Paragenesis: Stories of the Dawn of Wraeththu (27 page)

*Finished playing with
yourself yet?*
asked Ashlem, his sending coloured with tender
amusement and a hint of worry that tasted of peaches and cream.

*Yes*
I replied
instinctively, no longer needing to form pictures of my words

*Good*

*Hey! I’m able to talk
direct!*

*You are Wraeththu now. Our
minds are on the same frequency, I don’t have to boost my sendings
to punch through all that human sludge you were using for a
mind*

A nasty embarrassing thought
occurred to me.
*Was I broadcasting?*

*Just a bit*

Suddenly something clicked into
place, *Hang on, so all the Wraeththu are....?*

*We’re an entire new species,
Sixteen, and that’s the secret we have to hide. If humanity
realises it’s no longer top of the food chain, it will go badly for
us all.*

I was immediately flooded with
more new desires, thinking of people… of beings, like myself. Along
with it came distaste for human things.

*This is so weird. I don’t even
think like me* I sent.

*It’s understandable. You also
have new instincts, which you aren’t used to yet. At this stage
you’re a bit like a newborn, your mind doesn’t have any inhibitions
on the soume side of your character*

*Soume? What’s that?*

*The female role you haven’t
tried yet.*

*Is that why I feel like a dog
in heat?* I asked.

*Don’t worry. The state you are
in is temporary. It’s partly instinct driven; your body knows that
it hasn’t finished changing yet *

*There’s more?*
I sent,
fearful of being ripped apart a second time.

*Our blood can create new
Wraeththu, but the change doesn’t stabilize until the new one
has... (Here I felt his sending glow with compassion) ...umm ‘used’
that new equipment of his.*

I like to think I was pretty
quick on the uptake, despite being a wild hormonal soup right then.
*So basically you have to rape me pretty fucking soon or I
revert to being the old me?*
I let the rage I’d been holding
back roar outwards.

*No. There is no ‘old you’.
Failure will mean death.*

Well that one certainly dumped
cold water on my feelings of vengeance and hope of a recovery.

*Great. Just fucking great. How
long have I got?*

*Plenty of time. But you need
to be ready. If they put any two of us in the same room you are
going to have to get it on fast. Hardly the romantic ideal
unfortunately...*

*Any two? So the others
survived?*
I remembered that shard of memory about an
autopsy.

*The others haven’t completed
their transformation yet, at least as far as I can tell. Jeaki is
out of range and I never had a contact link with the others. If
they did as I told them, they’ll be with us eventually.*

*And if they all die? I’m
pretty sure two of them died*

*If they don’t make it, then
I’ll have to demonstrate yet more of those superpowers I don’t have
to get to you. Sixteen, I know you don’t think much of me right
now, but I promise you, I’ll do all I can to get you through
this.*

I firmly folded my arms and
tried to focus something else… not what....what... I now was. I was
me; I was still me, wasn’t I?

There is a limit to how long a
person can just lie in bed feeling sorry for himself; particularly
when, actually, they feel healthier than they have done in years.
In the end it was hunger that motivated me.

I guess my mental state was
even more fragile than I’d thought, being faced by a cafeteria full
of humans made me want to puke and run. They stank!

Conversation stopped as I
entered the room. None of them wanted to talk to me about it, but
it was plain that the disastrous test was the only topic on any of
their minds; at least as far as my paranoid mind was concerned. It
was hard seeing our usual table empty. It didn’t help that the food
was off. The cereal had a tinny metallic taste and the milk smelled
bad. In the end, I settled for raiding the entire supply of fruit
and munching my way through a dozen oranges and six bananas,
(including the skins).

“The serum must have screwed up
my tastebuds” I explained to no one in particular. “The oranges are
the only things that taste normal.”

Everyone who’d been pretending
not to watch quickly became engrossed in their meals. Annoyed, I
grabbed the other fruit bowl and headed for my room, finishing off
another three oranges as I waited for the damn elevator.

As if telepathic herself, Ms
Jenson appeared at my side to inform me the Director would see me
in 30 minutes. Something about the way she spoke seemed ‘off’.

“What’s wrong?” I asked,
chewing a delicious banana skin

“You don’t remember?”

