Differently Morphous

by Yahtzee Croshaw

  “She deliberately left the phone,” she said, partly to herself. “She left it for us to find?”

  Shgshthx wobbled. “Why?”

  She followed through on the thought out loud. “She wants to be found. Maybe she’s trying to stop herself. Maybe Jessica’s still got some control. Maybe she’s trying to fight back. But . . .”

  But if Jessica and her Ancient were currently wrestling each other for control of the body, then a very fast way of resolving that conflict would be to let Victor Casin loose to atomize first and ask questions later. Under that kind of threat, the “real” Jessica would probably be scared off for good.

  Alison glanced back and forth between the monastery and the hills to the north. The professional thing to do at that point would have been to go back to Elizabeth and Danvers and Pavani and Anderson, express her concerns, and then hope that they would rethink the situation, discuss options, and come up with a new course of action that everyone could agree upon. And additionally hope that they could manage all of this before Casin and Hesketh found Jessica.

  She turned to Dennis. “You know where the other fluidics are?”

  “Yesh,” he replied, pointing his mass northwards.

  “Can you take me to them? Quick enough to get there before a pair of professional hunters do?”

  76

  “You know, we are occasionally referred to as professionals,” said Casin, standing with arms folded. “It wouldn’t hurt to live up to it once in a while.”

  Hesketh’s senses had led the party east, through the forest, then a little way north, then back west, then sharply to the northeast. So far they had found no fluidics, but a few traces of their slime trails and a great deal of salt. Adam was crouching beside a mass of the stuff that was creating a huge, crescent-shaped dent in the vegetation.

  He sat back on his haunches. “What’s the matter now?”

  “This is taking way too long,” said Victor. “How long are we gonna keep diddling back and forth?”

  Adam straightened up. “For as long as they did, I guess.”

  “Great. And in the meantime she’s probably making fluidic slushies as we speak. Can’t you get some general idea of where it’s all leading?”

  “I don’t tell you how to burn things,” said Adam testily. “The signal’s gotten spread around too much. All I can do is follow the line through the fog.”

  Victor punched his palm. “Christ. She’s toying with us.”

  Adam began to walk northwest, the direction indicated by the curve of the salt barrier. “Or she was toying with them. You know. Herding them.”

  “Herding them where?”

  “To the sea?” suggested Black, following behind Victor just ahead of Rawlins. He was a young man, younger than Casin or Hesketh, with a pinched face that looked like he was constantly trying to determine the source of a bad smell.

  “No one asked you, kid,” said Victor, on immediate reflex. “Bet you’re feeling pretty stupid about all this, hm?”

  “Me?” said Adam, not looking back but keeping his eyes on the invisible trails. “About what?”

  “You know. Buying into Weatherby’s bollocks about how demonic possession is misunderstood and how they’re really kindred spirits having a great big cosmic cuddle inside one body.”

  “That was Aaron. Last I checked we’re looking for his sister.”

  “I said, I’m pretty sure she was herding them towards the sea,” said Black.

  Victor made a sharp exhalation, spitting the air out of his mouth. “You don’t seriously think they’re not in cahoots on this one? I knew he was laying it on a bit thick. Ooh, the wonderful music of the spheres in the Ethereal Realm, hippie-dippie happy-clappy, keep the dumb twats distracted while the sister’s striking names off the list.”

  “You could have mentioned your suspicions at the time.”

  “I did! Why’re we stopping?”

  The forest had cleared around them and transitioned into the grassy hills north of the monastery. Adam pointed towards another mass of salt in the grass ahead: a wall of spikes, like the teeth of a vast, monstrous jawbone emerging from beneath the ground.

  “North?” said Victor, interpreting the curve of the wall.

  “Mmm,” said Adam, inspecting the horizon. “I think she might have been taking them to the sea.”

  Black opened his mouth.

  “Why would she do that?” interjected Victor.

  Adam shrugged. “Lots of salt in the sea.”

  “What, you think she needs to stock up? She’s a salt elemental. She’s not wanting for salt.”

  “I don’t get it either, but it’s the direction they went. Maybe she’s doing, like, a symbolic thing?”

