Menu

#symbiotes

Vortex 8 photo

Vortex Episode Eight: Risky Venture

, , , , , , ,

[Editor’s Note: We are so proud to publish the final episode of this great serial, from Mark Laporta. You can read the whole story from the beginning, starting with Episode One.]

“It is not as you imagine,” said the Serlatian in Bleenor’s mind. “We cannot carry out our offensive without revealing our position and risking millions of lives. You two, however, are already known to the Alornoz and have less to lose.”

“They have a point,” said Zevdra. “The least we can do is listen — unless you know another way home.”

Bleenor’s antennae drooped.

“OK,” he said, “let’s hear it.”

The outline of the Serlatian plan was simple. The Shiny Nova would deliver a series of transmitters to designated asteroids across the galaxy. When  activated, the transmitters would broadcast the same thought-patterns that the two insectoids had used to incapacitate the symbiote that had infested Bot One.

“Once the transmitters are in place, the cumulative effect will drive the Alornoz out of this galaxy forever,” said the Serlatian.

“Not good enough,” said Zevdra. “I can’t agree to a plan that just turns these slugs into somebody else’s problem.”

But as the Serlatian assured her, they had long ago sent detailed plans for the transmitter system to the far reaches of the settled universe.

“By the time those parasites arrive, everyone will be protected,” said the Serlatian.

“Do you buy that, Zev?” asked Bleenor.

“I guess I have to,” said Zevdra. “Unless you’re ready to die here with a slug in your neck.”

Bleenor hung his head.

“Whatever, I can’t lose you,” he said.

Without another word, Zevdra and Bleenor raced back to their lander and shot up to their ship, which was still in orbit around Serlat 3.

“Cargo hull laded,” said the ship’s AI. A moment later, the Serlatian’s voice crackled over the Shiny Nova’s intercom.

“We have transmatted the transmitters to your vessel and entered the necessary flight plan into your navigation system. Your AI is now also capable of transmitting the deadly pattern, should you encounter any symbiote-controlled ships. The moment the last transmitter is in place,  a vortex will appear a short distance away and remain open until you are through. Good luck.”

“Craters,” said Bleenor, “this flight plan has over two hundred stops.”

“Better get started,” said Zevdra.

And so, over the course of the next two weeks, they pushed the Shiny Nova at top speed to deliver the self-deploying transmitters throughout the galaxy. Along the way, their onboard transmitter helped them evade capture, despite several close calls. At last, the work was complete. A blaze of light appeared in the near distance.

“The vortex!” shouted Zevdra. If it hadn’t been for their grueling ordeal, they might have noticed how beautiful its bright, purplish edges were against the inky black of deep space. As it was, they thought only of exiting that treacherous universe unscathed. The moment the vortex closed behind them, Bleenor called out to the ship’s AI.

“Status,” he said.

“On course for mission trajectory,” it said.

Astonished, Bleenor checked the nav-AI.

“That’s right,” he said. “Too bad we’re too late with these medical supplies.”

“Correction,” said the AI. “Our mission is on schedule.”

“How can that be?” asked Zevdra.

“The Vortex point of entry was consistent with these spatiotemporal coordinates,” said the AI.

“I miss Bot One,” said Zevdra. “It was so good at explaining things.”

“You called?” said a voice in the next bulkhead.

The two Veratrese gasped as their lost servicebot walked into the command center. Apparently, the Serlatians had thought of everything.

“Turns out I’m just a toy to them,” said Bot One. “I was fully functional less than two rotations after you left that version of Serlat 3. And it may interest you to know that a spatiotemporal vortex can be aimed at any coordinate set you choose.”

“I’ll keep that in mind the next time I’m … vortexing,” said Bleenor.

The unexpected official announcement that boomed through the ship’s intercom doused his joyful mood.

“Attention, all Trans Proxima Shipping personnel,” it said.  “This is Relnatror Delatrin with your quarterly reminder that crew member fraternization is strictly prohibited and grounds for immediate termination. As always, thanks for being a valued member of our fleet.”

Zevdra’s hoarse whisper barely cut through the Command Center’s stunned silence.

“Positrons in a pile, what’ll we do?” she asked. “Piloting is all I know.”

Bleenor’s mandibles clacked as he plopped down into his navigator’s chair.

“I wonder if there’s a parallel universe out there where there aren’t so many stupid rules,” he said.

Bot Two, who had just clomped up the titanium spiral stairs that led from the lower level walked over to Bot One.

“You want me to tell them?” it asked its machine-mate.

“I’ll do it,” said Bot One. “Though I’m not sure it’s a good idea. But here it is: Captain, you should know that the Serlatians have retrofitted this ship for vortex creation — software, hardware, schematics, the works.”

“So, theoretically, we could open a vortex anytime we wanted?” asked Bleenor.

“Nothing theoretical about it,” said Bot One.

Zevdra and Bleenor gasped as a brilliant ring of bright purple appeared on their view screens for the second time that day.

“Voila, Vortex!” said Bot One. “Now, there’s no way to know if the metaverse on the other side includes a society with the attributes of personal freedom I assume you want. But there are an infinite number of possible metaverses to explore.”

Zevdra pulled Bleenor close. As they gazed up at the image of the vortex, they were overwhelmed by the thought of starting over. Far away, that is, from the petty restrictions of a world more in love with rules than with Love itself.

