A Season For Slaughter Part 62
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"Wh-what d-do you want me to d-do now?"
"I want you to climb up inside the, wreckage of the s.h.i.+p. Can you do that?"
"I'm climbing," she said. "It's very d-dark in here. There's b-broken's-stuff everywhere. The skin of th-the s.h.i.+p is hanging over everything. I c-can't see very w-well."
"Turn on the lights, Dwan. You have lights. Turn them on."
"I d-don't know how to do that."
"Think them on. Think about the lights in your head. Feel them. Think where they are. That's right. Good. Now think them on. That's the way. Are they on?"
Dwan's face brightened. "I can see b-better now. I fixed my eyes too. I c-can see different colors. It's p-prettier this way."
"Good girl." I squeezed her hands. "Where are you now?"
"I'm in a c-corridor, I think. It l-looks like the running't-track. It's very long, b-but it's all b-broken up."
"Is there room to walk?"
"No. It's all crunched in. You'd have to crawl down real low-"
"Dwan, remember, you're a prowler now. Can you get through as a prowler?"
Dwan's face focused and cleared. She nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah. I can g-get through." She flexed her fingers experimentally. "Can I use m-my hands?"
"Yes!" I practically shouted in her face. "Yes, good girl! That's very smart."
"I'm going forward n-now."
"Good, see how fast you can go. I want you to head for the main lounge, okay?"
"Okay, s.h.i.+m."
"I want you to look for the main staircase-"
"The corridor b-breaks here, s.h.i.+m. Should I come back?"
"No!" I realized I was shouting. I lowered my voice. "No, don't come back. Is there a way across? A way around?" Dwan frowned, thinking hard.
"Look carefully, Dwan."
She was sweating profusely. Tiny drops were glistening on her forehead. She was getting very red in the face. "I c-can't go any f-farther, s.h.i.+m. It's b-broken."
"It's very important, Dwan."
Tears of frustration started to pool in her eyes. "I c-can't see any way."
She didn't have the advantage of her augment here. The same circuitry was needed to simulate the VR experience. And she couldn't figure this out without help.
"What do you see, Dwan?"
"There's a b-branch that c-came cras.h.i.+ng through everything-it's a b-big't-twisty one."
"Can you cross on the branch?"
"It's too n-narrow for m-me-"
"You're a prowler. You have grabby claws instead of hands, remember?"
"Oh, yeah-yeah!" Her face brightened. She worked her hands in front of me for a moment. Little clutching motions. "I think I c-can-yes, s.h.i.+m, I can d-do it. I'm crossing. I'm in the other p-part of the s.h.i.+p n-now. I'm in the c-corridor again. This part isn't so broken. I c-can run. It feels g-good. I'm not allowed to run m-most times-"
"You're doing fine-that's my good girl. Be careful."
"I'm careful."
"All right, I want you to go to the forward lounge, Dwan. Can you find it?"
"Everything's real b-broken up, real b-bad-I can't g-go any f-farther. I have to go around-oh, I c-can climb up through-yes, that works. Here's a hole. It opens up.
It's all b-broken, b-but there's room to climb over everything. I can keep going-oh!"
"What?"
"I found a body."
"Who is it?"
"It's a's-soldier. She w-was pretty too." Dwan started to whimper. "Sh-she's all b-broken."
"Dwan, listen to me. Is there a dog tag around her neck?"
"Y-yes."
"Take it. You have special hands for taking pieces of things. Take the dog tags.
Can you do that?"
Dwan frowned for a moment. "I've g-got them. Okay?"
"Good girl. Who is it? Read me the name on the tags."
"L-lopez. Her n-name was L-lopez. M-macha Hernandez L-lopez."
s.h.i.+t. For a moment, I couldn't speak. I knew what had happened. Lopez had been looking for General Tirelli, and-and something had happened.
"All right," I said, recovering myself. "Where are you?"
"I'm on the m-main deck now. The c-corridors are c-crumpled. I can't g-go any f-farther, s.h.i.+m."
"Yes, you can. You're very strong now. You can pull the walls apart if you have to. I want you to pull the walls apart and keep going forward, okay?"
"Okay, s.h.i.+m-" After a minute, she added, "This is f-fun."
"Be careful, watch out in case anybody's alive. I want you to watch for the main lounge, okay?"
"Okay. There's a l-lot of j -jungle in here. Everything slants d-down and there's a l-lot of't-trees and's-stuff poking up through the floor. I guess-oops, that's a big hole."
"How deep is it?"
"It goes a l-long way d-down. But I see a w-way to climb d-down if I have to-I c-could g-get out here."
"Good. Remember this hole. I want you to come back this way."
"Do you w-want me to c-come b-back now?"
"No, I want you to keep looking for Lizard. Find the main lounge."
"Okay. I'm g-going up again. It's a little steep here, but I can m-manage it. I'm using m-my claws. This is f-fun. Wait a m-minute-"
"What are you doing?"
"I'm c-cutting a hole so I c-can g-get through-" She was silent a minute, but her face contorted furiously as she worked. "Okay, I'm f-fine-" She stopped. She frowned. "What's-smells purple?"
"Look around, sweetheart. What do you see?"
"Um-there's a lot of water here. Something m-must have leaked. I hear n-noises.