  “Casting them into the sea?” Victor mulled it over. “They do seem to like poetry. Had to listen to her brother’s for half an hour.”

  “Oh god, I get it,” moaned Adam, resuming the walk. “You weren’t taken in, and you still hate possessed people. Good for you. I’m sure you’ll have a lovely time hurting this one.”

  “Yes, I’m sure I will,” spat Victor. “Won’t you?”

  “Actually, no, I won’t.”

  “So why do you hate fluidics so much?”

  77

  On the coast directly north of the monastery, the last hill descended into a slope of smooth black stone that coarsened into a rocky beach as it reached the water. White waves slithered rhythmically in and out of the labyrinth of cracks and funnels between the stones, the occasional burst of spray adding a light percussion to the calming hiss of surf.

  The physical aspect of Jessica Weatherby stood on a large rock at the point where the tide met the land, watching the tongues of foam licking at the unyielding stone below her. Her feet were together and her hands were gathered behind her back as she looked to the horizon and took a deep, invigorating breath.

  “All right, troops,” she said. The Ancient’s presence had given her voice a high-pitched metallic ring, in contrast to Aaron’s booming, demonic tones. “Don’t draw this out. The water’s not getting any warmer.”

  She lifted one leg like a flamingo and spun on her heel, keeping her balance effortlessly. A vast horseshoe of conjured salt dominated the beach, its arms reaching all the way to the ocean. A patchwork quilt of shaking fluidics occupied the space in between, pressed together to escape the touch of the salt and the seawater. With each slap of the waves against the horseshoe’s mouth, they squeezed each other more tightly, emitting a squeaky collective fart.

  “Oh, don’t be such babies; we all have to learn to swim sometime,” said Jessica’s mouth, as the rest of her bobbed on her ankles in anticipation. “The best way is to jump right in at the deep end, I find. It gets easier very fast.”

  “Jessica!”

  Alison was on the grass at the top of the slope, silhouetted against the sky. She broke into an anxious run and, as she took in the scene below, awkwardly reduced it to a slow advance, hands splayed forward calmingly.

  The Jessica entity replied with a loud throat noise reminiscent of a stock wrong-answer game show buzzer. “Have another guess.”

  “Reaver?”

  Jessica’s index finger scratched her temple. “Mm, not bad. You’ve got ‘not bad’; that’s safe. But if you get this question wrong, you won’t go through to the final round. Who am I really?”

  “Shgshthx,” said Dennis, from the long grass just behind the rise.

  Jessica’s arms stretched wide. “And the cowpat has won tonight’s star prize! A beach full of dead friends! Take another step forward, Alison Arkin, and he’ll get them express delivered.”

  Alison had already slowed to a stop at the edge of the beach as she took in Jessica’s new appearance. Her dark T-shirt had become black from the moisture that seeped constantly from the pores in her gray flesh. Parts of her face had swelled and become gelatinous and semitransparent, revealing her veins and a few stark lines of bone.

  “The fluidics were once part of an Ancient named Shgshthx,�
� recalled Alison aloud, barely conscious of her own words as her eyes scanned Jessica’s face. “We assumed Shgshthx wasn’t still around. We were wrong.”

  “I’m not giving out extra credit, but yes, you were,” said Jessica-Shgshthx, doing a fashion model’s twirl on the rock.

  The tide came in again, and a burst of saltwater sprinkled across the crowd of fluidics. Each droplet left a small hole ringed with black crust, and the recipient would flinch and press even harder against the mass. Alison didn’t know if fluidics could feel pain as humans understood it, but they were picking up terror like naturals.

  Fluidics came here as refugees, she remembered. Why didn’t anyone ever ask what they were seeking refuge from?

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked.

  What little of Jessica’s face could still express normal emotions gave her a condescending look. “Come on, silly tits. If your left leg broke off and declared independence, you’d want to make an example of it before your right leg got ideas.”

  “They’re sentient.” There was another squeal as the tide pushed in again, shaving a narrow strip off the leading fluidic.

