The Spider and the Fly

by C.E. Stalbaum

  ***

  Selaris caught up to Doctor Varm just before he reached his office on the opposite side of the Agora. “Are you all right?” she asked, gently touching his arm.

  “I’ll be fine,” he assured her with a forced smile. He was still shaking, and his eyes were bloodshot. “I just need to lie down for a few minutes.”

  She glanced back over her shoulder to the Ecclesia. “He’s wrong. You can’t start giving this serum to the soldiers.”

  “Everything will be all right,” Varm replied mechanically. “You should head back home and work on that speech of yours.”

  Selaris turned back to face him, the hairs on the back of her neck tingling. Had Foln implanted a compulsion in Varm’s mind somehow? It didn’t seem possible. How could he have learned such an advanced technique so quickly? Markus had said that advanced telepathic suggestion was incredibly difficult, and as a result it was one of the last skills the Spiders learned to perfect. But then, it didn’t seem like Foln should have any psionic ability whatsoever, let alone the impressive talents he’d already demonstrated…

  “You said yourself this isn’t a cure,” Selaris reminded him. “It’s more like a drug or a stimulant. So what’s going to happen when you inject this into a bunch of soldiers and they can’t control their abilities? What’s going to happen when they inevitably come down?”

  Varm remained silent as they walked into the hospital and took the lift to his office. With the largest crowds of aliens already beaten back into their home districts, the Mire had left only a skeleton crew back here to defend the various buildings in the Agora, and right now Selaris was grateful for the privacy.

  “You didn’t answer me,” she prompted.

  He sighed and leaned over his desk. “There’s nothing to say. Soren has lost his mind, and there’s not a damn thing any of us can do about it.”

  Selaris breathed a faint sigh of relief. That sounded like the real doctor, at least. “I don’t understand how he can be so powerful,” she murmured. “Markus said it takes years for most Spider recruits to develop their abilities.”

  “The Foln family legacy is a strong one. That must have something to do with it.”

  “The Gantrell legacy is just as strong, and look at me,” she countered. “Markus told me I have all this untapped talent, but it’s taken me years just to be able to sleep normally. Even father never learned more than remedial telepathy.”

  The old man’s thoughts abruptly hiccupped, and Selaris’s brow furrowed in confusion. She hadn’t even been trying to read his mind, but it was like his brain had reflexively flicked on a warning klaxon at the mere mention of her father. What could he possibly have to do with any of this? And why was Varm even thinking about him?

  “I don’t have an explanation,” the doctor said, “but without Markus here there’s nothing we can do.”

  “Don’t synthesize the serum,” she told him. “Foln’s not a doctor; he won’t be able to replicate it without you. You could even delete the data if you wanted to. I can’t imagine he’d actually harm you.”

  Varm spun back around to face her. “Weren’t you paying attention back there? He’ll do whatever it takes to get the job done. I’ve known him for almost fifty years. Once he’s made a decision, that’s all there is to it.”

  Selaris glanced over to the bio-table and the cold storage samples sitting atop it. “How long do the effects last? Couldn’t you destroy what’s here and hide until it wears off?”

  “Assuming he can’t just pick my mind out of a crowd, maybe,” Varm said. “I’m not willing to take that chance.”

  “But you are willing to poison a few dozen Mire soldiers and endanger thousands of people who live here?”

  “It’s not that simple, my dear. I wish it were, but…” He sighed and pressed his face into his hands. “There are days I wish I’d never started this project. It’s caused nothing but trouble since the beginning.”

  “My father was excited about it. He thought it was our best real chance of a breakthrough.”

  “Yes,” Varm whispered. “I know.”

  The alarm in his mind went off again, this time even more loudly than before. Given what he’d just been through—and given how angry Selaris had been at Foln for doing it—it was probably a bad idea to push against him with her remedial telepathic abilities. But if she could just physically touch him, perhaps it would give her a quick peek…

  She stepped over and placed her right hand against his head. “Hold still.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Seeing if there’s any lingering damage,” she said, synching her mind with his nervous system. None of the neural wounds seemed permanent, and she did what she could to convince his pain receptors to take a break. “Better?”

  He nodded. “Yes. I’m not actually a feeble old man, you know. I still have some life left in me.”

  “Then why don’t you tell me why you’re thinking about my father?”

  For a second his brow furrowed in confusion, but then his eyes belatedly shot open when he realized what she was doing. “Selaris,” he said in his most parental tone. “Stop it. Now.”

  She almost held on. She wanted to, desperately. The truth was in there, squirming around inside him, and if she maintained contact just a bit longer she could probably flush it out…

  Sighing, Selaris released her grip and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she breathed. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “You’re damn right you shouldn’t have,” Varm grumbled, rubbing his arm. “You can’t just go around prying into people’s heads.”

  “Then why don’t you tell me what I want to know? What does my father have to do with any of this?”

