The Damned Trilogy

by Alan Dean Foster

  The female staggered, clasping her head in both hands. Gunecvod growled in astonishment as her companion laid his weapon aside and moved to embrace her comfortingly. His fingers quivered near the trigger as he temporarily disengaged the sight lock. What was going on here?

  Until he found out it might be better simply to wound, to incapacitate them. The three of them were isolated in this corner of the staging chamber. He would have time for hasty but effective interrogation. His knowledge of Human physiology would permit that.

  He raised his rifle a second time. As he did so fresh thoughts rippled unbidden through his mind. Was he going mad? The threat needed to be terminated, not studied. He was in a combat situation, not a lab. He wondered at his hesitation, at the second thoughts.

  He was certain the Humans were not the source of his confusion. There was no guile in their indifference. They were truly unaware of his presence, much less his resolve. Why then this sudden faltering? His thoughts were at war with his intentions, and the result was most disturbing.

  Trembling with the effort it required, he stepped out from behind the cylinder and advanced slowly. His spasms and contortions were not the product of normal Massood hyperactivity. The rifle’s muzzle swung through wild arcs, as if it had taken on a life of its own. Gunecvod gave every appearance of a creature fighting desperately for control of its own neuromuscular system.

  Out of the corner of an eye Ranji saw the Massood approach. He turned, a startled expression slowly spreading across his face as he watched the swaying soldier aim his rifle.

  As Gunecvod touched the trigger a flurry of tiny contradictions seemed to explode inside his brain, blurring his determination along with his vision. The shot went wild.

  Cossinza was right behind Ranji as he dove between stacks of metal tubes. She was not quite quick enough. The second energy bolt struck her hip and was only partly dissipated by her light armor. She didn’t collapse so much as sit down heavily.

  He’d only wounded her, Gunecvod saw. Excellent! decreed one part of his brain. Horribly inadequate, insisted another. Grabbing his forehead as if he could somehow squeeze out the confusion that was tearing him apart, the snarling soldier fired again in the male’s direction.

  The shot struck nowhere near the retreating Ranji. Warily hefting his sidearm, he turned up the amplification on his translator.

  “Soldier, are you out of your mind? Have you forgotten your Lineage? I’m Special Staff Officer Ranji-aar, temporarily assigned to the 84th HS battlegroup!”

  “I know who you are!” the Massood’s translator roared. It was loud, but not as loud as the pain in his head. He staggered but stayed erect. “I know all about you!”

  Ranji was not very familiar with Massood mannerisms, but it was clear enough that this particular individual was unbalanced. Right now the sole objective must be to distract him and draw him away from the injured Cossinza.

  “We’re Human! We’re your friends, your allies.”

  The Massood bared sharp teeth, resisting the pounding in his skull as he scanned his surroundings. “Not you, Ranji-aar! Not you and your mutant friends! You have to die, all of you. You are too dangerous to let live. You may have fooled everyone else, but not I, not Gunecvod! I know you for what you are, offspring of the Amplitur. I will not let you play with my mind. I defy you!” Cossinza flattened herself against the floor and covered her head as the soldier fired blindly into the stacks of supplies and equipment, his rifle crackling.

  “You’re crazy!” Ranji kept moving as he spoke.

  Gunecvod whirled and scorched the floor where his quarry had been standing an instant earlier. Wheezing Massood laughter bubbled from his throat.

  “I think not. I know what you can do because you’ve done it to me. The water. Remember the water!” He fired again, obliterating a stack of lubricating injectors. Alien stink stained the air.

  “Even if you’re not imagining things, what does it matter?” Ranji yelled from cover. “We’re Human, we’re your allies!”

  Gunecvod turned slowly, searching. “Are you? I do not know what you are. I know only what you can do, and that cannot be allowed. Cannot! You have to die. All of you have to die.”

  Abruptly Ranji realized what must have happened. “Listen to me, Gunecvod of the Massood! This isn’t you thinking, these aren’t your thoughts. I know that there’s an Amplitur close by. That’s who wants us dead. That’s why you’re acting like this!”