  Jessica’s face shook with anger, making the swollen parts jiggle like molded jelly. “What is it with corporeals and sentience? It’s not that special. You think you’re an entire dimension of Chosen Ones, don’t you. Swanning about in your hairy pink suits, waving your wrinkly parts for everyone to see. Let me tell you what being sentient means: getting as shat on as everything else, but having to be aware of it. That’s all.”

  Alison took a single step forward, palms still outstretched. “I understand,” she lied. “But I still have to stop you.”

  Jessica’s left eyebrow lolled upwards. “You’re welcome to try.”

  Alison tried to take another step forward, but her foot refused to move. She looked down and saw it disappearing into a miniature garden of white crystals that was bursting from the cracks between the pebbles. She pulled harder, and the end of each spike divided into pretty fractal patterns, expanding to encase her entire lower leg. The growth swiftly spread to her other foot, crossing over the top of her shoe and tightening like crystalline laces.

  “What a tense, climactic showdown that was,” said Jessica-Shgshthx dryly, if such a word could still be applied to anything she did.

  “Jessica,” said Alison, pronouncing the word clearly and firmly. “I want to talk to Jessica. Not Reaver and not Shgshthx.”

  Jessica-Shgshthx’s back stiffened, her arms falling loosely by her sides.

  “I know you’re still there,” continued Alison. The salt had stopped growing after both of her knees were held in place. “And I know that you don’t want this. You can fight it. Jessica.”

  Jessica-Shgshthx swayed on her rocky perch for a moment, her eyes unfocused, before she cocked her head and put her hands on her hips. “Okay, that was embarrassing. Is that really how you think this works? Do you think, in my head, there’s, like, a little Jessica and a little Shgshthx fighting over the microphone?”

  She jiggled her head, and the salt crystals that encased Alison’s legs grew explosively. In seconds they had risen to engulf the right side of her torso, surrounding her arm and clamping it into place more rigidly than her cloak of squirrels had managed.

  “Jessica’s dead,” advised Jessica-Shgshthx. “Shgshthx is dead. All Shgshthx’s wayward kids are coming along for the ride. I . . .”

  Her brow resembled a wet sponge being wrung out as it furrowed with confusion. She sniffed the air as vapor began to rise from the sea around her. The gentle hum of the surf was slowly joined by a liquid thundering that grew in volume like advancing war drums. She looked down and saw that the water around her rock was boiling violently. The tide drew back to reveal softening rocks glowing yellowly with heat.

  “Don’t let me interrupt,” said Victor Casin, who was standing atop the rise, one hand outstretched and trench coat billowing impressively in the cool coastal breeze. “You were saying something about being dead?”

  Jessica-Shgshthx’s head snapped upwards with a shower of viscous droplets. “Stay where you are,” she said, all levity vanishing. “I’ll kill them all.”

  Victor strolled nonchalantly down the slope, outstretched arm bouncing mockingly with each step. “Kill them all, and I’ll roast you alive. Isn’t debating fun.”

  The rock beneath Jessica-Shgshthx shifted as it began to melt. She crouched, no longer confident in her balance, and glanced around like a nervous gazelle, seeking escape. The tide came in again and threw up sheets of steam the instant it touched the glowing shingle.

  “Victor!” yelled Alison. “The tide!”

  Victor looked away from his prey and saw the seawater rush toward the mass of fluidics again. He threw out his free hand, and a scar of red heat tore across the mouth of the horseshoe. The salt water evaporated completely before it touched any part of the fluidics’ cringing mass. “Adam,” he barked. “Get them out of there.”

  Adam Hesketh appeared from behind his partner and galloped wobblingly ahead, descending the slope at a sprint that seemed to be threatening to turn into a catastrophic fall all the way down. He practically collapsed against the wall of the salt horseshoe and began pulling at it with his hands to make a gap.

  Victor froze, which was probably ironic. “Where’s she gone?”

  Adam looked up. The steam had cleared to reveal that Jessica-Shgshthx’s perch was little more than a misshapen orange lump, rapidly cooling in the surrounding water, but she herself was nowhere to be seen.

  He switched on his enhanced vision and immediately pointed to a spot in the ocean several yards to the right of where she was last seen. “She’s under the water. There!”

