The Worm That Wasn't

by Mike Maddox

  As the sky turned from dark blue to black, the last ray of sunlight caught an aircraft, high overhead. It turned deep silver, bright white like a pearl, and then, as darkness claimed even the highest reaches, it vanished altogether, save the odd twinkling of navigational lights.

  Inside her house Leah sat in the kitchen, her hands folded on her lap. She was dressed in dark clothes, and had a scarf pulled tight around her head. On the table was a satchel and some snap lights, small disposable emergency lights she had taken from work. Gim would be here any second. She took a book out of the satchel and flicked though it, returning to the page which showed the creature she had glimpsed the other night. She had read it fifty times since that night and knew most of it by heart.

  Soft Worm. Harmless, highly prized. She slipped her father's book back into her bag anyway.

  She had spent the evening at her mother's bedside. There had been no change in her condition, which meant that she was not getting any worse at least. But she was getting no better. Those people who had been brought in to the hospital that first week, like her mother, had either died after a couple of days, or had stabilised and were now just lying there. It seemed that the sickness either claimed you outright, or else left you sat there. In the larder.

  The thought slapped her across her face. Larder? What a strange thought. It was like the disease was eating them, but it was full for the moment, and so had left the other sick people alone while it slept off its feast.

  There was a knock at the door.

  "You ready, then?" It was Gim, a large bag slung over his shoulder. Leah nodded and slipped outside, pulling the door behind her.

  "I take it the patrols haven't seen you?" she whispered, her eyes darting about the deserted night time street.

  "There were loads down by the inn, but they've all gathered together for something. I think it's a works party. There'll be speeches, more speeches, and some poor bugger will end up with a plaque to hang on his wall telling the whole world how he was stuck in the same job for most of his adult life."

  "Come on then. Let's do it. Where's Rendolph?"

  "I'm here," said Rendolph, slipping in behind Gim. "Sure you want to go through with this?"

  "No," said Leah. "But we'll do it anyway. You just make sure that no one takes the ladder away while we're down there."

  The three friends made their way along the street, cautiously trying to keep to the shadows and doorways as much as they could. They passed by the entrance to the market square, looking this way and that for any sign of Captain Krillan's militiamen, but there was neither sight nor sound of them.

  Gim hosted the bag higher up his shoulder.

  "You think this is a good idea?"

  "What?" said Rendolph. "No, of course I'm not sure. I think this is lunacy, and I think you're a madman for agreeing to go with her."

  They sprinted across the square, taking refuge by the side of the well.

  Gim pulled a wire ladder from his bag and began to feed it down into the darkness. It fell with a reassuring clatter at the bottom, meaning that the ladder was at least longer than the hole was deep.

  "Who goes first then?"

  Leah took one of the snap lights from her belt and dropped it into the gloom. As it hit the bottom they were able to see the brick walls of the well, and the dry floor. Gim looked at her, quizzically. "I thought we wanted to find this thing, not scare it off."

  "We do. But I don't want anything to scare me off first." Leah looked down into the well. "I'll go first. Come on, before the guards come back."

  "What do we do if they find the ladder?" said Rendolph.

  "I don't know. I suppose they'll either come down after us, or else they'll wait at the top for us. All we can do is hope they don't find us first."

  "Here," said Rendolph. "You'll need this." He passed Gim a small silver hipflask and an earthenware bottle. "Brandy. Just in case they haven't got a bar down there. Drop of cider too. Worst case, you could always knock yourself up a pint of snakebite."

  "Snakebite. That's very funny, that," said Gim, slipping the drink into his bag. "You're a funny man, Rendolph."

  Leah made her way down the ladder. Years of working on the higher branches of the Garden had taught her and Gim to move quickly up and down all manner of ropes and swings, and the pair of them had no real fear of falling.