  Gunecvod stood swaying, blinking uneasily. The Human was trying to trick him. The decisions he’d reached had been arrived at well beyond the range of Amplitur influence. What if one of them was nearby? It didn’t matter. Certainly the creature would delight in seeing one ally kill another … but he’d determined that these modified Humans were not allies, could not be allowed to live. If that put him on the side of the Amplitur, it was only temporary and coincidental … wasn’t it? He reached up and pressed long fingers against the side of his skull. Kill, wound only, support … there was too much going on inside his brain. Cognitive space was limited, perception was limited, reality was far too open to speculation.

  What was happening to him? Which of his thoughts were his, which those of the modified Human, which those of the Amplitur? They were crowding him out, these irresistibly subtle deep probers, shoving the mere proprietor of the mental field of battle aside. When they had concluded their contest and one had emerged the master of persuasion, would there be anything left of Gunecvod? Truth eluded him like a fast-moving insect.

  A cross between a scream and a sob emerged from his trembling mouth. His nose twitched uncontrollably, and spittle dripped from the lower jaw.

  Taking a calculated chance, Ranji slowly rose from behind the replacement landing skid he’d been using for cover.

  “Look at me, Gunecvod of the Massood. I’m Human. I’m your friend. It’s the Amplitur who’s putting these evil thoughts in your head.”

  “No!” The end of the rifle gyrated. “No, I made up my mind before this! My own mind. I reached conclusions. I vowed … I …”

  “There are only a few of us.” Ranji stood ready to dive behind the protective skid again if the muzzle of the weapon rose any higher. “I won’t deny that we can do … certain things. That doesn’t make us any less an ally of the Massood. Are you so sure that we’re dangerous to you? Are you completely convinced? Think, Gunecvod! We could be the critical link in the ultimate destruction of the Amplitur. In saving your own people from the Purpose. Don’t throw that chance away. Who are you to make a decision of that scope?”

  “Who am I?” Gunecvod blinked as he attempted to focus painful consideration on the suddenly confusing subject. “I am … I am …”

  It was true. He was only a simple soldier. Not a S’van, not a Turlog. An ordinary warrior of unspectacular lineage.

  Was that movement behind him? He whirled, searching wildly for bulging eyes on weaving stalks, for a large, soft body armed with questing tentacles and irresistible thoughts. Alone; he was so alone. With his wavering determination, with his cataclysmic thoughts.

  The Human female lay nearby, half-paralyzed by his weapon. He took a wavering step toward her. “I … I am sorry. I do not understand, I didn’t …”

  She looked up at him, anxiety and compassion colliding in her expression. “I understand. You didn’t know what you were doing. It’s all right.” She looked sharply to her left. “There is an Amplitur here.”

  Suddenly he was very calm. He knew, with the clarity of perfect certainty, exactly what it was he had to do. He raised the muzzle of his rifle. Behind him, a reluctant Ranji drew his sidearm and aimed.

  As Cossinza screamed good soldier Gunecvod gripped the muzzle of his weapon in his teeth and, as a warm and welcoming peace took possession of him, thumbed the trigger.

  She was still staring at the smoking body when Ranji knelt beside her. “I didn’t mean for him to do that. I didn’t mean for that to happen. When I reached out to him I was just trying to make him feel better, to ea
se the pain that was tormenting him and making him act this way.”

  He helped her find a place to sit up. “Meanwhile I was pushing him to withdraw and the Amplitur was pushing him to shoot, and in the midst of all that you hit him with a double dose of sympathy and understanding, the one thing he wasn’t expecting and didn’t know how to handle. The contradiction between what he started out to do and what he was feeling from you was too much for him. He couldn’t take it anymore.” He glanced in the corpse’s direction.

  “I guess he was tired of arguing with himself, of trying to decide which were his thoughts and which were being imposed from outside. So he resolved it the easy way. Damn. This wasn’t what I wanted.” He rose to survey their surroundings.

  “You need medical attention. This far out in front I’d rather not use a communicator. Might be picked up and targeted by the other side.” He eyed her speculatively. “I could carry you.”

