The Pinnacle

by Gary Moreau

  Casey was beginning to despair. He felt his plan was doomed to failure even before it had a chance to be tried. Slater was beginning to fidget, snapping his fingers and jiggling his legs. Yamaguchi remained as he was. Casey would have preferred to talk, but there was nothing more to be said. Yamaguchi would be proud of me, Casey thought.

  Then Casey saw the white cone that was the snout of a worm poke its way through the wall. As the worm slithered into the room, Casey saw the blue head and then the body of the alien being towed into the chamber. Once fully in the room, the alien stood and flipped his lower arms back over his elbows. The worm continued on its way; its snout penetrated the floor and it disappeared.

  Casey stood and walked toward the blue alien. Meanwhile, Yamaguchi began easing along the wall of the oval chamber.

  “I need to speak with a Master,” Casey said.

  The alien’s big, black eyes centered on the human that stood before it. “You can speak with me. I am the Master’s ears,” the alien said.

  Casey shook his head. “No. It’s important. I want to speak with a Master present. I know something about humans that the Masters do not. I know how the immature Master was killed on the birth world and I know how to prevent it, but I demand that a Master be present.”

  The alien continued to look at Casey, his fixed, shark-like smile spread widely across his deep-blue face, a face that was totally unintelligible to Casey.

  Slater remained where he was, sitting on the floor at the far end of the room. Yamaguchi had worked his way around until he was in back of the creature. The other humans stared at the alien with silly smiles and open adoration.

  The alien remained still. Standing this close, Casey could detect a faint fragrance, like jasmine, on the creature’s breath, and he could clearly see the nictitating membranes occasionally flash across the creature’s over-sized eyes.

  The alien spoke. “The Master will return.”

  Those were the words that Casey and Yamaguchi had been waiting for. Yamaguchi took a quick step forward and, as Casey grabbed the creature’s smooth, lower arms, Yamaguchi grasped the creature’s head and began forcing it back. Casey was nearly lifted off the floor by the alien’s surprising strength. Then the alien whipped its leg up and back with an unbelievable range of motion in its hip and knee joints, striking Yamaguchi in the chest, but the force was inadequate to dislodge the giant man. The creature’s strength seemed to waver for a moment and Yamaguchi jerked the creature’s neck again. This time there was an audible “crack” and the creature collapsed to the floor.

  The three possessed humans began to walk forward, still holding hands, eyes wide with shock. Yamaguchi swung a kick at them and sent them sprawling to the floor, still holding onto one another. Then he planted his foot on the creature’s chest and pulled until the veins bulged on his forehead. Suddenly, the joint gave and Yamaguchi was left holding the creature’s lower arm, topped by a nasty looking blade. The wound on the creature began to ooze a red liquid that looked like human blood.

  Casey backed away, pivoting as he looked at the walls, ceiling and floor, searching for the first sign of an entering worm. Slater was standing by this time, also turning as he, too, searched the walls. Meanwhile the Lisa-Protonov-Olson abomination wailed an eerie cry and held each other closely.

  “Behind you!” Casey said urgently.

  Yamaguchi turned. The snout of a worm appeared and then took shape as it entered the room. As soon as it was fully through the wall, Yamaguchi swung the sickle-like elbow into the base of a tentacle; it pierced the creature with ease. The worm began to curl away, emitting a shrill cry that made it difficult to think and made Casey’s teeth chatter with pain, but Yamaguchi caught the “blade” in the hole and pulled with all his weight. A gash appeared between two of the worm’s segments and began to seep thick, brownish slurry. Yamaguchi kicked the creature over and continued to pull the “blade” circumferentially while the creature tried to squirm away. The worm reached toward Yamaguchi with its other tentacles, trying to grasp him, but he swayed first one-way and then another, avoiding their touch.

  It was too late for the worm. Yamaguchi completed his cut and then jammed the blade-tipped arm deep into the creature’s soft interior. He twisted it and raked it back and forth. The piercing scream stopped. The bisected worm lay still, brownish fluid dripping from both halves, filling the room with a musty odor.

  There was not going to be much time. The “floor” began undulating with recognition as the worm’s life fluid leaked onto it. Yamaguchi did not pause, but immediately began scooping out the soft interior of one-half of the worm, while Casey and Slater worked on cleaning out the other half. As Casey reached in and pulled out tissue, he could not help but notice that about a third of the worm consisted of neural tissue, a fantastic amount for a creature this size. This was definitely the murder of an intellectually superior, sapient being, but Casey didn’t pause to consider the implications. He continued to dig out the shell of the worm as quickly as his hands could move.

  While his hands flashed in front of his face, his mind raced along the possibilities. He was hoping that the death of the blue alien would limit the Master and Mother’s ability to intervene directly in a human’s perception or turn them off altogether, but there was no proof to support that theory; it was more of a hope. Casey doubted that it would take long for the Masters to turn the Lisa-Protonov-Olson abomination into a much more effective mind tool than the indigo alien had been. However, for now, the transformed humans were hugging each other in a tangled mass on the floor. If they had been attuned to the Masters and Mother by that one exposure, then they would have to be killed as well, assuming of course that any alteration of perception proceeded at a leisurely rate. There were just too many “ifs”. Casey focused on the messy job before him.

