The Spider and the Fly

by C.E. Stalbaum

  ***

  A thick, brooding silence settled over the Council Chamber as the doors swung open, but Soren Foln made it a point to keep his chin high and his steps purposeful. It was a lesson he’d learned well from a lifetime spent in bloodthirsty political circles—no matter how badly you’d been outmaneuvered, no matter what scandal you’d been accused of, it was always vital to maintain the appearance of infallibility. Some of his colleagues over the years had suggested that the rules were different when dealing with alien psychologies, but he’d never personally bought into that argument. For all their supposed differences, every alien at this table could smell fear just as easily as a human assembly. And he had no intention of giving them that opportunity.

  “Please have a seat, Lord Foln,” Zalix said softly. Judging by the unkempt ripples in his mane, he’d probably been trying to defend the Mire for a while now—and judging by the resigned tone in his voice, it wasn’t a battle he’d won. “The Council wishes to ask you a few questions.”

  “Of course,” Foln replied, sliding confidently over into the hot seat. Grier sat down next to him.

  “Allow me to put this as bluntly as possible,” Revask said. “You invited a Convectorate Spider into this sanctuary without first consulting the Council. When we insisted she be locked away, you assured us that your restraining mechanism would be adequate to control her. Now two of our citizens are dead, and their blood is on your hands.”

  “Your arrogance has brought death to this city,” Tavore added. “The question is whether you were merely incompetent…or if the failure of your control collar was intentional.”

  It was a trap, of course, since no matter how Foln answered it could be used against him. He’d wondered how long they would wait to unleash this particular line of attack, and evidently they’d decided to come out with cannons blazing. Thankfully, he had a third option under his sleeve. They wouldn’t expect him to shove Markus under the tram so easily, and while Foln would take no pleasure in doing so, it was the only chance he had to buy them more time. Besides, the fool had brought all of this upon himself.

  “The device works perfectly,” Foln said, leaning back in his chair, “but my colleague, Markus, took it upon himself to temporarily disable it.”

  Selaris abruptly leaned forward, the color draining from her face. “What?”

  “When I noticed that Vale’s escort wasn’t responding to calls, I contacted Coveri and warned him,” Grier explained. “I instructed him to disable Vale immediately, but he didn’t. Instead he deactivated the collar.”

  “You’re saying Markus was complicit in this?” Tavore asked, obviously taken aback.

  “I doubt he intended for anyone to get hurt,” Foln said, “but his recent judgment has been…questionable. He was the one who insisted we bring Vale here in the first place, after all.”

  “Markus would never hurt anyone here,” Selaris insisted, her shock quickly transforming to protective rage.

  “I didn’t say that he did,” Foln replied coolly. “I merely stated that he disabled the collar. I do not know his intentions beyond that.”

  “You haven’t spoken with him?” Urekal asked.

  “Only briefly, but he was evasive. I recommended he come to this meeting with me, but he refused. I don’t know where he is now.”

  “That…that’s impossible,” Selaris stuttered. “Markus would never do that!”

  Foln shrugged. He knew he had to be careful about how far he pushed the girl given her infatuation with Markus, but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to use the other man as a temporary shield against the Council’s rage. “I’m only telling you what I know, Your Highness. If you can find him, you can ask him yourself.”

  “You can’t deflect blame so easily,” Revask said, going back on the offensive. “Once again the Mire has bucked our laws, and this time they must be made to answer for it.”

  “Early eye witness accounts of the skirmish are contradictory at best,” Zalix put in. “We lack sufficient information to mete out any punishment. It is also entirely possible that Vale and her companion were acting in self-defense.”

  Revask turned to face the other man, his ears flattening against his head. “Does it even matter? Foln assured us that she wouldn’t be a threat, and yet here we are. Even if those men attacked Vale—which, I will note, the majority of witnesses claim was not the case—she did not have to kill them.”

  “You’re seriously suggesting that a lone human female openly assaulted a group of four males, most of which were twice her size?” Urekal asked incredulously.

  “She was not alone—the Kali was with her, lurking in the shadows with his camouflage,” Revask pointed out. “And Vale is a trained Convectorate operative with psychogenetic enhancements that significantly augment her strength and speed. She is far from helpless.”

  “It must also be noted that her escort, Mr. Firth, reported that he was subdued in a surprise attack just after Vale departed the central promenade,” Tavore added. “The Kali is the most likely suspect.”

  “We don’t know that,” Zalix said. “Mr. Firth has no specific memories of his attacker. It’s also difficult to understand what Vale or Thexyl hoped to gain by assaulting seemingly random citizens on the concourse.”

  Revask grunted. “Need I remind you they were heading for the docks? They may have been attempting to steal a shuttle.”

  “Without access codes?” Zalix asked. “Without weapons?”

  Tavore flicked her wrist in a Neyris gesture of dismissal. “Frankly, I fail to see how motive matters. The fact of the matter is that Vale attacked, and now two of our citizens are dead. We must take action.”

  Revask folded his paws on his desk. “Her powers are a threat to every living being on the station. She should be kept in stasis so that she cannot harm anyone else.”

