The Planet Dweller
Page 23
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Perched on the edge of a cliff behind a boulder just light enough for him to move and heavy enough to crush a Torran, Kulp waited with fanatical patience for his prey to lope past. With impeccable precision, Kulp sent the heavenly gift tumbling down to crush Dax at the instant she was directly beneath. Kulp was already celebrating so he didn’t bother to look over the edge of the cliff to see the result of his handiwork right away, preferring to relish the moment like old brandy.
When his three-toed feet had stopped springing him up and down in delight, Kulp’s pink features poked themselves over the edge to savour the sight of a squashed Dax.
With injured innocence, Dax was standing amongst the remains of the shattered boulder, looking back up at her attacker with something resembling pity for his mental condition.
Logic had always been Kulp’s strong point, and this last incident had no place in it. He had hit her. He couldn’t have missed, and when the furry creature called up to him, ‘Look, I know you’re enjoying yourself, but I really can’t stop to play any more,’ he launched himself from the cliff to see if he could do what the boulder hadn’t.
Dax stepped aside so he could break his fall on the shattered boulder, then looked down at the breathless body. ‘There’s no need to take it so badly. I’ve got to get back now. Time must be getting short.’
The genetic engineers had designed his bones to be as strong as steel, but Kulp felt his internal organs judder about inside him and his brain cells slop around in his skull. He hauled himself to his feet, wondering whether his increasing insanity would be contagious to the self-sure Torran. Something in that addled soup of his mind must have told him that this Dax was not the one he had known and loved to hate. Nevertheless, he could take satisfaction in despising this one even more.
‘I suppose you might be a little happier if you were to become your normal colour again?’
Kulp wasn’t sure what she had said at first. He was listening to his own thoughts preparing her destruction.
‘Would you calm down if you were to return to that indelicate shade of green?’
Kulp could hardly believe his ears. Hating this creature was obviously getting him nowhere except painfully dented. Then a glimmer of lucid thought snapped open a part of his brain that had never functioned before. It had been deliberately left undeveloped by the genetic engineers for fear of it weakening the species. Could he be the first Olmuke for millions of years to hear its faint cry? ‘Why bother to waste all this energy on hate?’ it asked. ‘Can’t you find better things to engage your huge intellect?’ Kulp wasn’t able to answer it right away as the idea was such a novelty. He above all others had managed to control his emotions with cool malice, and any sentiments managing to escape through the veneer had more to do with greed than benevolence. This surely couldn’t be the only priority available to an excellent mind like his.
Dax’s furry hand flicked swiftly in front of the Olmuke’s pink face.
Kulp felt the tickle of change go through him. He raised his hands and saw that they had reverted back to their normal green. He pounced on the nearest rock with a vein of reflecting crystal running through it, and saw that his face was its normal ugly colour. Kulp’s immediate reaction was to wonder what the catch was, but then, a creature with that sort of power didn’t need to be devious like him. Then the thought of thoughts filtered through his mind. Should he or should he not cease being Kulp the unspeakable, and become Kulp the reasonable?
The enormity of his own potential encouraged the green super-being to assess those avenues that his mind had always shuttered off before. There, twinkling like new star systems, hung clusters of tempting invitations. They begged him to contrive the execrable in the name of that mystic cult of justice the Torrans had adopted. If they could do outrageous things in the name of justice and be revered for it, why not he? Thanks to the Mott, he was wealthy enough to afford the luxury of morals. Kulp knew he had no hope of transforming into anything like one of the ethereally innocent creatures which lived in lace webs, were born and died in a puff of vapour, lived off clean thoughts, and minded their business so well few had ever seen one. Nevertheless, he resolved to put his evil ideas to a good use. What were good and evil if not a matter of opinion anyway? One just made a quicker return than the other.
With the change of mind came a flutter of euphoria that substituted for the rapturous elation most others would have experienced at seeing the light. Kulp liked the sensation. Reassured that there was no dishonour in capitulating to any creature a thousand times more menacing than himself, Kulp decided he could also afford the luxury of staying alive while the offer still stood.
His returning presence of mind told him that these creatures were not to be trifled with like the usual run of galaxy hoi polloi. They were potentially so dangerous and indestructible he would have to control any latent urge to betray them should it ever cross his mind. If he didn’t show some signs of moderate behaviour, he could well end up spinning in space like the doomed Moosevan.
Although she was in a hurry to return to more important matters, Dax hesitated to evaluate the changing thoughts of Kulp. If they revolved sufficiently to her way of seeing things, he might well be worth recruiting. For a greedy, ruthless, genetically manipulated specimen, he did have a remarkably useful brain. If its encounter with her hadn’t left it with irreversible damage, it might well prove invaluable.
‘Do you want to join your friends now?’ Dax asked to measure his reaction.
‘I’d only have to kill them if I did, and that would be a waste of energy.’
‘Would you like to kill them?’
‘No need. They don’t know enough about the net to operate it. They’re bound to kill themselves when they try.’
That was half way to what Dax wanted to hear. She raised a long finger to caution him. ‘With us there is no deceit. While you are weighing up the benefits of being trustworthy, remember that.’
‘All right,’ Kulp agreed. ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘You must realign the beacons and arm the terminals in their correct sequence,’ Dax told him. His bottom jaw dropped. ‘If they are fired in the sequence your friends have programmed they will not only destroy this planet, but themselves as well.’
‘I’d have to kill them to get near, though,’ protested Kulp.
‘That will not be necessary. As they are preparing the device for the final countdown, we’ll have to move quickly.’
Still puzzled, though not ungrateful for being given the chance to realise the potential tucked secretly away in his brain for so many years, Kulp listened compliantly to his instructions.