This plan did not please me at all: letting the villains quietly achieve transcendence after all the disruption they had wrought. But I did not have time to devise an alternate strategy because Immu and Esticus were turning our direction. Their faces looked just as ugly as ever…but their mandibles moved less frantically, as if some inner tormenting tension had eased away.
“You were correct,” Immu said. “We had both…we had both been foolish on each other’s behalf. All this time…” She made a rasping noise in her throat. “We intend to transform as soon as possible.”
“I’m fucking thrilled for you,” Festina replied. “Now before you go all jiggly, please release our ships…or even better, tell your computers to obey our instructions and let us take care of—”
“Before any of that,” Immu interrupted, “we have to make sure the Blood Honey is effective. It’s been centuries since anyone used it, and some of the ship’s systems are failing from sheer old age. Therefore, we must still try our experiment.”
She turned to stare directly at me.
“Uh-oh,” Festina said. She turned toward me too.
“What?” I asked. “What experiment?”
Then I remembered. “Oh.”
The Nature Of Cowardice
“The fountain shouldn’t hurt you,” Esticus said, his shovel-tail twitching nervously. “We’ve analyzed the Blood Honey as well as we can. We think it’s still all right; we just aren’t sure.”
“But it will turn me into jelly! Purple jelly!”
“If it works,” said Immu, “you’ll be a million times more than you are now. Transcendent. With power and intelligence far beyond your wildest dreams.”
“But I will be purple jelly! I do not wish to be jelly, regardless of the quality of its dreams.”
Immu stepped toward me. It was the first time she had ventured out of direct contact with Esticus. “Weren’t you the one who called us cowards for refusing to change?”
“You were cowards!” I cried. “And you still are—if you cannot muster the courage to act unless I do it first.”
“All right,” Immu said, taking another step toward me. “So we’re cowards. We’ve thought of ourselves that way for thousands of years—the most cowardly dregs of a race noted for how much it loved to hide. We’re willing to do one last cowardly thing.”
She took another step toward me. Festina moved in between us. “You don’t want to do this,” she told Immu, ignoring the mandibles that twitched right in front of her face. “If you dump Oar into the fountain and it kills her, the League of Peoples will consider you murderers. You yourself said it was too risky to try with a living person.”
“At this point,” Immu answered, “I’m willing to take the gamble.”
“And it isn’t really a gamble,” Esticus said, scurrying up beside his wife. “We’ve done everything possible to check that the honey’s okay. So long as we make our best efforts to ensure Oar’s safety, we won’t be held responsible if something goes wrong.” He reached out tentatively to touch my arm. “It’ll transform you into something amazing. Really.”
I pulled sharply away from him. “I do not find jelly amazing. I should very much hate turning soft.”
“But,” said Immu, “it will cure your Tired Brain.”
Suddenly, I felt as if everything in the world had gone silent. The fountain continued to burble, the Shaddill swished their mandibles together, Festina breathed softly…yet those sounds all seemed very distant. Very quietly I said, “It will cure my brain?”
“Yes,” Immu replied, her translation cloud sliding closer to me. “The honey adjusts cellular activity and DNA…especially anything related to mental capacity. It vastly expands your intellectual power; and in the process, it will correct the genetic blockages that make your brain Tired.”
“That’s right,” Esticus put in most eagerly. “We’ve, uhh…you’re not the first of your people who’s gone through this test. Back at the very beginning, when we were certain the Blood Honey was still good, we…we captured one of your men and we…he thanked us afterward, he really did. Before he left to join the Soft Collective. He thanked us, then teleported away by sheer force of will. So there’s nothing to be afraid of, and everything to be gained.”
I turned to look at the fountain, still gushing with thick-flowing honey. Out near the edge of the basin, the surface of the pool was calm—like a mirror of clear crimson, barely rippled by the splashing in the middle.
It did not surprise me to see two fiery red eyes glimmering up from the liquid’s glossy surface.
