by Tim Waggoner
And-thanks to Vaddon’s efforts to persuade him-Bergerron had come to believe that too. At least, that’s what the warlord had believed. It seemed he’d had a change of heart.
Ksana arched an eyebrow in surprise at Elidyr’s tone, but her own voice remained calm as she answered, “Perhaps Bergerron has finally come to realize that not only are the creatures we’ve been working with unnatural, they are ultimately uncontrollable as well.”
“Ridiculous,” Elidyr spat. “Everything can be controlled. It’s simply a matter of discovering the most effective way to do it.”
Lirra had a sudden realization, and she turned to her father. “This is the reason you attended Osten’s test today. You were hoping to witness a success that you could report to Bergerron, something that might give you the leverage to argue that the project should be allowed to continue.”
Vaddon sighed as he nodded. “In the months since this project began, we’ve had numerous failures and precious few successes. You being a prime example of the latter, Rhedyn.” He paused. “Our only example, really. Of the four soldiers who managed to bond with a symbiont and not be immediately dominated by the creature’s corrupting influence-including Osten-only you have remained free of the creature’s taint.”
Rhedyn inclined his head to acknowledge the general’s recognition of his accomplishment.
Like Osten, the other two soldiers eventually had needed to have their symbionts forcibly removed, and one had died in the process. Not exactly a stellar record in anyone’s book, Lirra thought.
“Whatever pressures Bergerron may or may not be feeling to end our work here, I’d hoped that if we had some small measure of success to show him, that he might reconsider and allow our efforts to continue,” Vaddon said. “Unfortunately, not only wasn’t Osten’s test successful, he came very close to killing you, Lirra.”
“As second in command and the one who recommended Osten in the first place, I take full responsibility for how his test turned out,” Lirra said.
Vaddon waved her words away with a gesture. “It’s not your fault. The foundation for these experiments is fundamentally flawed.” He gave Elidyr a look. “Symbionts simply cannot be controlled.”
Elidyr walked over to Vaddon and stopped less than a foot away from his brother. “When I first came to you with the idea of using symbionts as living weapons for Karrnathi soldiers, I told you that it would take some time. You stressed this point when you presented the idea to Bergerron. Or was the warlord too addled by one too many blows to the head during his fighting days?”
“Calm yourself, Brother.” Vaddon said. “Bergerron has given us ample time to test your theories regarding the use of symbionts in warfare, and he’s been more than generous when it came to funding. I remember something you told me once, back when I was in command of a regiment of undead. Since the dead do not tire, it occurred to me to try using them to perform menial duties as well as martial ones: setting up camp, digging latrines, preparing meals, doing laundry.… And while they could perform all these tasks to a certain degree of effectiveness-though I admit using them as cooks was a bad idea all the way around-they proved too slow and their attention to detail was sorely lacking. They were really only good for one thing: killing the enemy. During one of your visits home from the university, I told you of my experiment. Do you remember what you said to me?”
Elidyr glared at Vaddon and didn’t answer, so Vaddon went on.
“You told me that the majority of experiments end in failure, that the more times we’re wrong, the closer we come to being right. Our experiment here is a failure, Brother. Accept it.”
Elidyr continued to glare at Vaddon for a long moment, and then he slowly smiled, but there was no mirth in the expression. “How clever of you to use my own words against me. I didn’t know you were that smart.”
“There’s no point in arguing,” Lirra said before Vaddon could reply. “The simple fact remains that Bergerron has ordered us to shut down the project and vacate the lodge, and no amount of bickering will change that.”
The two brothers continued glaring at each other, and Lirra thought neither would give in, but finally Vaddon sighed and nodded.
Lirra looked at Elidyr. “Our duty is clear, and that’s what we should be focusing on, whether we like it or not. Don’t you agree, Uncle?”
“I suppose,” he muttered. He paused then, looking suddenly thoughtful. “You say that bickering won’t change Bergerron’s mind about shutting down our project, but I just thought of something that might do the job-if you’re all willing to hear me out.”
“Bergerron has made his wishes quite clear,” Vaddon said, exasperation creeping into his voice. “I doubt there’s anything-”
“What harm is there in listening, Father?” Lirra said. “Remember what you taught me: ‘Good ideas win battles as often as sharp steel.’ ”
Vaddon frowned at her, but one corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile. “I hate it when you quote me like that.” He turned to Elidyr. “Very well. Let’s hear what you have to say, Brother.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Lirra made her way to the great room of the lodge. A good-sized fire blazed in the large stone fireplace, as the dreary cool summer set in, and the cheery warmth of a fire was always welcome. Thick wooden beams crossed the length of the high-ceilinged room, and the walls were adorned with the stuffed, mounted heads of beasts that Bergerron and his ancestors had run to ground and killed: stags with huge antlers, fierce dire wolves, massive bears, razor-tusked boar, and sleek forest panthers.
