The Pinnacle

by Gary Moreau

  Casey turned with frustration to his companions. “Don’t any of you have anything to say?”

  Yamaguchi’s hand was still around Slater’s neck. Slater glared at Casey with hard anger on his face, as if he blamed Casey for their current crisis, but said nothing.

  Next Casey turned to Lisa; her gaze was directed at her feet and her shoulders were shaking in silent sobs. Near her, Protonov, remained motionless in his catatonic stare. Looking past the alien, he could see Olson, rolled into a tight ball, face against the wall.

  “Who are the Masters?” Yamaguchi asked.

  “A Master comes. After the Mother rewards you, I will return. You will know much more. You will understand. The Master comes.”

  There was a wet, smacking sound, followed by the appearance of a pearly-white cone that protruded through the wall near the curled form of Olson. The cone grew in length until the slug-like creature slid completely through the wall and slithered onto the green floor. Casey stared at it with shocked fascination. It was about half the size of a human, but there was no doubt; it was a bigger version of the worm that he had killed inside the cryo-capsule. The tendrils were still present, but instead of ending in a cup, they terminated in fine filaments that waved and undulated endlessly. It was a Master.

  Casey felt his revulsion slipping helplessly away and, in its place, radiant warmth flushed across his skin and penetrated his being, bringing peace and contentment. He experienced unadulterated, overwhelming love, but he wasn’t drawn toward the object of his love; instead, his legs carried him toward the green wall. His face bent toward the wall and a mouth-like hole smacked open, wet and seductive, urging him to kiss it. His tongue began extending toward the moist mouth but, at the last second, his innate perversity arose. He raised his hand and, instead of his tongue, he jammed his thumb into the hole. The pain was an instantaneous burning. It was so intense that he screamed. His arm felt as if was being probed by a thousand red-hot needles, a thousand stings from a wasp, and then his arm went dead, without feeling or strength. He groaned and collapsed onto the green floor.

  After a few minutes he was aware of other moans, but these were the sounds of immodest ecstasy, muted by fettered tongues. He opened his eyes. The Master had gone. He focused on Olson, Protonov and Lisa, who were writhing with sensual rapture while they kissed the Mother. The blue alien was also face first against the wall, its distal arms folded back over the blade-like projection of its lower elbows, gurgling its version of orgasmic satiation.

  Casey pushed himself up with his good arm and anxiously looked to where Yamaguchi had been standing. Casey smiled. The giant was standing near Salter, but no longer had his hand around Slater’s neck. Their eyes met. Yamaguchi’s eyes were clear as he maintained a state of pure observation.

  Surprisingly, Slater too had not moved. His mouth was turned down in disgust as he watched the others. For the first time, Casey felt gratified by Slater’s lack of humanity. Love was not what motivated the man, nor was it sensuality; it was power. He probably didn’t even have the capacity for love.

  Casey heard the “smack” of suction being broken and turned back to look at those who had been in communion with the alien Mother. Lisa turned, no longer concerned about her appearance. She had an idiotic smile on her face and eyes that were unfocused. She slid down to lean against the wall, followed by the languid movements of Olson and Protonov.

  The blue alien lay supine on the floor. Its unblinking eyes dulled by a membrane, its breath whispering in and out of its carnivorous smile that wasn’t a smile at all.

  Chapter 41

  Casey was pleased with himself for having resisted, but the sharp burr of hunger began to demand attention. He pushed the gnawing in his gut from his mind when the worm returned. He watched while the worm used its delicate appearing tentacles to grasp the head of the blue alien. Then it pushed its pointed rear into the floor, pulling the shark-faced alien along with it. They disappeared without a ripple.

  Lisa began to stir, and then Olson and Protonov. They crawled the short distance to one another and wrapped their arms and legs around each other as if they would merge into one being, if it were at all possible. Then they became motionless, a tangled mass of entwined limbs and bodies, and seemed to be asleep or in a stupor.

