Guardians Of The Galaxy: Collect Them All Prose Novel

by Corinne Duyvis

  The Collector was pushing it. A lot. He was also, however, finally starting to talk about something other than fish.

  “Elaborate,” Drax said.

  If the other Guardians insisted on hearing the why and how before leaving for the arboretum, Drax could at least attempt to speed up the explanation.

  “He’s not just any Flora colossus, is he?” Gamora studied the projection. “He’s an exact duplicate of our Groot. Just like the one at the Kyln. How? We can regrow Groot after he’s been destroyed, but it shouldn’t be possible to grow a second one while he’s still walking and talking. There’s only one Groot at a time.”

  Or so they had thought.

  Drax finished his drink and thunked the empty glass down on the control panel. “Answer my friend’s questions.”

  The Collector smiled. “As Gamora says: Once your Groot is destroyed, he can be regrown. Every shard has the potential to flourish anew. Once a single shard is planted and Groot’s consciousness takes root inside it—you must forgive my pun there—the potential of the remaining shards dims. Several weeks ago, I retrieved a large splinter from the site of one of your battles. After some experimentation, I found myself able to revive this shard’s potential. When one has lived as long as I have, one picks up various obscure but useful branches of science.”

  “Branches? That another pun?” Rocket said, glaring.

  “Ah. Perhaps. Now: Before my specimen made it to adulthood, there was an…incident. My assistant took her leave without informing me and destroyed part of my collection as she went. Another part went missing—my prized Flora colossus. Naturally, I have been searching for my assistant since. She appears to have taken the Flora colossus in order to grow and sell duplicates. A side effect of my manipulations is that it opened the floodgates: Using branches from the altered specimen, it has become possible to continue growing new, identical Flora colossi. She has…taken full advantage of that fact.”

  “So—all the Flora colossi she’s selling are Groot dupes?” Rocket sounded horrified. “How many?”

  “I do not know.” The Collector tipped his drink toward the holo. “I retrieved this particular specimen from one of her customers I tracked. As delighted as I am to welcome him to my collection—”

  “You realized,” Quill interrupted, “friends don’t clone friends? And then imprison that clone? And then imprison a clone of that clone? And then proudly show off that clone to said friends? You—you have a terrible idea of friendship, Tivan! Watch My Little Pony, bro. There are some life lessons you need to learn.”

  “Can we shoot him yet?” Rocket asked.

  “Or stab,” Drax said.

  Quill gulped down his drink and wiped his mouth. “Getting tempted.”

  Rocket snarled. “This is great. Real great. There are who-knows-how-many Groots to track down, and that number is only gonna grow. Soon, her buyers’ll duplicate and sell their Groots, and those buyers will do the same, and then we got a real problem of multiplication on our hands.”

  “This could get out of control,” Drax agreed.

  “Ah, thankfully, no,” the Collector said. “I’ve examined this specimen. He appears to be—shall we say, sterile? He is not capable of growing other Flora colossi like the one I manipulated. In fact, I suspect he would not even be able to regrow himself if too badly damaged. My assistant altered him. She stole my research when she took her leave. Although it is not possible for a brain as…mortal as hers to comprehend the process fully, she appears to have found a crude way of once more blocking the shards’ potential to grow new Groots. She must have wanted to avoid competing sources of Flora colossi.”

  “So she can grow as many as she wants…but if one of her Groots is destroyed, he’s gone for good?” Quill frowned at the projection of the Groot. “He’s a dead end. A mayfly.”

  “That is cruel,” Gamora said from beside Drax. He nodded his agreement.

  “Your assistant is some kinda scientist?” Rocket scrunched up his face.

  “She is a botanist, in fact. Still a student, but an advanced one: She is DiMavi, and they choose their specialties young. Her skill is likely why she decided to take the Flora colossus.”

  “Enough of this,” Gamora said. “What are you after, Tivan?”