  Although the worm was supposed to be harmless, facing wild animals was something Leah had little experience of, so she had brought with her a shepherd's crook that had for many years sat above the bar in the tavern. Leah had some vague idea of using it to hold the beast at bay in case it should prove frisky. She also carried, slung over her shoulder, a couple of insecticide pumps, filled with a compound of her own making. A powerful sedative, it was used by vets to put horses to sleep before operating on them. She had made the dose twice as strong. She hoped that if she had to use it, it would be powerful enough to put the beast to sleep without killing it in the process. The compound was fairly straightforward in manufacture, being a mixture of the stamen of two flowers grown in the Garden. Botany students were known to spike each other's drinks with it, sending each other into instant slumber; a practice which had had been frowned on in recent years, although it was known to still continue.

  They reached the bottom and stood there, listening to the echoes of their breathing in the darkness. The well had been dry for many months, but the floor was still wet with soft mud. In front of them was a hole in the wall, three feet high and perfectly round. Gim backed away from it.

  "Is that its burrow? It must have teeth like shovels."

  Leah leaned forward, to closer examine the hole. "It must also be very clever, these walls are constructed from brick." Gim looked at her puzzled. "It's a feeder tunnel, brings water in from the reservoir, wherever that is. It's part of the well system. Come on, our creature must have gone through here, and so that means we're going after it."

  "Hold on, let's send this ahead." Gim said, taking something from his bag. He held up a small mechanical figure of a man, some ten inches high. It was made entirely of brass.

  "You took one of the Pixies from the gates at work?" Leah said, in a mildly disapproving tone.

  Gim smiled. "Might have."

  "That's a sackable offence, straight up."

  "Who's going to sack me? You?" He set the Pixie on the ground and clicked the on switch on its back. A small burst of purple magic swam around its head. Gim took a small pen-shaped instrument from the creature's chest and slid it into his wrist-port. His eyes glowed briefly purple.

  "Hello," squeaked the Pixie, in a mechanical approximation of Gim's voice.

  "Off you go then," said Gim, one eye now closed. He could now see through two sets of eyes. One were his own, the other were the Pixie's, giving him a dizzying view that soon cleared once he and Leah swam out of sight. In his mind he could see and hear all that the Pixie could.

  "Right. We're off."

  "That was good thinking, actually," said Leah. "I'm impressed."

  "We used to use them all the time when we had that trouble with fungal growth in the higher branches. It was safer than sending a botanist up a ladder when you weren't sure it'd take the weight. They're quite easy to use once you get the hang of them," said Gim, promptly walking straight into a wall.

  "I'm sure they are."

  "Just finding my feet. Not as easy as it looks, this. It's alright, just give me a moment." He paused, concentrating. "Right, there's a large chamber twenty feet ahead of us. Nothing there he can see, and he's using IR and sonar. Come on."

  Leah followed him through the darkness, reassured that there was nothing waiting for them. They came out into a large chamber, as Gim had said they would. The Pixie was waiting for them; the tiny LEDs in its eyes blinking in the darkness. Gim wobbled on his feet again as the construct looked at him. "Whoa, there we go again. Look away, little lad, look away."

  The chamber had a high roof suggesting that it had been part of the original reservoir for the v
illage, laid down many years before. Leah massaged her wrist, hoping to check their position with central data, but found only static. They were too far underground already, shielded by the tons of earth and rock above them.

  Gim waited until the Pixie had set off down the tunnel opposite them before attempting to walk again.

  "And you're absolutely certain this is safe?"

  "Nothing's certain in life, Gim. But if my father's books are right, and they do tend to be, then this Soft Worm thing is quite passive. Ugly, but passive." Leah slapped him on the back. "Come on. Let's keep moving."

  Together the two of them followed the mechanical construct into the dark, their footsteps echoing eerily along the narrow wet passage.

  They turned the corner, took one hesitant look behind them, and then disappeared into the blackness.