Chewing n-noises. There's b-bugs in the air. Lots of b-bugs. Stingflies, I think they're called. And-ouch!" She looked annoyed and slapped at something. "One of those m-millipedie things. I stomped it."
"Don't use-" I kept myself from finis.h.i.+ng the sentence.
"Don't use what?"
"Uh, nothing. It's fine. Just keep going." I wasn't sure I wanted her to think about the weapons in the prowler. Not yet. Maybe it was better if she didn't know they were there; then she wouldn't be tempted to use them.
"Oh," she said, abruptly.
"'What?"
"I found out what's-smells purple."
"What does?"
"It's a w-worm," she said. "It's the one that ate Lieutenant Siegel. It's looking at m-me. It's very b-big. I think it's hungry." And then Dwan started to cry.
A related theory of gastropede reproduction also postulates that retired gastropedes are breeding queens, but in this theory, the queen gastropede does not lay its eggs; instead, it stores them within its body as tumoroid growths.
According to this theory, at some point in time, through some still-unknown mechanism, the eggs are all awakened at the same time; they hatch, and the infant gastropedes begin eating the mother's flesh and any of their siblings they chance upon. But unlike the jellypig young, the goal here is not to break free as quickly as possible, but to remain inside the protection provided by the mother's body. In this scenario, the young gastropedes are best served by feeding and growing within the parent for as long as possible, gaining as much size and strength as they can, until the hosting parent finally dies and they must emerge to survive on their own.
The primary advantage of this reproductive strategy is that the young are provided with an ample food supply and considerable protection during the earliest, most vulnerable phase of life.
The major disadvantage to this reproductive strategy is that it denies the emerging creature access to pareirtal nurturing. a.s.suming that these animals are capable of at least a primatelevel of intelligence, a corresponding need for imprinting, bonding, and tribal learning is irnplied. This means that the gastropede society must provide another mechanism for civilizing the young and teaching them appropriate social interactions within the mandala nest.
Critics of this theory argue that it is bad strategy to discard the natural advantages of mother-child bonding.
Proponents counter that the resultant bonding-gap explains the high number of feral individuals that have been found in areas around mandala settlements.
Other adherents to this theory argue that the continual tending of the queen, the act of communion with the mother, all the surrounding grooming and singing activities of the smaller members of the nest, serve to imprint the young while they're still inside the parent's body. Additionally, it is believed that the gastropede and the jeflypig are closely related forms-as closely related as humans and chimpanzees-and that therefore they must have similar reproduction strategies.
The only physical evidence to validate this thesis is the violently chewed remains of a retired gastropede found in a scourged nest. It should be noted, however, that other explanations for the death of the creature are also under investigation.
-The Red Book, (Release 22.19A)
Chapter 80.
Purple b.u.t.ter "A man's best friend is his dogma."
-SOLOMON SHORT.
Abruptly, somebody grabbed my shoulder and pulled me rudely away from Dwan. Dr. Shreiber was screaming in my ear, "What the h.e.l.l are you doing?"
"Don't interfere with me, Doctor-"
She was already fumbling for her all-purpose hypo. This woman had one cure for everything anesdotize the patient.
I decided not to waste time explaining. I grabbed her leg and yanked, then hammer-slugged the side of her head. I missed badly; she rolled away from me, kicking back at me. Dwan was screaming in panic. I had the disadvantage of not being able to rise, but I had the advantage of my rage. I grabbed Dr. Shreiber's foo~ and pulled, yanked her toward me, chopping sideways with one hand at her belly-missed again-the woman was good; but while she was trying to lever herself into position for a kick, I managed somehow to lift myself up and pull her down under me.
The position was wrong, but I didn't have a choice, I knee-dropped onto her solar plexus before she could kick me in the recreation zone. The pain in my leg was horrendous; like the sound of a bomb going off inside my body. I couldn't rise up, I was sprawled on top of her. She was either going to go for my eyes or my ears, or pop me up off of her and rip out my t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es. I had no advantage-not surprise, not strength, not training. I grabbed her windpipe and squeezed. It would have been very easy to rip it out-but I didn't want to kill her. Now I had her, but I couldn't let go. I couldn't continue and I couldn't stop. Oh, s.h.i.+t.
"Dr. Shreiber," I said, gasping around the pain. "We're going after General Tirelli.
Dwan is acting as terminal. Let me pull Lizard out, and you can do anything you want. You can lobotomize me. Try to stop me and I'll kill you. I'll feed you to your own worms. What's it gonna be?" I gave her throat a squeeze.
She gurgled her response.
"What? I didn't understand that." I eased up just a little bit. She said it again. I still didn't understand it, but the emotion behind it was unmistakable. I was going to have to kill her. s.h.i.+t.
Dwan was still screaming. "The worms! The w-worms are coming!"
I forgot Dr. Shreiber. I grabbed Dwan's hands and pulled her close. I slapped her face. "It can't hurt you! You're a prowler." Dwan's expression crumpled, but she blinked and realized she was safe with me. "It c-can't get to me, c-can it?"
I grabbed her hands again. "Stay with it, Dwan. You're doing fine. No, it can't get to you. But you can get to it. You're stronger now. Just follow my instructions. Will you do that?"
A Season For Slaughter Part 62
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A Season For Slaughter Part 62 summary
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