  The hunger became terrible. It peaked with a feeling of knife-like colic, combined with acidic burning. Casey began rhythmically pounding the resilient floor with his fist, but then the pain began to subside. It didn’t disappear, but it did recede to a level that allowed him the freedom to think. With an intense prickly sensation, the strength returned to his paralyzed arm and he began flexing his fingers.

  Yamaguchi walked over and sat down next to Casey, crossing his legs as he had seen Casey do so many times in the past. His face was blank, but his eyes were bright.

  “You know, my friend,” Casey said, “my mom always told me it was bad manners to turn down a gift.”

  No one laughed; no one smiled.

  Casey looked back and forth at his two remaining companions, thankful that he wasn’t the only one who had been able to resist. For all their mastery of biology, Casey thought, the aliens did not fully understand human behavior. But then he thought with dread about his next exposure to the mouths in the wall. The aching hunger was a constant reminder of unfulfilled needs. His body wouldn’t allow him to forget. He thought about the master worm and it triggered a memory.

  “Yamaguchi, do you remember that picture scratched into the arm of the control chair on the bridge?”

  “Yes.”

  Casey shook his head. “How stupid of me. It was a picture of a segmented worm with tentacles ending in filaments, not a ribbed canoe with flowers.”

  “You have answered your question.”

  “Yeah, I guess so. Poor Grace. She must have awakened from cryogenic sleep to find that worms had invaded the ship.” Casey refocused on Yamaguchi. “What did you observe?”

  It was as if he had been waiting for the question. “I observed that we are contained within a living organism, similar to the one that you showed me in the pictures taken on the planet’s surface only far larger, and that this encompassing organism lives in symbiosis with the worm Masters, but it does seem to be a tripartite relationship, with the additional species acting as a link or key to the minds of other species. The Mothers furnish the power, the Masters the brain, and the enslaved species provides the means, the ability to project altered perceptions and the hands to manipulate tools. I observed that the reward of cooperation includes the direct administration of energy, which produces a powerful stimulation of the pleasure area of the brain as well as nutrition. I believe that once a person has been exposed to this stimulant, the need to experience it again becomes the primary purpose in life, supplanting all learned ethical codes, the instinct for self-preservation, and the instinct for species preservation.”

  Casey nodded. “Impressive.” And then asked, “Are you hungry?”

  “I am aware of the internal signals that would be consistent with hunger, if I were still fully human,” Yamaguchi said.

  “So, you’re hungry, right?”

  Yamaguchi did not elaborate further, or even nod.

  Casey shrugged, and then asked, “Did you observe anything else?”

  “Yes. I observed that the master worm provided the stimulus that caused the mother creature to allow passage.”

  Casey leaned forward so he could see Slater. “What about you, Slater?”

  “I hate them.” Slater said. “They stole my people. My people! They had no right. They’ve lumped me together with the rest of you,” he said with disgust in his voice. “I am the leader.”

  Casey suppressed his first response and instead said, “If you hate them so much, then get with it. If you observed something helpful, share it. Maybe we can use it.”

  Slater stared morosely at Casey, but said nothing.

  “Slater, don’t you get it?”

  He remained silent so Casey continued. “T
his abomination of Mother and Masters has destroyed at least a hundred species. It is likely that most of these species were technologically advanced far beyond us. They will consume the humans who inhabit that planet we saw and sooner or later they’ll discover…well, enough said. We all know what Jack Nichols did.”

  Slater finally spoke. “Don’t speak that name in my presence. He treated me like dirt. Mitchell Mason told me the real truth. It was Mitchell’s plan all along. Nichols only carried it out and then took the credit. Nichols was no hero. He was only a tool.”

  “My God, you are––oh, what the hell. Is that all you have to say? Don’t you have anything useful to add?” Casey asked.

  Slater didn’t reply.

  They sat in silence until Casey spoke again. “Yamaguchi, I’m not sure I can resist another exposure to those mouths. If we don’t find a solution soon, I’m afraid I’m going to lose my ability to question and observe. Do you understand?”

  “I understand, but you are the Teacher. You must take the observations and ask the right question.”

  “I’m no teacher. I’m a doctor.”

  “No,” Yamaguchi responded, “you are the Teacher.”