  Grefno sat in a green leather armchair in the Great Library of the Castle, forty-five feet up, a lamp held in mid-air before him by a swarm of tiny brass butterflies that kept it aloft using their mechanical wings. The platform was a favourite of his, being as it was between the disciplines of science and ethics, a crossroads at the worlds of 'can we?' and 'yes, but should we?' It was bright and airy, and yet musty and secretive enough to appeal to him. He had been coming here to read ever since the Castle's doors were first opened in the heady days following the end of war. It was one of his special places.

  The library was theoretically available via wrist-port to everyone. And yet Grefno preferred to use the books themselves. To feel the crispness of the dry paper, to smell the musty spines of the leather-bound volumes; that was really the only way to truly access the library. It was the mark of a true wizard to take time to actually read the book.

  Grefno was reading a history of diplomatic relations, with special mention of advice on enduring times of hardship and plague. Not exactly light reading, and once or twice he had felt his eyelids droop and his head nod. Were it not for the fact that sitting on a chair forty-five feet up in the air was not necessarily the safest place in the world to be, he may well have fallen asleep completely.

  He looked up from his study to see Niaal, rising towards him on the mechanical stair lift. The circular iron platform took him in ever-higher circles until he was level with the platform where Grefno was sitting. He stepped from the platform neatly, acknowledging his friend with a nod as he dropped an electronic file on Grefno's lap. It was a sheet of plastic that contained an animated 3D image, responding to the touch of Grefno's hand as he manipulated the pictures and information on the page.

  Grefno looked up from the map in shock. "You're sure about this?"

  "I am. I wish that it were not so, my friend, but the facts speak plainly. The other Sages are in agreement with me." Niall sat down beside his friend, pulling a small stool from under a polished wooden table. "There is no cure, Grefno. According to my research, the sickness cannot be stopped. It can only be contained. It is the best we can hope for. Soon it may well be airborne, and from then on we have no hope. Our allies will not aid us, we have no course of action open to us, except escape."

  "And the Mage? What does he say? Has any attempt been made to contact the other Mages on Inan? Surely Ramus-Bey himself must realise that this could soon be sweeping out over the rest of Bethel? This is a global problem. Do they have nothing to say on the subject?"

  Niaal turned away, his eyes on the myriad colours of the book spines arranged along the walls of the library as far as the eye could see.

  "The other Mages have not spoken on the issue yet. It may be that they could find a way out, but while they ponder, our people are sick and dying. We must act and act now." Niaal drew a circle in the air, showing the geographical presentation of the state. "We must sterilise the entire area. The Castle will be forfeit, and the Mage moved to a place of safety. This whole region will be uninhabitable for generations to come, a dead zone."

  "But this is the Garden, this green, fertile crescent is where the produce of four fifths of the entire state's foodstuff comes from. If we lose this, then our people will surely starve. Without the psychoactive plants, then we will be unable to create the necessary magical weaponry to defend ourselves. We are a small nation. We are reliant on the plants from the Garden for our protection." Grefno said.

  "Our neighbours have land, good land to spare. They will not give it to us freely. For the sake of our own survival we must be prepared to take it from them."

  Grefno sat in heavy silence. "There must be another way. We are not without friends, and should give good account of ourselves, but surely it must be in everyone's interest to maintain the stability that has lasted these past fifteen years?"

  Niaal shrugged. "Ever since the collapse of the larger Bethel, individual breakaway republics have been vying for position. There are many smaller nation states that would take advantage of our misfortune. What other choice do we have? Sit here and wait for the disease to eat us all? Grefno, you must know what is happening out there. Our own people in the Castle are no longer safe. How long before our guards go down with it? How long before you or I succumb?"

  Grefno stiffened. "I would give my life ten times over if need be, for my country."

  Niaal faced him squarely, his eyes full of sorrow. "And how long before it takes the Mage, even?"