Located in the hills on the southeastern edge of the Nightwood, the lodge was well away from main routes of travel but still close enough to the town of Geirrid, where the lightning rail could easily bring supplies. Plus Geirrid had its own garrison, which Bergerron made certain was well funded and well staffed, just in case he should have need of a military force when in residence at the lodge. And while the lodge’s hidden levels had proven perfect for the symbiont experiments, the creature comforts of its aboveground levels had made it a most pleasant place to bunk during the Outguard’s time there.
Chief among those comforts was the great room. Men and women sat in chairs or reclined on couches, talking and laughing while sharing after-dinner ale or playing a game of Conqueror. Over in a far corner of the room, a soldier with a bit of musical talent-a very small bit, judging by his playing-strummed a lute and led a merry group in song. Despite the would-be musician’s meager skills, his friends received his playing with happy enthusiasm, clapping along in time to the tune.
Tonight Lirra had come in search of one soldier in particular, and she spotted him resting on a couch by the fireplace. She walked over to Osten and sat in the empty chair next to him. The others in the great room grew quiet and looked in their direction, more than a little curious. A quick glance from Lirra reminded them to mind their own business, and they resumed their conversations and merrymaking, though perhaps at a softer volume than before.
“Hello, Osten,” she said.
He lay propped up on the couch, a blanket over his legs drawn up to his waist, two pillows supporting his back. He stared into the fire, its flickering orange-yellow light reflected in his brown eyes. At first he didn’t react. She was about to repeat the greeting when he finally spoke.
“Hello, Captain.” His voice was soft, the tone almost completely devoid of emotion. Lirra didn’t like the sound of it.
“Ksana tells me you’re going to make a full recovery,” she said.
“I’m sorry I let you down today, Captain. Sorry that I …” He paused, swallowed, and when he resumed his voice held an undercurrent of sorrow. “That I hurt you.”
“Don’t worry about it. I took far rougher hits than anything you can dish out when my father first taught me how to handle a sword.”
Osten’s lips formed a small smile, but he didn’t take his gaze from the flames. “Knowing the general, I can believe it.” His smile vanished then. He took in a deep breath, let it out. �
�It’s a lot harder than I thought.”
“What is?”
“Bonding with a symbiont. Your uncle tried to prepare me, as did Ksana. I practiced the meditation techniques the cleric taught me, ran their advice over and over in my mind. And when the day arrived, I thought I was ready.”
A bitter chuckle escaped his lips. “I was a fool. Nothing can prepare for you for the reality of the experience. Even before the symbiont latches on to you and pierces your flesh, you can feel it beginning to assault your mind. There’s a … a pressure, as if phantom hands have gripped your skull and are squeezing it. And then there’s a whispering in your ears. No, deeper than that. Inside your mind. Words spoken in a soft, sly voice-words that always seem just on the verge of being understandable, but no matter how closely you listen, you can’t make them out. It’s maddening. And then, when the symbiont actually bonds with your flesh …”
He trailed off and shuddered from head to toe. After a moment, he continued speaking, his voice so soft she could barely hear it over the gentle pop and crackle of the fire.
“The whispering in your mind becomes shouting loud as thunder, but you still can’t understand what’s being said. The ghost hands gripping your head squeeze so tight you feel your skull will shatter and collapse inward like a rotten melon. Your blood seems to boil in your veins, and if you could, you’d grab a dagger and slice open your wrists to drain the molten fire out of you, but you can’t move. You can’t even draw in a breath. The symbiont is on the verge of claiming your body as its own and you have to fight, and fight hard, or be lost. It was a near thing for me, Captain, my fight to retain control of my own body, and to be honest, I feared I would lose. But in the end I won. Or at least, I thought I had.”
Osten tore his gaze from the fire and turned to her with a look of haunted desperation in his eyes.
“They’re intelligent. And if they don’t manage to gain control of your body when you first bond, they bide their time and wait for another opportunity. See, they never stop trying to take you over. Never! The voice quiets after a time, the pressure lessens, and the fire in your blood cools somewhat, but the sensations are always there. Sometimes worse than others, but you’re never free of them. It … it wears you down. I thought I was strong. I grew up on a dairy farm not far from Geirrid, the youngest of seven children. Not only did I work hard at my chores, I had to be tough to hold my own against my brothers and sisters when we played, and we played rough. When it came time for me to serve in the military, I chose to apply to the garrison at Geirrid. It was close to home, and my parents were getting older and …”
His gaze went blank and he frowned, as if he were in danger of losing his line of thinking.
“You joined the garrison,” Lirra prompted.
His gaze sharpened once more and he continued. “Anyway, my point is that I believed myself strong in both body and mind. I thought I could do anything, endure anything, to serve Karrnath. But I was wrong. I was overconfident today. I was determined to do well, to justify your faith in selecting me to receive a symbiont, Captain. And when I saw that the general himself was going to observe my test, I was doubly determined to acquit myself with honor. I was so concerned with impressing you both that I forgot about my symbiont, just for an instant. But that’s all it took. If it had managed to kill you …”
“But I didn’t die, Osten, and Ksana was able to heal the injuries I sustained. And while I’m sure the process wasn’t pleasant for you, we were able to remove the symbiont. You’re free now. And while the test may not have turned out the way you’d have wished, remember this: You resisted the symbiont’s influence longer than most could have. You should be proud of yourself.” But even as she said this, she wondered if she would feel proud if their roles had been reversed. Probably not, she decided.