  The inside of the worm’s shell was moist and warm, and was covered by interlacing muscles that had provided movement. When Casey took a moment to glance toward the transformed humans, his heart missed a few beats. It felt like a series of “gulps” deep in his chest. Two new snouts were growing from the green surface of the floor.

  “Worms!” Casey yelled and stepped back from the nearly empty shell. He managed to maintain his balance on a floor that was rippling beneath the muddy-brown gore.

  Slater hesitated, eyes fixed on the worms, but Yamaguchi didn’t pause. He picked up the lightweight cone-shaped shell and began pushing it against the far wall, snout first. The wall resisted for only a moment and then began to allow penetration by the worm shell.

  “Get going, Slater!” Casey ordered as he dredged the alien’s dismembered arm out of the muck. He stood near the worm snouts, ready for the first tentacle spot to appear. When the tendril passed the plane of the floor, Casey swung the grisly ax and penetrated the worm, causing it to screech its mental cry and partially withdraw. Then the worms’ snouts became motionless, neither retreating, nor advancing. They were two innocent appearing white cones on the pale-green floor.

  Casey risked a glance at Yamaguchi, who was nearly ready to make the final push to whatever lay beyond. Yamaguchi turned to meet Casey’s eyes. He was smiling his pebbly smile, as his rumbling voice spoke. “Good-bye my Teacher, my friend.”

  “Good-bye, friend,” Casey answered, and then reluctantly forced himself to return his attention to the worms and began searching the surfaces of the chamber for new penetrations.

  Slater was also pushing his half of the worm shell through the wall, but he did not divert his attention to either Yamaguchi or Casey. When Casey next turned his attention to the wall, they were both gone, without a sign to mark their exit.

  Casey was alone, standing with his weapon raised above the worms, with only the wailing of the perverted half-humans for company. He needed to be the parasite within the parasite. It was a grim but accurate portrayal. He needed to buy his partners some time.

  It wasn’t fair, Casey thought to himself. He would only know if they failed, not if they succeeded. If Yamaguch
i guessed wrong and led Slater in the wrong direction, they would penetrate into the vacuum of space. They would boil and bloat. The thought touched a memory, but Casey didn’t have time to follow it.

  There were so many incalculables. If they failed to find an airlock that would allow them to enter the Pinnacle before they were discovered and neutralized, then all would be for nothing.

  How much time? Casey wondered. Another unknown.

  The worms remained as they had been, neither entering the chamber nor disappearing beneath its surface. At least I can still think and perceive, Casey thought, unless all this is an illusion. Is this all simply a reflection of what I expect? Am I actually sitting on the floor and staring at nothing? He glanced over at the alien; its vivid blue coloring had paled in death. Its face was still filled by the shark-smile, but its eyes were cloudy and dull. Its death marked the extinction of its species.

  The minutes passed, each one longer than the one before. Casey surmised that this was a totally unexpected development, perhaps a unique event for the Masters and Mother. Perhaps they had never encountered a species still so violent, still so close to their primitive roots that the preservation of the species was a stronger motivation than self-preservation. Casey became giddy with the possibility of success, but he knew it wouldn’t be much longer before the Masters formulated a solution. The floor began to soften under Casey’s feet.

  He quickly high-stepped over to the dead alien and stood on to its back. When he glanced back across the room he saw that the worm snouts had disappeared. The Lisa-Protonov-Olson complex was lying face down on the floor, motionless as they sank into it. To Casey they looked dead.

  The brief burst of confidence deserted him. Please, he thought, Yamaguchi, at least you must succeed. Destroy us cleanly.

  A strong ripple swept across the floor and a wave front passed along the ceiling and walls. It caused him to lose his balance and he slipped to his knees, but he quickly regained his feet.

  “The Pinnacle has broken free!” Casey yelled, even though there was no one to hear him. It seemed right somehow to speak out loud. All was as it should be. The fail-safe had not failed. He had finally succeeded as guardian. Although he couldn’t justify it, even to himself, he still truly loved them. They were his children and he had set them free. He was ready. For him, the circle was finally complete. There was nothing more he could do for the sleeping colonists; their fate was in Yamaguchi and Slater’s hands now.

  Casey glanced over at Lisa-Protonov-Olson, but all that remained of them was an oval island that marked each of their backs as the green floor continued to swallow them whole. Casey’s grotesque perch was also nearly completely covered. Soon the Mother would begin to swallow Casey as well. He thought about Yamaguchi. He still had unlimited confidence in the man, in his friend.