The Pollisand had led me to this room. He had promised to cure me, and guided me straight to the remedy I needed. He had simply neglected to mention the medicine would turn me into purple gloop.
One should never trust alien promises. I ought to have known that by now.
“Perhaps someday,” I said, “it will become necessary for me to take this step.” I turned to Festina. “If I become such a one as does nothing for weeks on end and refuses to answer no matter how nicely you speak, you have my permission to take drastic action rendering me into a jellylike state. But not yet!” I glared at the two Shaddill. “Do you hear me? I do not wish to bathe in Blood Honey at this time.”
“Perhaps not,” Immu answered, “but you’re going to anyway.”
Her great shovel-tail swept up from the floor. She intended to smack me into the fountain; but Festina was ready for such a tactic. My friend shot her hands forward, striking nasty little Immu hard in the chest with the heels of both palms. Immu staggered back, her aim spoiled; instead of striking me, the tail’s chitin edge swept harmlessly past, barely grazing my jacket sleeve.
Even that tiny graze was enough to slice a gash in the jacket fabric. The tail was strong and fast and sharp…and it was still whipping wildly through the air as Immu tried to regain her balance. Esticus squealed and ducked as the shovel-scoop slashed past him; I tried to catch the tail, but it plunged away from me, spearing into the soil beside my feet. In a split-second, the shovel was snapping up again, jerking clots of dirt loose as it freed itself from the hard-packed earth. I stomped down hard, hoping I could pin the tail under my heel…but it moved too fast, swishing out of range before my foot touched the floor.
For all their foolish appearance, the Shaddill were fast and elusive. Then again, what does one expect from cowards?
Immu may have evaded me, but she was not so lucky with my Faithful Sidekick. Festina stepped right onto the alien’s rabbitlike foot and slammed another double palm-heel into Immu’s chest. With her one foot trapped, Immu could not backpedal to keep her balance; she toppled back heavily, twisting at the last moment so she hit the floor with her shoulder rather than flat on her spine. Festina tried to press her advantage, jumping forward with the obvious intention of delivering a punch or kick…but Immu still had the use of her tail. It swept up fast and hard, not well-aimed but as dangerous as a swinging ax. Festina was forced to dodge out of the sharp shovel’s reach.
“Stop!” Esticus cried. “Stop, stop, stop!”
He was still crouched down, exactly where he had landed after ducking Immu’s tail. His own tail was tucked tight beneath him; he showed no sign of joining the fight. And yet…he had spoken in Shaddill-ese, not English. That was because his translation cloud was gone—it had vanished in the past few seconds, while I was concentrating elsewhere. Had the cloud’s component bits been scattered by Immu’s tail as it swept through the air? Or had the cringing Esticus sent his cloud on some terrible mission?
A look of horror passed over Festina’s face. Suddenly, she began to choke.
14 Of course, it was Immu’s fog-ball speaking, but I assumed the beetle was transmitting its thoughts to the mist in some way, whereupon the mist provided an appropriate English translation.
26
WHEREIN I FACE THE GREATEST RISK OF ALL
Four Starbiter Lookalikes
Esticus was only a step away. I planted my foot on his tail, just below the scoo
p so he could not swing it. Then I grabbed him by the wrists and heaved him up as high as I could lift. Since I was so much taller, he ended up dangling by his arms, feet off the ground.
In this position, I did not have to worry about his claws or tail, and I held him out far enough that he could not reach me with his mandibles. That only left his feet…and with haunches like a rabbit, he was well built for kicking at things behind his back, but not so good for attacking persons in front of him. Anyway, he seemed too scared to put up a fight—his mandibles trembled, his eyelids fluttered, and he made anxious grunts in his throat.
I too may have uttered the occasional grunt. A creature of Esticus’s size may not be as heavy as a human, but it took great strength to hold him hanging in that position. There was no chance of keeping him suspended for more than a minute…but with luck, that was all the time I needed.
