Spider's Kiss

by Jesse Sprague

  “Save your breath for clarifying your plan for the existing situation. I will not kill her!”

  “We just need her officially put in our care. If we leave her like this, someone will find her and send her to the state hospital. Her injuries may cause a fuss, but my DNA won’t appear and assault is deemed a very minimal crime. With her declared insane, we can simply walk her offworld with us. I shouldn’t have much trouble picking her up from the hospital once we have what we need. No one else will come for her. Even if they suspect me of harming her, without an accusation from her, they’ll act on my presumed innocence.”

  “How are we to get this mess off-planet?”

  “Leave that to me.”

  “Once our offspring is born, we grant her a swift death.” Allison deserves freedom after she’s served her purpose. No more like Marim. No more fed to the hive without cause.

  Halis paused. “Why kill her?”

  “Why do you care? You can’t intend to keep her around as your little rape-doll?”

  “Rape?” Halis glared at her. “That’s a nasty accusation.”

  “What else do you call that!” Until Silvia had said the words, Allison’s prone form barely registered. As she finished speaking, panic rose in her throat, choking her. Her next statement died in her chest. What am I? Death is clean, but this… I condoned this.

  Halis stepped forward, his brows drawn together, and the smile gone from his face. Silvia shoved him back and held her arm out to keep him at a distance.

  “I call it fighting extinction. She’s human—nothing.”

  She forced her next words to be softer. “Humanity has nothing to do with it. We didn’t kill her like clean prey.”

  “She wanted to mate with me.”

  “Indeed, when you were courting her in the park. You aren’t trying to tell me that threatened with death and insanity and poisoned, she remained willing?”

  “Something is wrong with you, Silvia. Being around all these humans has warped your perception. They’re nothing. She’s nothing, just chattel.”

  “And me?”

  “You aren’t one of them. You never were like them. She’s nothing but a lovely face to breed the continuation of our species.”

  But once Allison’s body accepted the Drambish gene, she couldn’t breed anymore. “Then why keep her?”

  “Get dressed. We’ll discuss this at home. If it means so much to you, we can be rid of her when the child is birthed. For now, we have more to worry about.”

  Chapter 15

  The Beginning of the End

  Grease clogged his nostrils; the air was laden with it. Berrick leaned back in the seat and poked at the gelatinous pie in front of him. The waitress, a tired middle-aged woman, was busy on the other side of the diner. A stained rag in her hand smeared some clean-all substance across the tables.

  Berrick looked at the files again. On top of the Drambish files lay another set covered in looping handwritten letters. Sometime after disembarking, the documents had been slipped in his bag. The intel had come from Allison—who else? The copious notes all detailed Halis’ behavior patterns. Page after page of times he’d left the house, how long he stayed out, whom he saw, who he slept with, who lived after sleeping with him. That she’d written the notes on paper only showed she had always intended them to come to him. Surely, whatever report she’d sent her agency had been done electronically.

  The house on the hill waited for him, but he’d come here first—to find Allison. He hadn’t fully understood what Halis and Silvia could do, what they were, or the vendetta they had when he’d met Allison the first time. That was no excuse for not warning her properly. He’d only warned her about Silvia also being part of the equation, but after reading the government papers, he understood the full threat that Halis posed.

  He didn’t have to read the words anymore to see them. He could have recited all twenty pages. Allison stood about as much chance against Halis as Berrick’s brother had stood against Silvia.

  The secretions were designed with the intent of allowing the Drambish soldiers to gain access to dangerous areas in a covert fashion. Initial findings were all positive; the reaction of the opposite gender to Drambish secretions could seduce intended victims even when the infected test subject was deliberately belligerent. The chemical reaction in the unaltered humans resembles the chemical reaction of love. However, at this stage in the experiment, the secretions cripple any idea of a tactical strike at the population.

  Would warning her have changed anything? When she’d left him in the station, the implication of her words had been that she’d foreseen her own death. Allison had already been caught up in the web, but that did not absolve him of his guilt.