  He was alone as the floor eked upward. First, it covered his ankles, then his calves and, as the warmth of the resilient but inescapable grip of the Mother hugged his thighs, Casey began sinking faster. He continued to exist so he knew that Yamaguchi had not yet succeeded. The Mother began to crawl its way up Casey’s abdomen and back and he raised his arms, trying to keep them free as long as possible, still holding the blade-tipped arm of the alien. Please, my friend, do it!

  Then, his current reality ceased to exist.

  Chapter 43

  Aboard the starship Pinnacle, Slater sat in the control chair on the bridge with his left forearm resting on a scratched picture that could have been a canoe with flowers, but wasn’t. The instruments he was monitoring recorded a brief, but very intense blast in deep space. It was a miniature nova. Yamaguchi had succeeded in bringing the star-engine to critical. Slater thought only briefly about Casey, Yamaguchi, and the other three, and then dismissed them from his mind. They weren’t important.

  The improvements the aliens had made in the Pinnacle’s propulsion unit were remarkable. The starship was well on its way along the final leg of its long delayed journey. Its cargo of humans was oblivious and timeless in their sleep, a contingent of ancient humans who had time traveled to the distant future.

  When the Pinnacle approached communication range of the planetary system, Slater heard a human voice come over his scanner. The scanner locked on the beam and he listened. It was definitely a human voice, although the language was unknown. He maneuvered the Pinnacle into an orbit that was near the planet’s odd, egg-shaped moon. He would wait for them to come to him. He was not about to risk destruction. Even though a terrible, painful hunger demanded food, he was strong. He could wait.

  He swiveled in the control chair and stared across the bridge, down the softly glowing hall of sleep. He was pleased. Although the hunger was agonizing, he smiled with satisfaction. He was certain that a planet full of technicians and scientists would be able to find a way to satisfy his appetite. He was important and would be the top priority of an entire planet. He had information that would translate into immediate power. These thoughts filled his mind and he felt better. He had no doubts about himself, or his place in the universe.

  What Slater did not realize was that his reality did not correspond in the least to the ultimate and unknowable reality. If he had the benefit of a teacher and had the capacity to learn, he would’ve understood that this failure would bring unendurable suffering and, ultimately, his death.

  Epilogue

  The tremendous flash of the miniature nova from beyond the distant gas giant had lit the night sky of the third planet from the yellow star. It was a burst of daylight in the dead of night and caused some citizens to fear and others to wonder, but then it faded, as quickly as it had blossomed.

  The Warden witnessed this event from the planet’s surface. Although not appreciated at the time, the flash signaled a shift in reality; it would not be long before his perception of reality, and that of the entire planet, would be brought into a slightly better alignment with the reality of the great unknowable.

  The Guardian, the One, the Teacher of Reality had made his final contribution to those he loved and his fate, along with that of his friend, Yamaguchi, could not be known by those who still rode the peak of their own personal waves. What would Casey and Yamaguchi find when their waves settled into the sea of reality? The sea is vast. It has no shores. Who can say what lies beneath?

  About the Author

  Gary Moreau grew up in a small town in Iowa called Estherville. He discovered science fiction in the fifth grade, beginning with a book by Alan E. Nourse entitled Star Surgeon.

  He graduated from medical school at the University of Iowa and then completed a residency in emergency medicine at Los Angeles County/USC Medical Center. Following his training, he practiced emergency medicine at Long Beach Memorial Medical Center.

  It is not likely that he became a physician because of Nourse’s book, but it was the beginning of a lifelong love of science fiction. His plans for the future include a focus on his passion for storytelling. Judas Gene is a prequel to Almost Human (published in 2001 by Yard Dog Press).

  He and his wife Gloria have two daughters, two sons-in-law, and five grandchildren. His greatest joys in life include family, friends, writing, art, and travel.

  About the Cover Artist

  Artist Mitchell Davidson Bentley spent the last twenty years moving physically from place to place and artistically from traditional oils to cyber compositions. Trained in the traditional medium of oil by his mother, and inspired by his grandfather’s love of science fiction, Bentley began his career as a full-time science fiction artist in 1989 from his home base in Tulsa.

  While actively involved in the science fiction art world, Bentley also moved from Tulsa to Austin to Central Pennsylvania where his search for knowledge earned him bachelors and masters degrees from Penn State University. Over the same period of time, Bentley shifted from the more traditional oil painting to airbrushed acrylics, and since 2004 has been working exclusively in electronic media.

  As the Creative Consultant of Atomic Fly Studios, Bentley produces c
over art, marketing materials and Web sites while he continues to produce quality 2D artwork marketed through the AFS Web site and at science fiction conventions across the United States.

  Bentley has lectured at universities, worked in film (also as a part-time actor), edited publications and served as Artist Guest of Honor at more than a dozen science fiction conventions. He has also earned over 35 awards, and is a lifetime member of the Association of Science Fiction and Fantasy Artists.

  He currently resides in Harrisburg, PA with his partner Cathie McCormick and their spoiled cats, Mr. Spike, Zöe and Drucilla.

  Bentley’s Web address is: www.atomicflystudios.com.