“Let Festina go!” I shouted into his face. “Whatever you are doing, stop at once.”
Esticus did not answer. Neither did Immu. As for Festina, she was clutching her throat and making horrible wheezing sounds. It had to be the work of the missing translation clouds…for Immu’s cloud had disappeared too. I could imagine billions of translation nanites crowding inside my friend, sealing off her windpipe, clotting up her lungs. She was still on her feet, having staggered back to get away from Immu’s tail; but her face was turning dark with blood, and her eyes were bulging. With the hand that was not at her throat, she raised her stun-pistol and fired at Immu.
Immu gave a raspy laugh. “I told you. Those guns don’t work on us.”
“Let Festina go!” I yelled at the two Shaddill. “Perhaps the gun cannot hurt you, but I surely can.” I gave Esticus a shake and he gasped out a hiss.
“You’re the one who should let go,” Immu said, speaking in my own language. Without the translation cloud, her voice was nothing more than a whisper. “We have enough nanites to choke you too.”
“Do not try,” I said. “If I feel the smallest tickle in my throat, Esticus will regret it.”
At that, Esticus wriggled and squirmed, trying to slip from my grip. He could not. The foolish Shaddill had made me stronger than they were themselves.
Immu got to her feet, her tail lashing angrily around her haunches. I turned quickly, placing Esticus between me and his wife as a protective shield.
“Lajoolie!” I shouted. “Sergeant Aarhus! Nimbus and Uclod! Could you please lend me assistance?”
“Save your breath,” Immu said in her whispery voice. “Did you think we’d be stupid enough not to deal with them?”
She clapped her hands: a sharp smack with an after-clatter of claws clicking against each other. It was obviously a signal of some kind; I looked around quickly, wondering if I would be attacked by robots or nanites. But the attack was not aimed at me…and by all evidence, the attack had taken place some minutes earlier, so quietly I had not noticed it.
Four stringy blobs rolled in through the door. They looked like human-sized versions of baby Starbiter—gray threads sunk into damp goop that glistened wetly in the dim light. In this case, however, the goop was not white but murkily clear…making it possible to see dark silhouettes embedded in the heart of the blobs. I had no trouble identifying the silhouettes by their shape and size. Lajoolie. Sergeant Aarhus. Uclod. The last blob had no figure visible inside, but I did not doubt it contained Nimbus and his child.
Somehow my friends had been taken by surprise. They had been encased in guck, caught like mosquitoes landing on pine gum. If they were trying to struggle free, I could not see any evidence of it—they seemed frozen in place, helplessly stuck as the blobs rolled across the floor and stopped in a ragged line behind Immu’s back.
“You see?” Immu said. “You’re all alone.” She glanced toward Festina. My friend had toppled onto her knees and was doubled over now, her head almost touching the floor. Her whole face was approaching the port-wine color of the birthmark on her cheek.
“I won’t let your precious friend die,” Immu told me in a raspy smirk. “I’d never do anything so non-sentient. But I’ll let her pass out before I call off the nanites in her throat. And,” Immu continued, raising the sharp end of her tail above Festina’s head, “once she’s unconscious, I won’t have trouble cutting off her ears…lopping a few fingers…scooping out an eye…unless you put Esticus down. As long as I don’t actually kill this human, the League of Peoples won’t stop me.”
“Then the League will not stop me,” I said, “from ripping off parts of Esticus…which I shall certainly do if you hurt Festina.” I gave the Shaddill in my arms another fierce shake.
“Not so fast,” Immu snapped. “You don’t know a thing about our anatomy. You don’t know what’s safe to rip off and what could be lethal. For all you know, Esticus might die from losing a single claw.”
“I do not believe he could be so frail.”