  Casey looked into himself and saw nothing special. How has this responsibility fallen on me? he wondered. It’s not fair. Fair, that’s a laugh. Fair doesn’t exist. That triggered a memory from his time as a guardian. Something about everything being fair. It was an odd memory but he couldn’t hold on to it. He reclined and let his full weight rest on the soft, warm skin of the Mother, vaguely afraid that a mouth would open under him, or a worm would poke its snout through.

  He let his mind wander, trying to escape the hunger pain that demanded his attention. He couldn’t let hunger become his primary focus or he’d become as useless as that bundle of bodies on the other side of the room. He remembered Earth and days of optimistic expectation. He remembered his joy at being selected for the role of guardian and remembered Dr. Marta and Britty, both long dead. Britty, the recent experience, real or not, had honed the edge of his longing for her until it was razor sharp. If only he had made love to her those many years ago. He would never have left her, never have left Earth.

  “Yamaguchi, how did you break that spell and bring us back? I remember seeing you draw that big sword and then…I don’t know. What did you do?”

  “It was not real.”

  Casey suppressed his hideous imaginings. It was not real. His thoughts turned to Eden and the only comfort it had held for him, his little puppy, Marta. This pain also was fresh, not yet blurred by time. He thought about that fateful day when he had willfully killed Sabine and then focused on the memory of killing a worm.

  His mind chewed on that memory. He had succeeded in killing a worm. If he could do it once, perhaps he could do it again. Would that be helpful? It was difficult to see how it could make things worse. But, back then he had a tool, a weapon, and now he had nothing. Not even Yamaguchi could penetrate that laser-resistant hide. Still, it is possible that the vulnerable spot persisted into maturity. He remembered the easy penetration of the tentacle hole and catching the blade in a crevice that allowed the beast to be bisected. Sentient, yes, but still a beast to Casey’s way of thinking. He felt no pangs of guilt about that murder.

  He remembered the suddenness of the transition from being trapped in the land-shaper to nothing. He had thought he was somehow immune to the planet but they had been able to reach into him, into everyone, and turn them off. That and his recent fantasy trip to the beach probably required Wheeler as the conduit to their brains. Wheeler, the shark-faced alien with its strange arms. He wondered what the alien had looked like before it had undergone “esthetic” reconstruction. Did it originally have knife-like blades sticking out all over it? Did it have purple feathers? Did it cover its elbows because of some ancient instinctive behavior? That last thought clung to his mind to the exclusion of all others.

  Chapter 42

  Casey’s thoughts fell into place. He wanted to speak of it with Yamaguchi, but was worried the Mother would overhear them. He suspected it made little difference if he yelled or whispered, but felt an irresistible desire for secrecy, even if it was only cosmetic. He sat and mulled over his idea. It was fraught with unpredictables, but even death would be preferable to living only for a kiss from the Mother. At least it would be a cleansing act.

  He sat up and motioned for Yamaguchi to come closer. Yamaguchi scooted over and bent his head near Casey. Casey cupped his hand to funnel his whispers into the man’s exposed auditory canal. When he had finished, he pulled back and studied Yamaguchi’s face for a reaction.

  Yamaguchi’s face remained blank for a moment and then it transformed as Casey had never seen it before. His tiny-toothed smile spread across his face and his eyes sparkled. Then he began to laugh, it was a high-pitched tittering, such a tiny sound coming from such a big body. The strangeness of seeing Yamaguchi laugh struck Casey as quite funny and he joined his friend in laughter. Hope brought cheer.

  It only lasted for a moment, but it felt wonderful. Then Yamaguchi returned to his sober face, but not completely. Casey could see traces of a smile at the corners of his mouth.

  “So,” Yamaguchi said, “you believe the Mother is more of an instinctual creature than a critically thinking entity.”

  “I certainly hope so.”

  Yamaguchi bowed his head to Casey. “You are the One. Teacher, you have asked the right questions and then answered them. It is an honor.” He placed his forehead on the soft, green floor at Casey’s feet.

