by Gregg Vann
Stenth shifted his tone, trying to sound more reasonable. But it was a wasted effort. “I won’t insult you with deception, that’s certain to make you less cooperative. The truth is that even if you do tell me everything I want to know, you may still find yourself incarcerated on Ko’ln. But you will be alive, and have at least a chance at freedom. If you defy me, however, I’ll let this plant drain each of you in turn—while the others watch—until there’s nothing left of you but sunken and dried-out husks, unrecognizable to even your own families. The choice is yours.”
Stenth walked over to a curved locker mounted to the circular wall of the room, just to the left of the airlock. He opened it and withdrew a white, full-body environmental suit and a clear helmet. As Stenth pulled the baggy outfit on over his uniform, he turned to address his prisoners.
“The plant can detect the smell of blood from a great distance, you see, and it lashes out with incredible speed. I confess, the reaction is most unpleasant. This suit will keep it from sensing me, but all of you it will notice immediately.” Stenth placed the helmet over his head and fastened it at the neck, and then he made a wide, encompassing gesture with both arms. His voice came out slightly muffled through the helmet’s speakers. “This sphere was designed specifically to keep this atrocity of nature contained, because just one plant can produce enough spores to repopulate the entire species. If it ever took root on Ko’ln, the plant would cover this world completely, given enough time. But you needn’t worry about that, not that you would, I’ve taken the proper precautions to ensure it remains the last of its kind. Nothing gets out of this sphere without my consent. Nothing.” Awi Stenth smiled. “Plant or animal.”
He removed an electronic bracelet from his wrist and dropped it into one of the outer pockets of the environmental suit. Then Stenth slid the gloves on next to finish donning the last of the protective gear. He checked over everything thoroughly. And when satisfied he was isolated from the globe’s biosphere, Stenth approached the monitoring screen to make some adjustments.
“So, who will be first?” he asked.
Eraz seemed resigned to her fate, but Maxal and Ayel wore looks of absolute defiance. Brother Ryll continued to stare at the plant, as though he were memorized by it to the point of paralysis.
“Commander Eraz,” Stenth said. “Why don’t we begin with you? There’s obviously a close bond between the Iriq and Blenej, and I might be able to use that later, if it becomes necessary. Their unusual relationship and recent point of origin convinces me they were both involved in the attack on our outpost, so it’s not weak conjecture to assume they are also members of the Iriq rebellion. But I doubt they care about a plot to overthrow the Udek government, other than to plan a huge celebration if the effort proved successful. The Iriq only want their planet returned to them. They have no desire to interfere with other worlds—especially now, when they may have succeeded in taking back Polit. The Iriq will entrench and protect their home, not seek out more conflict. I think these two really are your prisoners, but I don’t believe they’re involved in anything else. Their crimes are apparent.”
Stenth turned his head to look at Brother Ryll. “I even have my suspicions about why a Bodhi monk might be here on Ko’ln. Though for the life of me, I can’t imagine what he hopes to accomplish. Mind you, those answers will be revealed, eventually. But you, Commander Eraz, your motivations are shrouded in mystery. Because I know you’re lying to me. My agent didn’t willingly give you the code to bypass planetary security. He would have died first. You took it. And I think you double-crossed these prisoners, your co-conspirators, and then brought them here to curry favor with the military. You’d hoped to cover your tracks with some preposterous story, believing we’d be so occupied with tales of internal treachery that we would ignore your own actions against the government. Maybe you were unhappy and did this to escape your assignment—seeking a better position on Ko’ln, or another of our more pleasant outposts. I don’t understand your motives, Commander Eraz, not yet. But I do know that you’re the sole survivor of the Polit massacre because you aided the rebellion. And now it’s time to prove it.”
Eraz’s hands tightened into fists as the anger welled up inside her, shattering the dispassionate demeanor she’d fought so hard to maintain since first entering the sphere. Despite her best hopes, and Eraz’s most fervent beliefs, Kiro Tien had failed. He was probably lying dead somewhere, broken into a million pieces—just like his ridiculous plan. And now Eraz was going to suffer the consequences of Tien’s defeat. She knew what to expect, of course, Eraz had been through this before. But no amount of mental preparation would help with what came next.