  “Gamora. Ever the delight.” The Collector smiled. “I want to find my assistant and the specimens she sold. For two reasons. One, I was exceedingly proud of my original Flora colossus—not only a highly unusual species in this part of the galaxy, but a genetic duplicate of a genuine Guardian of the Galaxy. The existence of further duplicates significantly lowers its value.”

  “I know shooting him won’t kill him,” Rocket said, one hand on his gun, “but it’ll probably hurt, right?”

  “Two,” the Collector went on after a sideways glance at Rocket, “the more time passes, the weaker this Flora colossus becomes. It is not only him, I see.”

  “I am Groot?” Groot said. The Collector was eying him.

  “You shuffle your feet. You only noticed your duplicate in the holo once Rocket did. You drank the entire pitcher of water within seconds, as though your body craved it. Your response time…” He spun the serving tray toward Groot, who fumbled for it. The tray skimmed his fingers, changed course, and clattered into the wall behind him. Groot cringed at the sound. The Collector merely shrugged. “Your response time has been better, no?”

  “I am Groot,” he said sheepishly.

  Drax had his hands on his blades the second the Collector tossed the tray, ready to jump in and defend his friend. Now he relaxed his grip slightly, but he stayed on edge.

  The Collector was too confident.

  Drax did not like it.

  “I had a telepath and mystic feel out the situation. They say my specimen has weakened, both mentally and physically. His life force is slowly, constantly draining out, sometimes in spurts. They felt it scatter to separate points.”

  “One Groot at a time,” Gamora said, echoing her earlier words.

  “There’s only so much Groot to go around, huh?” Rocket’s arms were crossed, his gun forgotten by his side and his glass half-empty on the floor.

  “I am Groot?” Groot said, unsure.

  Quill frowned. “You’re saying every time this assistant grows a new sapling, a little of our Groot drains away?”

  “It appears so,” the Collector said. “And as these saplings grow, they need more energy, too.”

  “So they’re connected? They share a mind?” Gamora watched Groot. “Did you sense that other Groot somehow…?”

  “I am Groot.”

  “That’s a ‘no,’ I assume?” the Collector asked.

  “You assume correctly,” Drax said.

  “Pity. My mystic thought the same. There is no psionic connection between them, except for the essential life force they share.”

  “So we’ve got enough energy to power a single Groot, divvied up between who-knows-how-many bodies,” Rocket summarized. “Wow, Collector, you really did a bang-up job here, didn’t you?”

  “So, hey, I have a funny question.” Quill held a thumb to his temple and index finger to his forehead as though trying hard to make sense of something. “You know there’s no chance in hell we’ll walk away with that Groot stuck in your arboretum. Why are you telling us all this?”

  “Ah!” The Collector sat up straighter. “Now we arrive at the interesting part. Would you like another drink?”

  “No,” Quill said.

  “No,” Drax and Gamora added.

  “Yes,” Rocket said. He shrugged. “Least he can do.”

  The Collector laughed. “How about I do even better, yes? I offer you my help. We want the same thing: to find and stop the seller, and to find the other Groots. You may need my resources or my knowledge of my assistant. I may need your unique skill sets. Shall we work together?”

  Quill regarded him for a moment. “Yeah, so, you didn’t answer my question. Your Groot isn’t staying.”

  “I propose a trade.”
The Collector steepled his fingers. “If you help me find my assistant and allow me to deal with her, you may take my specimen. No fighting. No arguing. No tricks. The Flora colossus will remain here in the meantime, so that I can be confident of your utmost devotion to our cooperation. As you can see, he is not being harmed.”

  “An assistant is worth more to you than a Flora colossus?” Drax asked.

  The Collector’s face darkened. “I do not take kindly to betrayal.”

  That part, Drax believed. It set his mind at ease about working with the Collector—but only marginally.

  “So what’s your plan?” Rocket asked.

  “We set out together. I have a lead on buyers who may know my assistant’s location.” His mouth curved into an almost-smile. “One of these leads is on a nearby moon—”

  “Yeah, hold up?” Quill raised a hand as though requesting a teacher’s attention. Once he had everyone’s eyes on him, he extended an index finger at the projection. “You said you got that Groot from a buyer, right? It was one your assistant grew, not the one you grew yourself?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, duh, we just ask the Groot where she grew him,” Rocket said.