  He was indicating quite a large swath of the Atlantic Ocean, so Victor erred on the side of caution. A section of sea floor the size of a modest car park began to glow. Bubbles soon rose to the surface, followed by a number of dead fish.

  Jessica-Shgshthx exploded from the water on a narrow ridge of salt, clinging to its top with all her limbs like a motorcycle rider. Her mutated face was twisted with fury, and she focused it all on the first enemy she saw, which happened to be Adam Hesketh.

  A thick line of salt burst from her perch, extending all the way from the sea to the top of the beach, slicing through the horseshoe like the line through a cent symbol. Adam dived aside, and the fluidics separated into two groups to avoid it. Two of them weren’t quick enough and were lifted high off the ground, shriveling rapidly at the salt’s deadly touch.

  Victor melted the salt directly underneath Jessica-Shgshthx, and the ridge collapsed, sending her tumbling into the sea along with several gobbets of molten salt that burst and spat violently as they touched the water.

  Stunned, she was dumped unceremoniously onto the beach by the tide, where she lay coughing into the shingle. The pale and semitransparent parts of her exposed flesh had turned raw pink from the heat. Victor began to advance towards her, aiming both hands squarely at her head.

  She saw him coming and threw a hand towards him. Salt crystals materialized between his splayed fingers, and an instant later, both his hands were trapped inside textured spheres resembling giant golf balls. As he inspected them, bemused, a third growth of salt crystals ensnared both of his feet. Her arm slapped back down, exhausted, and she hung her head with relief.

  “Pyrokinetic,” said Victor.

  She looked up again, blinking in the sun. “Wha?”

  “I’m a pyrokinetic. I start fires with my mind.”

  Jessica-Shgshthx glanced around, trying to figure out the punch line. “I know what pyrokinetic means!”

  “With my mind,” repeated Victor, emphasizing each word. “Not with my hands.” He punctuated his sentence by making the salt around his feet glow, then burst as he hopped out of it before it could burn his legs.

  Jessica-Shgshthx made an animalistic growl and pushed herself away from the rapidly heating stones beneath her. She crab walked back into the shallows, throwi
ng out wild conjurations of salt behind her that Victor melted leisurely as he sloshed towards her, leaving a trail of bursts and sputters where molten salt reacted with the water.

  Finally her strength gave out and she flopped down onto her back, only her face breaking the surface of the water. Victor seized his chance and closed the distance, standing directly over her with one of his salt mittens over her head.

  “Please,” said Jessica-Shgshthx, between gasping breaths.

  Victor didn’t move. Alison tensed, waiting for Jessica’s skull to be vaporized at any moment, but it never happened. She peered at Victor as best she could and saw that an internal conflict seemed to be raging in the battleground of his furrowing brow and twitching mouth.

  A blunt column of salt erupted from the sea between Victor’s legs and buried itself in his crotch with a sound like a sack of flour hitting a concrete floor.

  He bent double just as Jessica-Shgshthx sat up, grabbed his coat by the lapels, and pulled him into a somersault that left him lying on his back in the shallows. She conjured a solid belt of salt around his midsection before he could react, pinning him to the sea floor.

  He growled and started melting the salt, but an incoming wave smashed across his face and went up his mouth and nostrils, killing his concentration. By the time he had shaken that off, Jessica-Shgshthx was walking ponderously back up the beach, shoulders squared. “Hey!” he yelled. “We’re not done!”

  “Salt elemental,” replied Jessica-Shgshthx, not looking back.

  “What?”

  “I’m a salt elemental. I create salt. I don’t create shits to give.”

  Victor growled again and made another attempt to melt the salt that held him in place. He had made a small piece of it glow before the water came in again and cooled it rapidly. Something painful and fast moving burst off and stung his cheek, narrowly missing his eye socket.

  Adam had been able to clear a space in the section of salt prison nearest the water, and three fluidics had already squeezed through to safety. Jessica-Shgshthx threw up an arm without slowing her pace, and another ring of salt appeared, turning the circle of salt and seawater into more of a Venn diagram, enclosing all the fluidics anew. The salt bank sprouted a few small extensions that encased Adam’s hands and feet.