  As the waitress moved over, Berrick lifted his hand. Studying her notes here wasn’t safe. Best get to the point and get to his newly rented room.

  “I was told a girl worked here—pale, blonde, beautiful.”

  “Lilly? Yup. She did. Hasn’t showed up in over a week.”

  So she was dead. “Any idea where she went?”

  “Nobody tells me nothin’. Boss had a meeting with some lawmen. You a lawman?”

  “No, just a friend.”

  “Well, rumor has it, just rumor mind you, she cracked. Had to send her away. Too bad. Rich handsome boyfriend and all. She was getting out of this place.”

  “Boyfriend?” That would be Halis.

  “Yeah, handsome dark-skinned fellow. Lives in a mansion on the rise over the ocean with his bitchy sister.”

  Halis and Silvia.

  “Well, thank you.” Berrick turned to his unnaturally red pie and the waitress continued her tidying. The sticky red goo tasted like congealed cherry syrup.

  Berrick turned to Allison’s handwritten notes. Despite an urge to drive up to Halis and Silvia’s house, waiting needed to fill the next few days. He’d study her notes, watch the house for himself. Only then could he start to take them out. One at a time until none of them remained. Annabelle last… first Silvia.

  Doctor Drambish’s notes on creating a central consciousness have disappeared from the computers. From what remains, his subjects were linked, much like ants to a central mind. This mind centered in Doctor Drambish. His early notes indicate this was to provide a stop measure should the experiment get out of control.

  Since Drambish’s disappearance, after slaughtering and partially consuming his aides, it can be assumed that Drambish has been contaminated. We have no data on how much of his own mind remains. The risk of him being at large and connected to these predators is unacceptable.

  They won’t hurt anyone else. The trail of death and insanity ends here.

  ∆∆∆

  Darith closed his eyes, but they opened moments later as a man in a business suit entered the dimly lit spaceship cabin. Energy pooled at Darith’s fingertips as the craft jerked into flight. The blond, bearded man reminded him of The Brothel’s agents. But after a closer inspection, Darith determined that couldn’t be. The clothes were too expensive, the ring on his finger worth a small fortune. No. Whoever this man was, his presence on the shuttle to the moon colony had nothing to do with Annabelle, himself, Marim, or The Brothel.

  The man seated himself on the plush seat opposite Darith. He didn’t avert his gaze. Nor could Darith read any emotion there—looking into his eyes reminded Darith of staring into the abyss that had claimed Marim.

  “You must be Darith Cortanis… No, no, don’t even try your magic.” The man held up his hand as if to display the small device in his palm.

  Darith didn’t recognize the machine but understood the implication that it would affect his magic. It was enough to caution him.

  The man continued. “It wouldn’t work and I mean you no harm. At least for now.”

  “Who the hell are you? And why are you intruding on my privacy? How did you find me?”

  “Oh, the pride of youth. I didn’t find you. Our meeting is coincidental in that sense. We are both here because we became entangled
in this Drambish mess.”

  “You are?”

  “My name is Mr. Red.”

  “You’re with The Brothel.”

  “No.” Red’s nose curled in distaste. “They’re clumsy fools playing with fire. So are you.”

  Darith tightened his fist, cutting off Red’s air supply. He felt the contact. Apparently, the little device does nothing.

  His elation died quickly. The only reaction in Red’s eyes was mild amusement. Rather than tearing at his throat, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a lock of red hair, tied with a stiff wire. Darith let go. His eyes fastened on the hair.

  “Marim?” Darith asked.

  “She’s alive, and no worse off than at the hospital. Not pretty enough for The Brothel to use—”

  “You shut up.”

  “Has anyone told you that you’re a nasty little twerp? Wisdom works far better than brute force.”

  “I’m doing fine.”

  “I assume by that you mean your wife wasn’t forcibly impregnated, driven insane, then kidnapped, your parents weren’t brutally murdered, and you’re not being chased by a powerful corporation or—”

  “Enough.” Darith’s fingers dug into the chair. Who was this bastard and how did he know so much? “What do you want?”