There was a feeling of vertigo;
an abyss was at my feet. There’d been deaths, more than one for
certain. “Not much, just fragments, I think I remember Sarah
died.”

“I’m so sorry James. It’s just
you left… and …they think Jeaki might make it.”

My fist slammed into the metal
door putting a dent in it. “Sixteen. My name is Sixteen.”

The door closed between us. All
of them dead? The darkness howled around my mind trying to make me
think about inevitable death. There was also a profound sadness,
they would never get to experience how it felt being Wraeththu,
they would have loved it. If only I’d persuaded them not to eat… or
if… or if…

*Talk to me Ashlem*
I
thought, trying to distract myself.

*Sixteen*
Came the
instant reply, as if he’d been waiting for me.
*What do you want
to know?*

*Plumbing first, do I stand
or sit?*
I said, focusing on the practicalities.

His laughter bubbled through
me, forcing me to see the humour, even then during my darkest
moment. His compassionate emotions could probably heal the deepest
wounds, given time.

*Of all the questions, I’d
expected...* sent Ashlem *ok, ok, sorry... you needn’t worry. It’s
your choice, and I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it... with
practice.*

I sent him an emotional
dagger-glare but couldn’t sustain it. It felt like a huge relief to
talk to someone who truly understood what I was going through. I
hadn’t forgiven him, he’d clearly had his own agenda, but any plans
I might have had of actually murdering him, were getting less
likely with every passing minute.

I fired off a few more
questions, trying to understand what I was now. For example the
problem with the taste of the food was because it was processed.
Apparently, my new tastebuds were picking up traces of engine oil
and detergent. Nice.

*Enough....* Ashlem sent,
finally. *I can only sustain this link for short periods. Have you
heard anything about the others?*

*Jeaki’s still changing. The
others, they’re all dead*
I replied grimly, trying not to think
about the howling void their deaths left in my mind and heart.

*I see.*
I got the sense
that he regretted the deaths of my friends but was treating it like
he’d expected it.
*Do they still trust you?*

*I’m invited to see the
Director. They wouldn’t let me near him if they thought I was a
risk.*

*Use that; insist on seeing us,
me or Jeaki, or both. Remember, you aren’t stable yet, you have to
meet one of us.* As he spoke, the strength of his telepathy
faded.

I sat still for a few seconds
more. It would be quite logical for me to be concerned about Jeaki,
I reasoned. It didn’t all have to be about the other thing. I still
didn’t want to think about that.

Some minutes later, I was
standing outside Calcutt’s office, looking at that not-dead
guard.

His name badge said Stanislav.
He took one look at me and clearly decided that I was the enemy. I
could smell the hatred oozing from his pores. I no longer fitted
into the CGS man’s comfort zone and I could almost feel him willing
me to give him an excuse.

It really was annoying, this
‘attack anything you don’t understand’ thing that the CGS had going
on.

The last time I’d been in
Calcutt’s office, I’d feared the Director and what his opinion of
me might be, but this time I took the chair and slouched, legs
crossed at the ankle. Gupta was in there too.

“How do you feel today, Mr
Conway?” he asked.

I didn’t answer for a few
seconds, partly because I wanted to figure out the answer for
myself, and partly because I’d realised that I had no intention of
helping Calcutt ever again. “Better” I said finally.

“Please be more specific,”
Gupta urged.

“You wouldn’t understand”

“Try,” snapped Calcutt.

“Better in every way
imaginable, except that obvious one” I said.

“You aren’t upset that we’ve
done this to you?” Gupta asked.

I thought hard about that one
as well. “Most of my friends are dead. I haven’t had time to get my
head around that yet. As for what you’ve done to my body, I’m
getting used to it... gradually. If you want any more data then we
need to cut a new deal. You seem to have me under armed guard.” I
flicked a meaningful glare in Stanislav’s direction. “That isn’t
anywhere in my contract, particularly given what just
happened.”

“Sub-section 6 paragraph 3.”
replied Director Calcutt. “Should the specimen become mentally ill,
the Institute shall provide suitable long term accommodation and
care.”

“You think I’m insane?” I asked
frostily

“Honestly, probably not. But
the scans we’ve taken don’t match anything remotely close to those
we took from you last week. We need to understand what that means.
There may be... implications.”