Stenth tapped the screen on the control monitor and a meter-long tube extended out from the plant’s habitat, protruding from one of several square facets set into the smooth surface of the cylinder. He approached the table where Eraz was restrained, and withdrew a scalpel from a box of surgical instruments mounted to the foot of it. Then Stenth used the sharp blade to roughly slice away Eraz’s pants from her left thigh, exposing the skin. A thin trail of blood oozed down onto the table from where he’d carelessly nicked her.
“The plant could easily breach your clothing. We found that out on Hyer. But why make things difficult for it?”
Stenth walked over to the tube sticking out from the habitat and opened a circular cover on the end of it. One of the plant’s appendages immediately darted through a matching opening on the habitat side, sliding across the length of the tube to shoot out a meter past Awi Stenth and into the open air of the sphere. It flailed and spasmed as it tested out the new environment, and then Stenth grabbed the branch-like tentacle with his gloved hand, to begin pulling more of it into the room. Small tendrils reached out from the tip of it as if sniffing the air, and the plant’s trunk began to slowly pulse. The tentacles still trapped inside the habitat started writhing around faster than before, in apparent desperation. Some of them violently smashed up against the small opening of the tube, where the odor of blood was drifting into the habitat. They were like dozens of snakes, trying to dive into the same hole. But there was only enough room for one of the branches inside the narrow tube—by design—and it was already occupied. Stenth clamped down harder on the tentacle and pulled it along with him as he walked. Then he stopped beside Eraz’s table, pausing to test her restraints with his free hand.
Eraz glared up at him. “Fuck you.”
Stenth lowered the tentacle closer to her bare leg and the tendrils lunged out, penetrating the skin. Then the appendage pulled itself down and seated tightly against the top of Eraz’s thigh. Stenth let go of it, and within seconds, blood began oozing up through the plant’s translucent extremity. The other prisoners watched in horror as the cloudy, maroon fluid flowed across the length of the tentacle and into the habitat, where it was quickly absorbed into the trunk of the plant. When the blood reached the plant’s large organs, the other tentacles immediately ceased flailing and froze in place. Only the trunk was moving now.
Pulsing.
Stenth leaned his helmet over Eraz’s face and her breath fogged the glass surface. “Now, Commander, you will answer my questions.”
“I’m going to kill you,” Eraz said.
Awi Stenth glanced back at the monitor. “I can see you actually believe that, but you should prepare yourself for disappointment, Commander. How did you get that code?”
“I’m not telling you anything.”
The tentacle wiggled side to side and latched down harder on Eraz’s leg, easing deeper into her flesh. The flow of blood increased appreciably, for just a moment, and then slacked back off again.
“Ah, did I neglect to mention that if the plant detects any defiance from its prey it increases the drain rate to incapacitate it? Surely you remember that from last time, Commander Eraz. Now, answer me truthfully.”
“I already told you,” she replied. “I got it from your operative on Polit.”
There was miniscule ebb in the flow of blood. Ste
nth checked the monitor to confirm it.
“A lie,” he stated with disappointment. “I warn you, Eraz, this won’t be like the last time—where we had multiple sessions, and I gave you ample opportunities to recover. The military isn’t here to protect you. And after invoking that code, I doubt they have any desire to do so. I want answers, Commander. And I want them now. Or I’ll let this plant drain your life away from you, every bit of it. I haven’t forgotten that business with Kiro Tien, so don’t test my resolve.”
At the mention of Tien’s name, the flow stopped altogether and the tendrils partially retracted. Three seconds later, they slid back into Eraz’s thigh again, resuming the drain. Chancellor Stenth darted a look at the monitor.
“What was that?”
He spun back around, his eyes wide. “Have you been in contact with Kiro Tien?”