  She shook her head. “Fighting’s moved deeper into the mountain. Hand me my rifle.” He did so and she cradled it in her lap. “You can find help a lot faster without me. I’ll be all right here.”

  “Sure?”

  She managed a wan smile. “Just don’t stop for a sandwich on the way back.”

  He nodded, turned, and started off toward what he hoped was the center of the advancing Weave force.

  XXIV

  Twenty strides and several thoughts later he rounded a corner … and there it was. A glistening, glutinous shape resembling a shift loader encased in amber. One eyestalk and one quadruple-digited tentacle swung lazily toward him. Horny mouthparts clacked rhythmically while iridescent blobs of color pulsed and contracted within the smooth epidermis, chromatic indicators of their progenitor’s emotional state.

  Once it had been an object of respect; indeed, veneration. A Teacher. Now it was as alien to him as a living creature could be. In place of the visceral hatred that veneered his spirit old memories, old teachings, old admiration threatened to overwhelm him.

  He blinked, smiling to himself. Cold realization burst the narcotizing bubble of nostalgia.

  You move fast, he thought, but that won’t work on me. Not now. Not anymore. I’m ready for you. My whole life has been spent preparing for this.

  Having identified Ranji as one of those unsettling modified Cossuutian Humans capable of pushing, the Amplitur followed its reflexive defensive reaction with more subtle suggestions. Why did Ranji fight so hard to deny his heritage? Why not allow the pain to be banished? Follow and return. Abandon this foolishness, the confusion that was tormenting him. Return to the peace of the Purpose. The harmonizing, calming, reassuring tranquillity of the Purpose.

  Ranji felt as if someone were trying to stuff his head full of thick, cottony insulation, to muffle not only sound but thought. He swayed slightly but held his ground, neither advancing nor retreating. Cossinza needed medical attention. A moment ago that single thought had commanded his actions. Now it was fusing with a pastel mental bubble as inconclusive as a drunken sunset, its importance muted by unanticipated indecision. He felt he would need all the concentration he could muster, every iota of energy, simply to move his limbs of his own volition.

  How had this happened, Sigh-moving-Fast wondered? Where had the great experiment failed, and whence this extraordinary and utterly unexpected biological development? Of one thing there was certainty: this remarkable individual had to be obtained for study, alive and intact. Alongside that the taking of Ulaluable faded into insignificance.

  The Human appeared poised to flee. While simultaneously reaching, pushing, cajoling with its mind, the Amplitur spoke aloud, utilizing the translator positioned beneath its mouthparts. Anything to hold the biped within range.

  “Stop! I know what you are, Human. You must come with me.”

  A hesitant Ranji slowly shook his head, a gesture the Amplitur sadly recognized as Human and not Ashregan. “My companion is injured and needs help.”

  “Come with me,” said the Amplitur soothingly. “Medical assistance will be provided, wellness guaranteed.”

  “The kind of wellness you brought to the real world of my birth? No thanks.” He was smiling now. Aware of what the Amplitur was trying to do, he was able to resist, brush it aside, fight it off. “You can’t do anything to me or mine anymore. Your experiment is a failure. We’re going to beat you, you know. Maybe not in my lifetime, maybe not in my children’s, but the end is inevitable.”

  “All that is inevitable is the triumph of the Purpose.” The Amplitur sounded tired. “Do you not realize that when they learn of your capabilities your own allies will annihilate you? Just as the single Massood intended?”

  “This is all still new to us and we were lazy. That’s what made the soldier suspect. It won’t happen again. We’ll be careful.”

  “Be careful as you will; such power cannot be concealed forever. I implore you: share what you have become, share your great and accidental gift, with those who best understand its import. We can teach you, show you how properly to make use of it. You and your kind can still be part of the Purpose. A vital part.”

  “No thanks. I don’t want to be a part of anything anymore, except Humanity and eventually a family. Keep your damned Purpose. I prefer independence. I prefer Humanity. I prefer me.”