This was so tedious and
unsubtle; I couldn’t believe that he was trying to intimidate me
like that. “So, let’s see, what works best, you threatening me with
a padded cell, or a civilised renegotiation and my full
co-operation?”

Calcutt paused. He’d assumed
that I was still the easily manipulated door-mat that I’d been when
we’d first met. I wasn’t.

“Here’s what I want,” I
continued “First, lose the security guard. Second, I want
unrestricted access to Jeaki and Ashlem, and third, you are going
to pay the compensation I’m owed, at the rate set out in the
original contract. Agree to that, and I’ll cooperate.”

To my surprise he actually went
for it. In fact he agreed so fast I began to worry that I’d missed
something… which of course I had.

An hour later Stanislav and
some CGS Guards came for me. There were six of them, all armed.
They stank of fear and rage. I told him I didn’t need an escort,
but Stanislav simply shrugged and said, ‘orders’.

My skin tingled as I entered
the observation room, something about the place felt different and
sort of not real. It was disorientating and I hated it.
What did
you do here, Ashlem
? I wondered to myself.

“Welcome back, Sixteen” said a
voice from behind the mirrored wall. Even if I hadn’t recognised
the voice, I found that I could see Dr Hart quite well. The
mirroring was no more effective than sunglasses.

“Dr Hart? I thought they’d
fired you.”

“Fortunately, the fertility
crisis is too large to let a few minor setbacks derail the entire
project.”

“Minor?”

“Yes, minor. Look at the big
picture, Sixteen, the entire human race is at risk. The loss of a
few volunteers was always anticipated.”

I expected to feel the
beginnings of a berserk rage, but all I could manage was a sense of
pity. Pity, that he had so little compassion in his soul.

I sighed. “How did they die,
Hart? At least tell me that.”

“In Specimens Eleven and
Twelve, the hybrid cells didn’t spread out sufficiently,” he
explained in a clinical emotionless tone. “They suffered localized
tumours that disrupted the surrounding organs as they expanded.
Thirteen you know about. Fourteen mutated fully, but fell into a
coma and died, we haven’t figured out why. Fifteen will be joining
us shortly. Now it’s your turn. Tell me something.”

I thought about it for a
moment. Wondering what it was safe to reveal. “The mirrored glass
doesn’t work on me now, but I figure you already know that.” I
replied

A minute later Jeaki was pushed
(almost thrown) into the room on the other side of the transparent
barrier. He’d obviously been struggling with his guards and flew at
the door snarling and denting the metal with his fists as he tried
to reach them.

He was raw, dominant and wild;
I felt an instinctive attraction to that. Even with his back to me
I could tell he’d changed more than I had. His skin had darkened to
a coffee colour but also mottled, like marble shot through with
stripes.

At some level, I thought he was
beautiful… attractive.

Finally he stopped hammering
the door and turned, sensing my presence. His eyes widened as his
gaze met mine and then he looked down openly checking out my body.
To my surprise he turned away, preferring to face the wall than
look at me. I concluded that he hated the sight of me.

The imagined rejection cleared
my head somewhat. I wondered if Ashlem had spoken in Jeaki’s mind
as he had mine. If not, Jeaki had to be told.

*Jeaki?* I sent.

The room sort of tingled and I
imagined that my thoughts were flowing along Ashlem’s
blood-inscribed graffiti, amplifying the telepathy so that it felt
as if I’d screamed the thought at the top of my lungs.

*-----*
replied Jeaki,
sending his wordless emotional turmoil echoing around the room
magnified a hundredfold.

“Damn,” I whispered sadly. In
that instant of contact, I’d absorbed enough to know that the
telepath was reacting badly to his altered gender, certainly way
worse than I was. Where I had (so far) managed to cope, Jeaki was
in denial. Big time. It was driving him insane and his mental
self-discipline was making things worse instead of better. Gone was
the obedient corporate boy; the new Jeaki feared and loathed the
female/soume side of his personality and had retreated into what
seemed to be a primal male state, full of murderous, unreasoning
rage. He hated and feared me for the temptation that I represented
and hated the doctors for doing this to him. Hate was easy, as long
as he felt that he wouldn’t have to feel any of the new
emotions.