of those.”

“All right. Give it to them, and show the sergeant and Mr. Ladoch how to administer it after you are gone. At what interval is it to be given?”

“Actually, it averages once a day, but it does vary between species, and I do not have all the figures for Kalindans in my head,” the creature responded. “However, it is not your problem or your concern when to administer it. I assure you that the subject herself will tell you when.”

“Hmmm… Out of curiosity, will it work on us?”

“On Chalidangers? Of course.”

“Then why haven’t I heard of it before? It’s the perfect thing to have in the arsenal of somebody in my business.”

“Expense. It is stable only as a naturally occurring toxin imported from Nyarlath.”

“It can’t be synthesized?”

“So far, only sort of. It can be synthesized, but it tends to break down rapidly, often in a matter of days. In other words, it does not travel well. No one has ever determined what the agent is that causes this, which the synthetic lacks. Most frustrating because, as I said, at its heart it’s a quite simple compound. It may be one of those Well blockages, where it is simply not permitted to be synthesized because of the harm it might do.”

“Interesting. If so, it could be synthesized, and stable if made in the greater universe. Something to look forward to.”