Eraz remained mute, but the tendrils repeated the action, partially retracting and re-seating again. Then the plant sensed her defiance and moved to subdue its prey, not understanding the difference between elevated stress and agitation from keeping secrets, and the feral desperation of an animal trying to escape its fate. The tentacle coiled itself around Eraz’s leg tightly and blood began streaming out of her body. The flow increased until it looked like a river coursing through the stretched-taut appendage, surging into the habitat where the plant greedily drank it all in. Eraz’s skin paled and she felt her heart rate slowing, becoming irregular. Then the drain finally eased again as she grew weak, teetering on the edge of consciousness.
Not much longer now, Eraz thought.
“Answer me!” Stenth yelled. The shrewd and calculating spymaster was gone, and all that remained now was the anger that powered him. “What business do you have with Tien? Have you spoken with him? Is he the one behind all of this? Tell me, Eraz. Tell me!”
But it was too late, even if Eraz had wanted to answer him. The plant was regrettably efficient. She was fast losing consciousness, and Eraz knew that death wouldn’t be very far behind. The grotesque predator from Hyer didn’t need her mind kept alert, only her heart functioning to pump the blood. But soon…even that would fail. She could feel it. The plant was the last of its kind, but it would outlive her. Eraz thought that rather funny as she slipped away.
Maxal began cursing loudly. Then Brother Ryll joined in with him, using language one would hardly expect from a monk. Ayel screamed at the top of her lungs, terrified by what was happening on the table right next to her. The plant’s tentacle repeatedly brushed up against her leg as it spasmed through its feeding, draining Eraz’s life away as they all watched helplessly. Ayel went numb, realizing that would soon be her fate as well. The fear was more than her mind could handle, and Ayel’s consciousness collapsed into a semi-catatonic state. Despite the shrieking volume of her own terror-filled wails, Ayel could no longer hear them.
But the plant heard. And it came alive again at the sounds of panic. Its tentacles began flailing around, reaching out for more victims. But the thick walls of the habitat held them back. The slimy appendages slammed wildly against the protective barrier, leaving greasy streaks. And the hard impacts echoed loudly throughout the sphere, adding more menace to the already unsettling cacophony. Amid all of this pandemonium, the terrified screams, hate-filled curses, and savage pounding as the plant tried to escape from its habitat, Awi Stenth continued to yell at a rapidly fading Eraz—oblivious to his surroundings.
Chaos had taken hold inside the room; all trace of order gone. Nothing remained now except the sounds of fear and fury—painful torment, and foul consequence. But then everything abruptly stopped, both plant and animal. There were no sounds. No movements. No words.
Only silence.
The airlock door had opened.
And then Kiro Tien stepped into the sphere.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Awi Stenth spun away from the table, greeting the unwelcome intruder with a scathing gaze. “Who are you?” he demanded. “And what the hell do you think you’re doing in here?”
Tien pulled the darksuit’s head covering open and threw it back, revealing the gleaming android skull as the hood fell across his shoulders.
“Miso?” Stenth remarked, confusion mixing with the anger in his voice. The unexpected revelation didn’t diminish the chancellor’s ire, however, it only pushed it further toward rage. “How did you get in the sphere? And where did you get that darksuit?”
“Hello, Awi,” Tien said calmly. “Don’t you recognize me?”
Miso had addressed Stenth by his first name, and the inconsistency made the chancellor instantly come alert. Decades of experience in the intelligence field were screaming at him now, telling Awi Stenth that something wasn’t right. He peered more closely at the android, taking a moment to examine it with a keen, analytical eye.
Stenth saw deep, pitted abrasions across its neck. And in the ample light of the sphere, he noted several large dents in the android’s torso, visible even beneath the darksuit. Miso’s body hadn’t had those imperfections the last time Stenth saw him, mere hours ago. The android’s voice was also wrong, all wrong. It no longer rang hollow and mechanical, like a machine, but sounded almost organic. There was something else as well—something less perceptible, but perhaps even more telling. Awi Stenth found the android’s stance and mannerisms vaguely familiar, and it naggingly tugged at his mind as he tried reconciling the odd sensation with someone from his past. His thoughts were interrupted as Stenth drew closer to the truth.