“But you don’t know,” Immu replied. “As for me, I’m thoroughly familiar with Homo sapiens physiology.” She swung her tail idly toward Festina; my friend grabbed at it weakly but missed. “I know what will and won’t cause fatal bleeding,” Immu continued. “I know which human body parts are expendable. But if you so much as break one of Esticus’s bones without knowing what you’re doing, that’s callous disregard for the possibility you might do lethal damage. Not a sentient attitude, Oar—the League will kill you on the spot.”
“For breaking a finger? When you are threatening to pluck out Festina’s eye?”
“I’m threatening to do something I know won’t kill her. You, on the other hand, would be taking a blind risk with someone else’s life. That is definitely non-sentient. Let my mate go before you get hurt.”
Esticus whispered, “Yes, please, yes, please, yes, please…”
I stared at the whimpering beetle as he dangled in front of me…and suddenly I became furious. For five thousand years, these cowardly creatures had not hesitated to violate entire cultures, to kidnap and imprison individuals who interfered with their plans, to coerce whole species into insipid decadence, and to give people Tired Brains—yet Immu dared suggest I should be executed if I snapped off somebody’s claw? My best friend was choking in front of me. My other friends were enveloped in gooey string, and who knew how well they could breathe inside those cocoons? The Shaddills wished to jelly me against my will, rather than take the slightest personal risk in pursuit of transcendence; yet I was the wicked one who might be punished?
Enough of this nonsense. I would command the Shaddill to remove the nanites from Festina’s windpipe, to release my friends and leave us alone…or else I would grab Esticus’s trembling mandibles and rip them right off his face. It was ridiculous for Immu to claim she could hurt my friends with impunity, but the League would not permit me to hit back.
Slowly, I lowered Esticus until his feet touched the ground. Perhaps Immu thought I was preparing to let her husband go…but in my mind’s eye, I pictured punching the little brown Shaddill in the nose, smashing the mandibles all around his muzzle, hearing the crack of bones as they shattered under my fist.
And yet…and yet…
How did I know I would not kill the hateful fur-beetle? Perhaps smashing his mandibles would do lethal damage. And for all that I was blazing with righteous indignation, I did not wish to murder shaky wee Esticus. The League would then murder me…and I did not care to die so stupidly.
Was there anything I could do to vent my wrath, yet not kill a weak Shaddill one?
Yes.
Changing my grip on Esticus’s wrists, I whirled him around by the arms and slung him into the fountain.
Splash
I did not throw the furry alien, but swung him like an ax: holding his arms and sweeping him across the pool’s surface so that he scooped up a great sloosh of honey that flew in a frothy tsunami. It was fortunate I did not get any splashes on me…but I was wearing my Explorer jacket, and the few drops of spatter that came my way hit fabric instead of skin.
Neither Immu nor
Esticus fared so luckily. I had aimed the husband perfectly at the wife—the thick wave of crimson scooped up by Esticus hit Immu full in the face, drenching her head and all down her front. She squealed in terror and jumped backward, trying to wipe honey from her fur; she squealed again when she realized she now had the liquid on her hands. Her eyes bulged horrified as she stared at her fingers…for as she watched, one of her claws melted into soft purple and fell plop to the floor.
Esticus was no better. From the waist down, he was soaked in honey; and his pelt had begun to bubble, sloughing off fur as each little hair dissolved into goo. The skin underneath was already turning puffy. I let him fall to the floor and leapt back to make sure I did not get the honey on me. He staggered to his feet almost immediately…but the dirt where he had landed was covered with a glossy slick of purple and the part of his body that had touched the ground looked like its hair and skin had been shaved off clean.
Howling, “Help me!” he turned to Immu; but his wife was in no condition to help anyone. Her entire head was turning purple—all but those bulging eyes, because she had blinked them shut just before the Blood Honey struck her. Now her eyelids were gone, turned into goo that slid off her eyeballs and slurped into the general morass of her face. Her cheeks dripped onto her chest; her forehead was slumping into a great overhanging brow that would soon flop down and cover those raw exposed eyes.
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