  “She should be executed,” Tavore said flatly. “She is too dangerous to keep alive.”

  “Strange,” Foln murmured. “I thought only the Convectorate executed its citizens without trial.”

  “She is not a citizen—she is an active enemy operative. Her government wouldn’t hesitate to put any of us down given the chance, and there’s no reason we shouldn’t do the same.”

  “So you wish to emulate our enemy, then?” Zalix asked. “If I’m not mistaken, we came here to oppose the Tarreen, not to become them.”

  Tavore snorted. “Please, spare us the moralistic drivel. We should execute the Convectorate spies and lock Foln and the rest of his people away for bringing them here in the first place. The people of New Keledon demand justice.”

  Selaris shook her head. Her skin remained pale, but she seemed to have regained some of her composure. “My father would never allow that. We are better than the Convectorate.”

  “Your father is gone,” Revask said pointedly. “And he would not wish to see his city destroyed from within. The choice here is clear and obvious.”

  “Execution is out of the question,” Zalix said. “Certainly before we have definitive proof of intent.”

  Urekal nodded. “Agreed.”

  “Fine,” Revask muttered. “Then I hereby move that the Spider be kept in stasis until we have a more permanent solution in hand. And I further move that all Mire agents be placed into custody until our investigation is complete.”

  “You haven’t presented a single scrap of real evidence linking them to this crime,” Selaris told him. “We can’t imprison people for no reason!”

  “And you can’t be so naïve, girl,” Tavore replied caustically. “We cannot allow them to flee the city, not with everything that has happened and the information they possess. At a minimum they should be confined here until we finish our investigation.”

  Zalix’s mane rippled. “That is an acceptable compromise for the time being.”

  “Very well,” Revask said, his voice laced with the perfect amount of annoyed resignation. He and Tavore had both certainly known that execution was out of the question, but they’d pu
shed for it purely to make everything else sound reasonable by comparison. “We do, however, need to speak with Coveri as soon as possible. If he has turned against us, the results would be catastrophic.”

  “He hasn’t,” Selaris added softly. “If he disabled that collar, he must have had good reasons.”

  “We shall see,” Zalix said noncommittally. “In the meantime, Lord Foln, neither you nor your men are to leave this city. In fact, it would be best if you stayed in the human district for the time being.”

  “If that is the Council’s decision, we shall respect it,” Foln replied. “I recommend you conduct your investigation quickly, however, lest this situation get further out of hand.”

  “We will,” Tavore assured him. She signaled to the guards in the back of the room. “Escort Lord Foln and his aide back to the human district.”

  Two minutes later, Foln and Grier were making their way towards their apartments. An impressive crowd of angry aliens was already gathering in front of the Ecclesia, and their assigned guardsmen had to hold the mob back as the two humans slipped away across the heart of the Agora.

  “This will quickly get out of hand,” Grier warned as they walked. “The people won’t be satisfied keeping Vale in stasis—they’ll want blood.”

  “Naturally, while at the same time they claim that humans are the real monsters here,” Foln said. “The usefulness of these dregs is quickly coming to an end.”

  Her brow furrowed in confusion. “So what are we going to do? Once they find Markus, he’ll contradict what you said. I have a feeling they’ll be more inclined to believe him, especially Selaris.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Foln reached into his pocket and pulled out his holopad. “One way or another, this city is going to enter the war. I would have preferred to wait until we had the cure in hand, but this will have to do.”

  Grier frowned. “You’re contacting the Golem?”

  “Yes. The time has come for us to take the reins, Tayla.”

  “Markus won’t be happy about that,” she warned. “And neither will Selaris.”

  “Selaris will learn to accept it, and as for Markus…” Foln shrugged. “Spider or not, he’s still just one man. Either he chooses to help us, or it is time for us to reconsider our alliance with him.”

  “I’ll try to track him down. I have a feeling he’s not just going to sit back and accept the Council’s decision about Vale, either. He had that look on his face like he was about to do something stupid, maybe even attempt to bust her out.”

  “Perhaps. Frankly, getting him out of the city might be an advantage. If he’s not here when the Golem arrives, he won’t be able to slow us down with his misguided idealism.”

  Grier nodded. “Assuming he doesn’t get captured again, anyway. You know the Widow has every Spider in the galaxy looking for him.”

  “I imagine he’s learned his lesson. In any event, do what you can to find him, and you might as well go and activate out the defender mechs just in case. Keep it quiet, though—it’s probably best if they stay on the docks.”

  “You expect him to be violent?”

  “I expect us to be prepared for any contingency,” Foln clarified. “I’ll contact the Golem and then meet with Henri. If his serum is ready, I will delve into the data crystals myself.”

  “I hope Coveri was wrong about them. If the cure isn’t there…”

  “It is there,” Foln assured her. He stopped when they reached the walkway overlooking the heart of the Agora and smiled down at the growing horde of alien protestors. It was difficult not to pity them. They had just been reminded of the true power of humanity, and they were terrified.

  Just as they should be.

  “And once we have it,” Foln said softly, “the war can finally begin.”