  “To tell you your wife isn’t being tortured or raped.” Red shrugged.

  “Why do you care?”

  “We’re tangled in this together. Someone I care about is down on that colony.”

  “You’re here to kill Silvia and Halis.”

  “You sound worried, boy. No. Not unless they get in my way. I’m here for my agent. Nothing more. I would’ve thought you’d be doing the same. You do realize your wife is on Yahal, correct?”

  “Keep your nose in your own affairs.”

  “And I assume you believe that wisdom is driving you?”

  Darith turned his face away from Red’s smirk. They sat in silence as the shuttle sped away from the main spaceship toward the Veesp moon colony. It wasn’t until the landing announcements sounded that Red spoke again.

  “The Brothel is waiting for your ‘spiders’ to flee. Every shuttle departing this little outpost has attendants scanning for their DNA.” With that comment, Red stood and left the compartment.

  Darith lingered a moment before standing. Time to confront Silvia, find out if she knew as much as she implied. Any DNA scan would work on him too. Sounded like, getting off the moon colony would be an issue.

  Once thing at a time. Silvia first.

  ∆∆∆

  Silvia shoved the suitcase against the wall. The bedroom was barren. What they weren’t packing, Halis was burning out back. The only decoration remaining was the lovely woman curled up on the couch. Allison couldn’t exactly be packed away.

  At an insistent tugging at the back of her mind, Silvia crossed the room, looking out at Halis. He remained oblivious. Darith had figured out how to isolate Silvia. Good, that means Halis doesn’t know Darith is here.

  Silvia slipped over to Allison, the darkness forming an invisible net around the pale woman. The air was thick and sweaty as Silvia’s hand passed through it to stroke the girl’s cheek.

  What a wonderful member of the family Allison could have been, but Allison couldn’t be trusted. She hadn’t even been given a chance to be driven mad naturally by the gene… Silvia had planted the poison specifically to break Allison’s mind.

  “I’d do it again,” Allison whispered to the ghosts in her mind. She lifted her head; a bloody hole was all that remained of her left eye. The right eye latched on to Silvia before closing.

  Silvia lifted her new necklace, backed by silver and sealed beneath a magic time barrier. The violet color of the iris gleamed as vivid as a jewel.

  Halis is a good man. He loves me, and that is all that matters.

  But it wasn’t. She knew the danger of sneaking off on her own now, when they had every reason to think The Brothel would keep coming after them here. Yet she didn’t want him anywhere near Darith. If he couldn’t even see the harm he’d done to Allison, not even feel it was wrong…

  But it would leave them both crippled to be apart. Together as a unit, they were nearly indestructible. But alone… She shivered, remembering coming into that bedroom to find Berrick with a gun trained on Halis. And her love bleeding. Separate, they were weak.

  The tug came again, and Silvia stood straight, feeling outward with her mind. Darith waited and through the murky vision of the web, Silvia recognized his location. Darith’s here and he’s calling me.

  Silvia glanced out at Halis. The white blur of Allison at the corner of her vision made the decision for Silvia. She couldn’t tell Halis. Love him or not, she couldn’t trust him. Marim had rejected the Drambish gene and Darith was trying to overcome it. Silvia wasn’t willing to risk Halis deciding they were enemies and destroying them. No. She needed to find out what Darith wanted on her own.

  Chapter 16

  Berrick vs. the Drambish

  Like the shadow of a moonbeam, Silvia slid from the house. Berrick adjusted himself in his hiding place. Even compensating for her improved hearing and vision, she wouldn’t notice him. Allison had fully vetted this spot to spy on the spiders. It was only luck that made the location she’d chosen a perfect layout for a sniper shot. He leveled the gun at her, setting her in his sights.

  Words on paper told Berrick what she was. A contamination. A nearly unstoppable disease created in an attempt to build a super-soldier. No survivors. That was The High Council’s decision, genocide was the only option, and because the Drambish gene was a contagion passed by prolonged bodily contact or sexual contact. It came down not to no Drambish survivors, but no survivors.