  “That is unfortunate. You and those like you are dangerous. You must be studied, appropriately supervised, and if that is not possible, contained.”

  “Sorry. Some of us are out of the cage you built for us, and we’re not going back in. You can’t stop me. If you could I’d be following you meekly back to your lines right now.”

  “You are wrong.” The Amplitur reached into the pouch that was slung between its head and forelegs and extracted a small angular plastic shape. Ranji couldn’t keep himself from staring.

  “What is an Amplitur, the self-proclaimed epitome of higher civilization, doing with a gun?”

  “I am not sure. This is quite an anomaly, is it not? But the gun is real. It feels real to me. If I am compelled to use it the effects will be real to you. So you see, you are after all my prisoner.”

  “You won’t use that on me,” Ranji observed firmly. “You’re not capable of it.”

  The Amplitur pointed the pistol at a stack of small oblong crates and fired. The crates exploded.

  “You know that my eyesight is excellent. It is equal to my resolve. You will come with me voluntarily or if need be I will destroy your limbs and drag you.”

  “This is very un-Teacherlike behavior,” Ranji commented, trying to determine his next move.

  “These are very unusual circumstances. Extensive mental discipline and training allows me to temporarily subvert those natural inhibitions which would paralyze a Hivistahm or T’returian caught in a similar situation. Externally I realize that my actions verge on the unstable, yet through the Purpose I am able to overcome this. Presently I am functioning within a self-induced psychosis.

  “The actual methodology of the cerebroethical gymnastics required to accomplish this remarkable feat need not concern you. Concentrate instead on the weapon and the danger to your person, and respond appropriately to my instructions.”

  Ranji eyed the gun, thinking hard. “I’m not going anywhere without Cossinza.”

  “By the Wellness, bring her. I calculate that you possess the necessary physical attributes and the distance is not far. I promise you that she will receive immediate and expert medical attention.”

  Could he make it to cover? How much of the Amplitur’s threat was backed by resolve and how much was bluff? Judging from the brief demonstration, the tiny gun was powerful enough to blow his legs off at the knees. Of course, the Amplitur could regenerate them later, but that didn’t make the prospect any less pleasant.

  In any civilized being thought must precede action. The homily was nonetheless applicable for all that it was Teacher training. Ranji put up his hands.

  “All right. I’ll go with you. Anything to help Cossinza.”

  “Now th
at,” said the Amplitur as it gestured with the gun-wielding tentacle, “is a sensible response.”

  Ranji approached the Teacher. “Have any of you ever remarked on the cyclical nature of your reasoning? ‘The Purpose is everything, so anything can be used to justify the Purpose.’”

  “Humankind is a young race, and therefore prone to oversimplification. But I have great confidence. With proper education you will mature.”

  “What you call education I’ve learned through bitter revelation is something else. You utilize the same tortured logic to cripple semantics as you do independent thought.”

  “Both of you, freeze!”

  Eyes on stalks and eyes in sockets looked leftward. A single Human soldier stood behind a loading ramp, his heavy cassion rifle trained in their direction. He was male, young, confused, and scared. The bad combination froze Ranji immediately.

  The heavily armed youth was staring wide-eyed through his visor at the Amplitur. “I heard about the squids. I studied ’em. But I swear to Gaea I never thought I’d see one in person.”

  A field soldier’s thought processes are necessarily straightforward. To him the relative positions and spatial relationships of gun, tentacle, and hands were all the explanation the tableaux before him required. He addressed Ranji without taking his eyes off the Amplitur.

  “Are you all right, sir?”

  Ranji turned slowly. “No problem.”

  “You there, thing. You’re my prisoner. Put down your weapon.” His finger was taut on the rifle’s trigger, the muzzle focused unswervingly between the two eyestalks.

  Sigh-moving-Fast hesitated, trying to apportion attention between the mature Human and the young warrior. Two subtentacular digits tensed on the firing mechanism of the angular pistol.

  Ranji saw. Too far to jump. His stomach contracted to a small, hard ball.

  “You’re just in time, Tourmast,” he said quickly. “It knows all about us.”