  The Collector paused.

  “Yeah, feeling dumb yet?”

  “In my defense,” he said primly, “it really does sound like he is simply repeating his name.”

  Groot sighed. “I am Groot.”

  “He gets that a lot,” Drax translated.

  “We do nothing without discussing it with Groot. Both of them.” Gamora had barely touched her zengrita. Now, she knocked it back in one go.

  The Collector winced. “You’re supposed to nurse that drink—”

  Drax stepped forward. “Take us to him.”

  8

  GAMORA would’ve been impressed with the arboretum, had she not been so focused on tracking the other Groot.

  “Groot!” she called.

  The others fanned out and did the same.

  “I am Groot!” The real Groot’s voice didn’t reach far. The look on his face seemed partially interested, partially unsure. The trees ranged from narrow saplings to oaks so thick they had to be ancient; the ground from rock to dirt to grass to a bed of leaves. The scent was sharp and fresh, and so unlike either their ship or the cities they tended to visit, that Gamora couldn’t help taking a second to close her eyes and breathe in deeply.

  Under other circumstances, she imagined this really could be Groot’s dream environment—but not without other people. Groot loved companionship too much to be alone for long.

  Something rustled through the underbrush. She looked over just in time to see a fluffy banded tail skittering away from them.

  “Is that—?” Rocket asked.

  “—an Earth raccoon?” Quill looked at the Collector following behind them.

  “Groot seems to get along with them,” the Collector said dryly. “I thought he might feel more at ease.”

  Rocket stared at the spot where the raccoon had disappeared. “Cree-eepy. Didya see those stubby little paws?” He cocked his head as if listening, and peered intently through the trees. “Oh! Groot! I see him.” Within seconds, he was gone, crashing through the underbrush. Quill followed.

  After a moment, Gamora spotted him as well. The other Groot had waded hip-deep into a lake behind the trees, and was taking long, stumbling steps toward the shore. “I am Groot?” he called out. “I am Groot?”

  He was calling their names.

  Gamora knew she shouldn’t be surprised, but the realization that he knew them still knocked her for a loop.

  “Are they the same person?” Drax said, puzzled.

  “Groot’s memories and personality are intact whenever he grows back,” she said. “The same seems to apply in this case.”

  “I am Groot.” Their Groot smiled feebly at them, then swerved through the sparse trees to follow Rocket.

  “A lovely place, is it not?” The Collector lingered behind with Drax and Gamora. “I had been planning to find other species from his planet to make it feel more like home. I treat my rare specimens well.”

  “You’re right,” Gamora said. “It’s lovely. For being sold into captivity.”

  She moved forward without another word. They had given the Collector the benefit of the doubt; he had lost it.

  Quill and Rocket were already talking to the other Groot when she approached. With both Groots this close by, she could see the differences. The other Groot was younger—a little smaller, narrower, greener.

  “I am Groot,” he said, gesturing animatedly. “I am Groot—I am Groot!”

  “Are you serious? What a douche.” Quill half-turned on Gamora’s approach. “Did you catch that? About the guy who bought him as a sapling? At least Groot stuck a branch through the guy’s neck the moment the Collector distracted him—that’s some comfort.”

  The Groot bared his teeth. “I. Am. Groot.”

  Gamora cocked her head. Violence was not unlike the Groot they knew, as long as the people deserved it—and it sounded like this man had.

  But their Groot was not known for grimly enjoying that violence.

  Then again, Groot had never been regrown by someone other than the Guardians before; he’d never woken up as a sapling only to find himself mass-produced and sold against his will. That, she assumed, might change a person.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “We didn’t know.”

  “How has the Collector treated you?” Quill asked.

  The answer came more curtly now. “I am Groot.”