  That sacrifice, all those lives, would be for nothing if Silvia, with her swaying hips and pouty mouth, wasn’t eradicated. Berrick’s arm shook.

  We created them. Shot this into their veins.

  Surprise was the only way to kill the sorceress. Halis he might be able to take by force, but Silvia had to be first. He’d waited for her to emerge, but now that she had, his finger stalled on the trigger.

  Silvia pushed a floating stroller in front of her, dressed like a wicked queen from one of Marim’s storybooks. Berrick followed her, every moment his mind commanding his finger to move. She rushed down the drive—deep red hair trailing after her like a stream of blood diluting in black ink.

  Pull the damn trigger.

  Berrick lowered the gun. She was too far away now. The chance was gone. Whether it was wise or not, he would have to go after Halis first. The spiders were preparing to leave the colony; he might not get another chance with them apart.

  His back pressed into the tree behind him, Berrick watched the smear of Silvia’s form disappear into the distance. He needed her far enough away that if Halis used the odd connection the Drambish shared, Silvia could not make it back in time to save her lover.

  Berrick’s understanding of the Drambish mental interconnectedness was minimal. Hell, the documents hardly seemed to indicate the researchers had even understood. They were just a mess of suppositions of powers the Drambish might have. But something connected them. Marim had rambled about it and Darith had tried to explain.

  Get in. Kill Halis. Get out before the black widow returns. That was the plan.

  I should have shot her. Why didn’t I?

  Berrick lifted his gaze to the thick black clouds that blotted the sun. “I love you, Marim.”

  All the windows in the house were dark and the streetlights barely penetrated the trees as Berrick crept toward the house. At any moment, he expected Halis to burst from the house. Turn to him and charge. Berrick adjusted his grip on the gun, twisting his hands around the comforting density.

  He exited the trees and bent his knees, half-crawling forward. Smoke funneled into the sky. From a fireplace? Berrick wondered. There was a significant amount.

  The long, grassy slope to the house provided almost no cover and his gaze never left the windows.
At one point, he thought he saw a ghost of white cross the glass. He dropped to the ground. But nothing emerged, so he rose from the dirt and covered the last of the distance to the house.

  The air was heavy with smoke and Berrick looked to the sky. A thick column of smoke peeled from the back of the house. It wasn’t coming from inside at all.

  “I’ll probably be joining you, Polly,” he whispered.

  Gods, how he wanted to see Polly, to see Petyr. He closed his eyes and tried to picture them. Tried to conjure that part of his life, Polly in her rocking chair holding a cup of steaming tea. Marim laying in front of the fire reading a book to her brother, who, rather than sitting, still clambered all over her back. All of it was as distant and unreal as a dream.

  He looked at the dark house and the rolling smoke, the weight of booze in his pocket calling to him. This was life. He couldn’t touch those who had taken Polly and Petyr; they were too far up the governmental food chain. But the man who’d taken Marim and broken her was back there.

  Berrick slid along the wall, stopping and listening after each step. He heard only the crackle of flame. At the corner, he listened longer, trying to distinguish footsteps under the sound of the bonfire. When he thought he knew the general location of Halis he stepped around the edge.

  Thick and heavy, black flecks of ash colored the garden in gray and little bursts of orange. At the epicenter, a fire bloomed, sending cascading black clouds upward. Halis stood near it, tossing a chair into the flame, then watching it catch.

  No playing hero. No warnings. Berrick lifted the gun and leveled it. If some invisible force had stayed his hand with Silvia, he’d be sure he wouldn’t give it time to intervene for Halis.

  Halis turned, his black eyes locking on Berrick.

  Berrick squeezed his finger.

  The gun recoiled against Berrick’s shoulder.

  A burst of red shot from the left side of Halis’ chest. The scream that ripped from Halis began as a throaty human wail but transformed with him into a shrill screech.