“Kill him, Tien!” Ayel screamed. “Kill that bastard!” She had regained her senses when the airlock door opened—when a glimmer of hope invaded the nightmare of the sphere.
Stenth’s confusion gave way to pure delight, and his outrage transformed into joy. “Tien? Kiro Tien? Is it really you hiding inside that android body? Well, well, well.” Stenth gestured at the table holding Brother Ryll. “That certainly explains the presence of this monk on Ko’ln, and how you came to be in that form. The Bodhi have hired themselves an assassin. One of my assassins. I would have never expected that. Never.” The chancellor grinned. “But I doubt you’ve come all this way just to kill Miso for them, Tien. We both know better than that. You’re no altruist; you would have demanded something for yourself in exchange. You don’t care about wealth or power, you never have, so I can only imagine that you are here to kill me.”
“You’ve always been very astute, Awi. At times, uncannily prescient. I’m sure that’s how you’ve managed to stay alive this long with so many enemies.”
“You’re more right than you know, Kiro.”
Stenth began inching a hand toward one of the pockets on his environmental suit as Maxal called out, “Forget about him, Tien. He’s unarmed. Blast that fucking thing attached to Eraz. It’s killing her!”
Tien looked away from his old mentor for only a second—just long enough to size up the situation in the sphere, and to trace the plant’s tentacle from the habitat to Eraz’s leg. But that second was all Awi Stenth needed. He drove his hand into his pocket as a micro-missile popped up from the housing on Tien’s arm. And right before it left the cradle on its short journey to incinerate the plant’s appendage, Stenth depressed a button on the electronic bracelet, now in his grip. Tien collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut, and the missile tumbled out from his falling arm. The chemical propellant ignited before the missile had a chance to lock on to its intended target, and the wayward projectile struck the base of Eraz’s table instead. The explosion sent the table toppling over to the ground with Eraz still attached to it, and filled the room with a hazy white smoke. Stenth leisurely strolled over to Tien’s inert form as the sphere’s environmental controls worked to clear the air.
“How terribly ironic,” he said. “After sending, and losing, so many operatives trying to kill you, you end up coming right to my door. Maybe I should have just waited. It would have been a lot easier on my personnel.”
Awi Stenth knelt down next to the android and briefly inspected it, and then
he turned the bracelet over in his hand to examine the back of the device. A tiny display there showed a pair of red and yellow lines, dancing across a patterned graph in a repetitive sequence. There were no obvious clues to their purpose, or any indications of what the lines represented. But Awi Stenth knew, and he dangled the bracelet down in front of Tien’s face.
“I know you can hear me, Tien. This instrument only cripples the android’s mobility, and renders the weapons systems harmless. We haven’t devised a way to shut down the senses yet, or the internal chamber that contains the consciousness. After we managed to get some decent scans of Miso, I tasked our science department with developing a weapon to use against this new Bodhi creation. We hadn’t had a chance to test it yet, so I’m happy to see that their efforts were successful. Somewhat relieved too, as I’m sure you can imagine. Thank you for this opportunity, Tien. Truly. We can’t have the Bodhi running around with armored attack androids, can we? Not without some type of countermeasure in place to stop them. That just wouldn’t do. That wouldn’t do at all.”
Stenth leaned forward to grasp Tien’s shoulder. Then he rolled his helpless victim over onto his back, with Tien’s face pointed up at the ceiling.
“We may not have come up with a way to shut down the soul chambers, but we did figure out how to access them. And once removed from the body they can be destroyed easily enough—either by sending the chamber into a star, or triggering the Bodhi fail-safe somewhere out in space. I imagine we could accomplish the same thing with the device still inside the android, but this method allows us to keep your body for further study after you’re dead.”