  Grefno's face froze. It didn't even bear thinking about. He stood up, smoothing his robes. At once his entourage of warriors surrounded, him, gliding down ladders from the platforms where they had been watching in secret while the two Sages talked. Grefno nodded to his friend and began the climb down towards the main staircase. Around him small mechanical gnomes blinked in the dusty light and burrowed back into the bookshelves, ordering and cataloguing as they went. Grefno saw one go, diving into the woodwork, and was reminded of how, as a boy, he had seen a bird chase a worm in his garden. He paused, quite taken aback by the sudden unexpected memory. He had been four or five, and had been playing at being a farmer. He had dug a section of dry earth under the apple tree, and made furrows with a spoon. He had deposited breakfast cereal into the rows, and was about to water it in the hope that it would grow. His brother had come out of the kitchen and laughed at him cruelly, but he was adamant that the cereal would grow, when he saw the bird fly down and take the worm.

  Grefno paused, suddenly lost in the memory. As a Sage,. he was so immersed in the pharmacological tools at his disposal that his subconscious would, from time to time, become open to influences and patterns that others wouldn't so readily see. What was it telling him? Was his brother connected in some way?

  Grefno's brother had joined the navy as a youth and had risen to the rank of admiral before retiring. He was now living in the mountains, surrounded by his grandchildren, who adored him and believed him to be a great conjuror.

  Or the bird. What if the sickness was avian in origin? How in the fifty-nine hells would you contain a virus that was spread by migrating wildfowl? It didn't bear thinking about.

  Clearly, in his mind, he still saw it. The bird chasing the worm.

  Grefno blinked twice, and the image was gone.

  Captain Krillan came out of the hut by the roadside and looked up at the sky. It was cold and there was a faint chill coming from the east. He drew his collar tighter. Lights approached along the road and he felt a rush of professional satisfaction as the transport was challenged by his militiamen. It was a military vehicle, regular infantry. At once Krillan felt his hackles rise. They always looked down on his men as hobbyists, amateurs, never realising the worth in what they did.

  The militiamen saluted as a tall figure emerged from the transport. Krillan snapped to attention.

  "General Vale! What an unexpected pleasure!"

  "It's the middle of the night and we're freezing our knackers off," grunted the General, acknowledging Krillan with the slightest of salutes. "Hardly a pleasure for either of us. Let's go inside. I've got news for you."

  Krillan followed him into the hut. A small heater burned in the corner of the room, giving out
a pitiful warmth that vanished as soon as it touched your skin. The privilege that came with rank.

  General Vale sat down on the only chair. "This bloody disease, then. How are we getting on?"

  "The cordon is being enforced around the village, sir. My men are controlling all traffic on the roads and refusing entry in or out."

  "Good. And the curfew?"

  "In place as of seven nights ago. We haven't had anything we can't handle yet. The men have been told to shoot if need be."

  The General rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, looking for a second like the tired old man he was. "And do you think we need a curfew, Captain?"

  "I think it prudent, Sir. We need to control movement if we wish to contain the sickness and, as you know, everything is that much harder in the dark. Seemed to me to be the simplest solution was restrict movement after sunset."

  The General leaned forward in the chair. "I think we're all blundering about in the dark here, Captain. No one knows what this thing is or where it came from, and no one has the slightest idea how to stop it. Last thing we need is people running round like headless chickens. You've heard the news about the Prash-Romari fleet, I take it?"

  "We heard reports, Sir. We all have. I mean, the explosion lit up the sky even here." Krillan paused. "I believe it's being officially passed off as atmospheric disturbance."

  "You're doing a good job, Captain. All the right people are noticing. But you're going to have to take a bit more on board, I'm afraid. Army command is gearing up for something big. Obviously I'm not going into the details and nor would you expect me to." He fixed a clear gaze on Krillan. "I'm telling you all this because you shan't be coming with us, Captain."

  "Sir, I've proven myself time and again. If there's something going on then I want to be there, be a part of it, not stuck here checking peasant's wagons."

  "I appreciate that, Captain. But please believe me when I say that your work here is considered vital. All regular troops that can be spared are being shipped out at first light, as quietly as we can manage it. We will, of course, be needing to pull extra resources from the hospitals in readiness in case things get... well. Things could get complicated, Captain."