  The doctor sighed. “Nothing. Davin thought it was a good idea, just like you said. He never wasted time pining after the Damadus or any other miracle cure; he always believed we’d have to do everything ourselves.”

  Even without physically touching him, Selaris could feel a torrent of pain and regret gushing out of him despite his best efforts to seal the leak. “You’re lying,” she whispered. “There’s something else you’re not telling me.”

  “Stay out of my head, girl!” he snapped, backing up against his lab table.

  She tried to pull away, but the memories were bombarding her now whether she wanted them to or not. Most of them were flashing by too quickly for her to process, but through the barely decipherable chaos she managed to latch onto a single phrase—and suddenly it was all Selaris could do not to lunge forward and clutch Varm by the throat until he told her what it meant.

  “Landai’s Syndrome,” she rasped. “What does that have to do with the serum?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Varm insisted, scowling. “Now get the hell out of here and start working on your damn speech.”

  Selaris shook her head, the storm of thoughts and memories continuing to rage around her. Most of it was pure gibberish, but she held onto the one phrase—Landai’s Syndrome—and swung it around the cloud of memories like an electrostatic wand gathering dust particles. Soon more images began to coalesce around her, and she sifted through them—

  And there it was, buried behind an old shield of guilt and regret.

  “You killed him,” she breathed. Her knees buckled and she collapsed backwards onto the lab floor. “Revask was right…you killed him.”

  Varm’s entire face twitched, and he clutched at his head as if his leaking thoughts were a geyser he could seal. But the damage was done, and it didn’t take him long to realize it. The oppressive guilt pressing down upon him lifted, and a faint wisp of resigned relief took its place.

  “You don’t understand,” he rasped. “We were in the early stages of soropan research, and I needed more samples to continue my work. Your father volunteered—he knew how important it was. We had no idea that taking the samples would accelerate his disease.”

  “But when you found out, you didn’t stop! You didn’t even tell him
about it!”

  Varm swallowed heavily. “I wanted to. I told Soren we couldn’t keep it up, but he insisted. The acceleration had already begun. Even if we never took another sample from him, Davin was going to die in another two years, maybe three. But a successful cure…that would change the course of the future.”

  Selaris tried to swallow the lump in her throat and nearly choked. “There were thousands of other humans in the city. Why not take samples from them?”

  “I did, but you have to remember that all of them had already been afflicted with the Pandrophage. Their bodies were only producing trace amounts of the hormone. The only people here with a significant supply were your father, Markus…and you.”

  “And you didn’t want to risk Markus,” she reasoned, the lump melting into noxious bile. “He was your superweapon, your queen card against the Tarreen. You couldn’t afford to lose him. But me…” Her jaw clenched. “Why not me?”

  Varm closed his eyes. “You’d just come out of your coma, and we didn’t want to risk a relapse. Markus had told us of your potential, and Soren agreed that you were too important to the future of our race.”

  “No,” Selaris said. “No, that’s not it at all. Foln didn’t care about me, but he knew that once father was dead I’d take his place on the Council. And he believed he could manipulate me to get what he wanted…”

  Her voice died and her eyes fastened shut. The Mire had been invited to New Keledon because her father had believed it was the only way to save her. Since then, the alliance had brought them almost nothing but grief. Foln’s actions had placed the city on the verge of civil war, and despite the warnings of the other councilors, she had enabled him to do it.

  “I’m sorry, Your Highness,” Varm said. “It was a mistake. A grievous mistake. I’ve always wanted to tell you, but…”

  “But you were too much of a coward, so you lied to me instead. You let Foln use me to get whatever he wanted. And now....” Selaris reopened her eyes and glared at him through her tears. “Now this city is burning, and you’re willing to make it worse.”

  He tilted away and pressed a hand to his forehead. “Like I said, it’s not that simple.”

  “Yes, it is,” she growled, sealing off the pain behind a wall of anger. “You were a coward then, and you’re still a coward now. You refuse to stand up to him, even when you know he’s wrong.”

  “That’s not fair,” he protested. “You don’t understand—”

  “I understand perfectly,” Selaris said, standing. “I understand that I’m sick of being treated like a child. I understand that I’m done being lied to!”

  “You can’t stop him,” Varm warned. “He doesn’t want to hurt you, but he will if he believes it’s necessary. Without Markus here, there’s nothing we can do.”

  “I’ve spent most of my life doing nothing,” she grumbled as she walked over to the keypad on the wall and punched in a series of commands. “It’s time for that to change.”

  The doctor brought himself to his feet and frowned. “What are you doing?”

  “Activating the lab’s emergency burnout protocols,” she told him. “It will destroy every trace of that stuff. That’s the only way to keep Foln from getting his hands on it.”

  Varm’s eyes flicked to his work and then back to her. “You can’t do that.”

  “Why? You just said you wished you’d never started this project. Well, this is the next best thing.”