  The Collector wouldn’t have allowed them to talk to this Groot if he had really been mistreated, so the semi-positive answer didn’t come as a surprise.

  It wasn’t about how the Collector treated him. It was about him trapping Groot in the first place.

  “I am Groot,” their Groot said quietly.

  “Look, we need to find the person behind this,” Quill said. “We already know who—”

  “Her name is Kiya,” the Collector said.

  “Where did she grow you? Do you know?”

  The young Groot nodded and shot a dark look at the Collector. “I am Groot.”

  “Cool.” Quill leaned against a tree. “The way I see it, we have two options. One, we take you with us, blow some stuff up, and try to find the seller ourselves, since I’m pretty sure Tivan here wouldn’t want to help us out after that. Two, the five of us cooperate with him to try to find the seller together. Once we do, he says he’ll let you go.”

  “I vote for blowing stuff up,” Rocket said.

  Drax nodded. “If Groot knows where to find the seller, we do not need the Collector’s help. I do not trust him.”

  “You are all aware that I can hear you?” the Collector asked.

  “We truly don’t care,” Gamora said.

  “Friend rights are waived,” Quill agreed.

  “Consider,” the Collector said, “that this girl escaped this station by herself, taking with her a securely guarded specimen from my collection. Do you think that’s an easy task?”

  “I’m thinking—” Rocket started.

  The Collector snapped his fingers.

  Two trees nearby slid open, revealing slick machine guns pointed straight at them. A camera bot hovered down from the canopy, announcing, “Six targets in sight.” Three others zoomed in close and repeated the message. “Six targets in sight.”

  Gamora had a feeling they weren’t solely camera bots.

  Quill reached for his element gun. “Guys—” He didn’t need to say it. They instantly formed a back-to-back circle, weapons out, eyes on the targets.

  “No need.” Another snap of the Collector’s fingers. The bots disappeared back into the canopy. The trees slid closed. Within seconds, the scene was indistinguishable from any regular forest. “Just displaying the most visible elements of my security system. To make a point. Yes?”

  “I want your toys so bad,” Rocket sulked.

  “What point? That getting out of here
with Groot won’t be as easy as we thought?” Quill asked. “That doesn’t intimidate us.”

  “Are you saying I would threaten my dear friends? Never,” he said slickly. “I’m saying that grabbing her might not be as easy as you thought—because she made it out of here unscathed. I know Kiya better than any of you. Working together would increase our chances.”

  Quill was silent.

  Gamora studied the forest, searching for the narrow slits where the trees had opened up. That she hadn’t spotted them at first unnerved her greatly. She couldn’t see the camera bots anymore either, nor could she detect the other security measures the Collector had hinted at.

  If they wanted to, they could escape. They’d faced worse.

  But it wouldn’t be easy.

  “I am Groot.” The other Groot stepped forward until he was face-to-face with the Collector, who looked up unruffled, his gleaming purple cloak entirely at odds with the green and brown surrounding him.

  “Yes?” He sipped the zengrita he’d brought with him, peering up at the Groot through his eyelashes.

  “I am Groot. I am Groot.”

  “A translation, if you please?” the Collector asked.

  The Groot turned and stalked off.

  “I am Groot?” Their Groot ran after his counterpart. His foot caught on a root and he stumbled, only just catching himself.

  “He said ‘screw you,’” Rocket informed the Collector, “and gave us the location where your assistant grew him.”

  “That first part wasn’t paraphrased this time,” Quill said.

  “He chose to stay for now, then? Wise.”

  “I have a question.” Drax had his arms crossed. Their Groot returned, his face in a twisted frown. Two toes had broken off from his stumble. “Would eliminating the duplicates help our companion regain his strength?”

  “Drax!” Rocket snarled.

  “I am Groot?” Groot asked, startled.

  Gamora shook her head. “Drax, we’re not solving this problem by killing innocents. Especially when those innocents are our friend.”

  She’d have been lying, though, if she claimed she hadn’t wondered about it herself. It was a straightforward, elegant, logical solution, and it played to her strengths.