“You’re wrong, Captain.” He turned his head so that he could gaze upon the fire once more. “About my being free, I mean. The symbiont is no longer attached to my body, and it’s sealed up tight back in its cage. But I can still hear its whispering in my mind. I think perhaps I always will.”
Lirra had to suppress a shudder at Osten’s words. “Give it time. The whispering will fade.”
“Perhaps.” But Osten didn’t sound as if he believed it. He changed the subject then. “Most of the others have been keeping their distance from me, but a few have come over to talk. They told me that Lord Bergerron has ordered the Outguard to cease our experiments and vacate the lodge. They also told me that your uncle has managed to convince the general to allow one last experiment to prove to Bergerron that our program has merit and should be allowed to continue. Are these things true?”
“More or less. The general has given the order for us to begin packing up our equipment in preparation for leaving. He wants us to be out of here before sunset tomorrow. My uncle has proposed a final experiment-one that he’s been preparing for the last several weeks-but the general is still considering the matter and hasn’t given his permission yet.”
“But Elidyr prepares nevertheless,” Osten said. It wasn’t a question.
“Yes. Just in case.”
“Do you think your father will approve the experiment?”
“I don’t know. I hope so.” She was of two minds about the matter. On the one hand, she’d devoted months of her life to this project-as had everyone else in the Outguard-and she wanted it to be a success. But on the other hand, she thought of what Ksana had said earlier in Vaddon’s den, about how symbionts could never be controlled, certainly not reliably. Rhedyn may have succeeded, but he was the only success out of dozens of attempts. She was beginning to believe that the cleric was right, and the project had been a fool’s dream from the start. Still, if there was a chance to salvage even a modest success from all their failures, she believed they should at least make the attempt.
“What sort of experiment?” Osten asked.
“Elidyr believes he has a way to artificially nullify a symbiont’s ability to dominate its host. He’d hoped to have a few more weeks to work out the details before attempting the process, but he’s almost finished with the construction of the apparatus needed for the experiment, and he believes he’ll be ready to test it by tomorrow morning or afternoon at the latest.” At least, that’s what her uncle had promised Vaddon. She wondered if he’d be able to deliver on such short notice. Then again, Elidyr was a brilliant man. If anyone could accomplish the task, he could.
Neither of them spoke for several moments after that, and Osten appeared to be deep in thought. Finally, he said, “So if Elidyr gets the chance to test this new process tomorrow, he will need volunteers to help him.”
Lirra understood where Osten was going with this, and she didn’t like it.
“I know what you’re getting at, and while I can sympathize with you wanting to make another attempt at mastering a symbiont, I can’t-”
Osten interrupted her. “Hear me out, Captain. I’m not asking for a second chance simply to redeem myself.” He paused. “Well, not only for that reason. Believe me, after what I’ve been through, I’d be only too happy never to hear the word symbiontagain, let alone have one of the damned things attached to my body. But as you said earlier, I did manage to successfully bond with the tentacle whip, and I was able to maintain control for several days before it finally succeeded in dominating me. I know what it’s like to resist a symbiont’s influence. I’ve done it, even if for only a short time.” He turned away from the fire to look at Lirra once more. “Besides, if Elidyr’s process works, the whip won’t be able to dominate me.”
“And what if the experiment is a failure and the whip takes control of you once more?”
Osten shrugged. “Then you’ll just have to cut the thing off of me again. Look, I know better than most just how powerful a weapon a symbiont can be. After all, I was bonded to one. Can you imagine the contribution a division of symbiont-enhanced warriors could make to Karrnath’s defenses. Five divisions? Twenty? That’s worth the risk to me.”
Lirra understood how Osten felt. After all, it was the same vision that had motivated her to join the Outguard in the first place.
“Very well. I’ll discuss the matter with the general-if he allows the experiment to go forward. All right?”
Osten gave her a smile-a real one, this time. “Thank you, Captain.” He then turned back to face the fire once more.
Lirra sat with him in silence for a few more moments before taking her leave. Osten needed to rest … especially if he was going to attempt to bond with a symbiont again the next day.
She just hoped her uncle knew what he was doing.
“So now that I’ve promised my brother I’ll work a miracle tomorrow, I need you to help me deliver, Sinnoch.”
The dolgaunt made a liquid rattling in his throat, a sound Elidyr had learned was the equivalent of a sigh. “Ideally, we could use another two weeks to prepare, but I suppose we could be ready in three days if we pushed ourselves. But in less than twenty-four hours?” The creature shook his head, his mane of tentacles writhing slowly like a nest of half-asleep serpents. “I don’t see how we can do it.”