  “At least if we put it to use against the Tarreen, your father won’t have died for nothing,” he said. “I’ll talk to Soren again after he’s cooled down. If I can convince him to let me do a bit more research, there’s still hope.”

  Selaris turned away from the panel to face him. “Do you even hear what you’re saying? You just told me a minute ago that he won’t listen to reason. This is the only way.”

  His expression sank, and after a few more seconds he walked back over to his desk and leaned against it. “Your Highness, please. Step away from the console.”

  Ignoring him, she finished typing in the rest of the commands. The console beeped out an automated alert and prompted her for the final security code.

  “Get away from the console!” Varm repeated, more forcefully this time. His hand slipped inside one of the desk drawers, and when it reappeared it was clasping a pulse pistol.

  Selaris stared disbelievingly at the weapon. “You won’t shoot me,” she said. “You’re not Foln—you know that this is wrong.”

  The doctor’s lip quivered, and flicked off the weapon’s safety. “Step away, Your Highness,” he ordered, his voice barely a whisper. “I won’t ask again.”

  Her hand trembled against the cold metal console. She could feel the severity in his thoughts—as hard as it was for her to believe, he might have actually been willing to pull the trigger. But if she stepped away, then New Keledon was doomed. It might not collapse overnight, but sooner or later Foln’s insanity would consume them all…unless she put an end to it right here, right now.

  Clamping down hard on her lower lip, Selaris turned back to the console and input the authorization code. She was halfway through when Varm shot her in the back.

  The floor rushed up to greet her as every muscle in her body gave out at once, and she smacked against the tile with an audible slap. She tried to scream, but nothing came out except for a startled wheeze. Her arms and legs were locked in place; she couldn’t even close her gaping mouth.

  “I’m sorry, my dear, but you left me no choice,” Varm whispered. Distantly, she heard him set the gun back down on the desk and fiddle with something else. “Soren wants you working on your speech, but right now it’s probably best if you just took a little nap…at least until I’m done here.”

  Selaris tried to scream again, but the results were the same. An oppressive wave of fatigue washed over her, and she fought desperately against the urge to succumb. If Varm injected her with a sedative, then this was all over. Foln would get his serum, and the injected Mire soldiers would wreak havoc across the city. She needed to focus and find a way to summon her powers before it was too late.

  Closing her eyes, she reached out and attempted to take control of her own nervous system. She understood exactly how the stun blast worked to disable most creatures, and in theory that meant she knew how to fight it, too. All she needed to do was convince her nerves to give up their vice grip on her muscles…

  “We’ll talk about this again later,” Varm said as he slid up behind her. “And for what it’s worth, I really am sorry about Davin. He was a good man and a better friend. But no matter what else happens, we can’t let the Tarreen win this. I know he’d understand that.”

  She tried again to move her arms. They twitched, albeit barely, but it would have to be enough. She waited until she felt the cold metal of the injector against her skin—

  Screaming at the top of her lungs, Selaris rolled over as hard as she could. Varm stumbled to the side and had to catch himself before he smacked face-first against the floor. She still couldn’t move, at least not enough to actually escape, but now that she could see him she didn’t need to. Summoning her powers again, she wrapped a telekinetic hand around his body and hurled him across the room.

  He crashed through one of the lab tables, and his collection of storage containers and datapads scattered about the room. Selaris grimaced and pressed her eyes shut, continuing her healing regimen until she could move more or less normally. It took another thirty seconds at least, but by the time she was finally able to hop back to her feet Varm still hadn’t moved. She stretched out and sucked the pistol from his desk into her palm, then slowly strode toward him.

  “I should shoot you right now,” she growled. “You’re a murderer, you and Foln both!”

  He didn’t respond, and after a moment of glaring down at his body, she realized she couldn’t see him breathing. She leapt forward to check for a pulse…

  He was dead. A small pool of blood had already gathered at the base of his skull
, and his eyes were fastened wide at the ceiling. Selaris shook her head, and the pistol slipped out of her grip and clattered against the floor.

  She had killed him. She hadn’t meant to, but she had killed him. The kindly old man who had spent the last two years doing everything he could to help treat her. The patient tutor who had given her free access to his medical records and spent countless hours teaching her everything about his profession.

  The coward who had murdered her father.

  She clamped her hands over her mouth as a surge of white-hot rage burned away her guilt. Varm deserved it. He deserved worse, and so did Foln. They were murderers and traitors, both of them. They had abused her father’s trust and corrupted what had once been a prosperous sanctuary. And now…

  Selaris forced herself to swallow as she glanced up to the lab equipment. No matter what else happened here, she couldn’t let them synthesize more of the serum. That was all that really mattered…and there was only one way to prevent it.

  Pivoting back to the security panel on the wall, she entered the last sequence. The alarm klaxons blared the moment she slipped out of the room, and the containment fields flashed into place as the automated countdown began. Thirty seconds later, a blazing inferno consumed the lab, the serum, and what was left of Henri Varm.

  But Selaris was no longer there to see it.