  Casey immediately reached down and pulled Yamaguchi’s head up. “Please, my friend, let’s not tempt fate. All we need is an unexpected kiss from the Mother.”

  Yamaguchi rolled back and sat on his legs. His face looked truly inscrutable again, but Casey knew, beneath that bland exterior, the man was processing information, formulating details. He had great confidence in Yamaguchi.

  “Teacher, it seems unjust that the least worthy will survive.”

  Casey motioned with his hand and Yamaguchi bent forward to hear his whispered answer. “You need have no concern on that topic. We are counting on his self-serving egocentrism. It’s part of what’ll make the plan work. He’ll believe that his value will soar, that he’ll have power, but he will not. He’ll be ostracized and isolated and, ultimately, he’ll starve to death. As a physician, I can assure you that the changes in our bodies are far more than cosmetic. He will suffer and then he will die.”

  Yamaguchi sat back and nodded. “Thank you, my teacher. I am ready.”

  “Do you know which direction to go?” Casey asked.

  “Yes. I observed when we returned to the Mother from the outside.”

  Casey held out his hands and Yamaguchi gently engulfed them in his own giant hands and then leaned forward to kiss Casey’s wrist. The heat of that kiss spread throughout Casey’s body and mind. All the pain melted away, leaving a glowing core of fulfillment and love.

  “Queers,” Slater snarled.

  Casey released Yamaguchi’s hands to look in Slater’s direction.

  Slater deepened the scowl that hovered ever ready on his face. “What bullshit,” he snapped. “Gossiping like two old women. I’m sure you’re talking about me. If you think I’ll stoop to ask you what you’ve been whispering and laughing about, you’re mistaken. I could care less.”

  “Slater,” Casey said, “the only thing I’m expecting from you is your pathologic narcissism, nothing more. Would you be interested in escape and survival?”

  Slater’s eyes narrowed. “What do you have in mind?”

  “Come here and I’ll tell you,” Casey said.

  “No, you come here.”

  Casey let out a long breath and slid over to sit next to him. He cupped his hand and whispered his plan into Slater’s ear hole. When he had finished, Slater pushed him away, causing him to lose his balance and fall onto the floor. He quickly scrambled to his knees.

  Slater laughed at Casey’s discomfort, bu
t his head was up. His face had more tone. The fantasy of control was resurrecting itself within him. He looked to Yamaguchi.

  “What makes you think you have the ability to fulfill your part?” Slater asked.

  Yamaguchi answered Slater’s doubt with his usual blank stare, forcing Casey to respond in his stead.

  “Slater, I was surprised when I found mercenaries among the colonists, but you evidently were not.”

  Slater did not deny the statement.

  Casey continued. “What I’ve always found is that when a person stumbles onto a secret, there are probably others. Would you be surprised if I told you that within the secrets that you were privy to, there were yet other secrets?”

  Slater shrugged, as if such a statement had no relevance to a man like him.

  “Do you think the entire WSA Central Committee trusted you, and the rest of us, to the point that they wouldn’t provide a failsafe to prevent our return to Earth?”

  Slater still said nothing, but sat straighter and stared off across the room, not meeting Casey’s eyes.

  “Yamaguchi knows how to overload the star engine. With your help, it can be done.”

  Still Slater said nothing.

  After a few moments, Casey spoke again. “Are you in?”

  Slater’s face was as unreadable as Yamaguchi’s. “I’m in.”

  Casey didn’t trust him and most likely they would fail. There was too much chance involved; yet, it was worth a try. As the thrill of formulating a plan faded, doubt worked its way through the meager confidence Casey had managed to muster. His hunger grew and came to the forefront of his consciousness. It was getting worse. He observed Yamaguchi, sitting motionless; and then Slater, who looked like a man scheming if ever a man did. Slater was tough and determined; Casey was willing to grant him that.

  Time seemed to creep by. Casey turned his attention to Lisa and the others, who had slowly returned to a wakeful state. They appeared refreshed and happy, but they didn’t speak, not among themselves or to those who had not partaken. They sat in a circle and held hands, not losing contact with one another for even a moment.