^^^

Mark Laporta is the acclaimed author of the Changing Hearts of Ixdahan Daherek series and the new novel, Probability Shadow, published October by Chickadee Prince Books, available now in paperback or ebook on Amazon, Barnes & Noble or at a bookstore near you.

Design by Steven S. Drachman from an original image by Jack Weirick / Unsplash

VORTEX 7 MAIN PICTURE

Vortex Episode Seven: Hearing Voices

, , , , , , , ,

[Editor’s Note: Read the whole story from the beginning, starting with Episode One.]

Bleenor scrambled to say something, before the telepathic symbiote detected his thoughts about the orange globe.

“Probably a malfunctioning status light,” he said. “You know, the only thing still operational on a broken down device.”

“Yet it fascinates you, doesn’t it?” asked the symbiote. “Just like an inferior being to focus on trivia. I’m searching for usable weaponry, so I’ll be off. Feel free to stare useless trash in the meantime.“

With that, the alien mind made Bot One stalk off toward one of the ancient city’s many crumbling towers. Bleenor waited until it disappeared behind a large building, before leaning over to Zevdra.

“Do you hear anything?” he whispered.

“Just my knees knocking,” whispered Zevdra.

“The sphere,” said Bleenor. “It’s talking to me in Daloorez Code.”

“Why?” asked Zevdra. “Our military stopped using Daloorez Code decacycles ago.”

Bleenor clasped his helmet between all four hands.

“There it is again,” he said. “Wait … it says it wants to help us.”

“Who does?” asked Zevdra. “Didn’t they all abandon the planet?”

“Only in our universe,” said Bleenor. “Ow!”

“What is it?” asked Zevdra.

Bleenor explained that the intelligence behind the pulsating light had sent him a vivid image of a building about a hundred meters south ─ a little too much data all at once.

“Let’s go,” he said. “It might be our last chance to escape.”

“Or just another trick.” said Zevdra.

“Have to chance it,” said Bleenor, “while you-know-who feels overconfident.”

Hearts pounding, the two insectoids walked as nonchalantly as their terrified minds would let them toward the building that Bleenor now saw vividly in his mind. It was one of the few better preserved structures and, once inside, looked brand new.

Zevdra balanced briefly on her rear legs to take in the entryway’s high, vaulted ceilings. What was this place?

“We’d better hurry,” said Bleenor, “I don’t know how much longer before … our friend … notices we’re missing.”

Fear not. said a voice in his mind. We have planted false thoughts in the symbiote’s imagination. It believes it is speaking to you right now.

“Can you connect to my … my Captain’s mind, too?” asked Bleenor. “And can you help us?”

Unknown, said the voice. We too have been oppressed by the symbiotes. That is why we have remodeled most of our buildings to resemble ruins ─ the better to hide. There is, however, one possibility.

“What?” asked Zevdra. “We’ll do anything.”

As the voice explained, because Bleenor and Zevdra had already come in contact with the Alornoz, they had less to lose than the hidden residents of Serlat 3.

It requires deep mental discipline, said the voice.

The two insectoids listened as the voice described the intricate pattern of repetitive thoughts they’d need to maintain ─ perhaps for hours ─ to disable the symbiote.

“Sounds like torture,” said Bleenor. “You OK with that, Zev?”

“I … I want to say no,” said Zevdra. “We have strict rules about that back home. But we’re fighting for our lives and, well, we’re not home anymore.”

Go now, said the voice. We we cannot deceive the symbiote much longer. Simply return to your previous location. The symbiote will not realize you were gone.

“Thanks,” said Bleenor.

Remember, said the voice, allow no stray thoughts to enter your mind.

As they hurried back to where they started, Bleenor worried that Zevdra’s presence might be distracting.

“Whatever you do,” he whispered, “don’t look at me.”

Zevdra smiled.

“I was just about to say the same thing,” she said.

Soon they stood in front of Bot One, who was likely never to be itself again. Before their adversary had a moment to speak, they began reciting the Serlatian patterns they’d just learned. At first, it seemed to have no effect, until….

“Wait!” Bot One’s voice cried out. “What are you doing?”

Undeterred, Zevdra and Bleenor repeated the patterns, not pausing for a nano-second.

“Stop!” the symbiote shrieked through Bot One. “Stop! You’re … You’re …

The frenzied Alornoz ran Bot One around in circles to shake off its agony. Though success seemed within reach, neither of the two insectoids dared allow themselves to gloat. And just as their minds began to flag, the voice from the building they visited ─ in fact a chorus of voices ─ chimed in to reinforce the patterns until at last, they saw Bot One crash to the ground and go dead.

You may stop now, said the Serlatian voices. This one will trouble you no more.

Zevdra gasped for air.

“That’s … that’s great,” she said. “But aren’t there thousands of these things?”

Millions, said the voice. In light of that, we have a proposal for you. Carry it out successfully and we may be able to send you back through a vortex similar to the one that brought you here.

“You mean we have to do you a favor before you’ll help us?” asked Bleenor. “That’s not fair!”

^^^

Mark Laporta is the acclaimed author of the Changing Hearts of Ixdahan Daherek series and the new novel, Probability Shadow, available now in paperback or ebook on Amazon, Barnes & Noble or at a bookstore near you.

Vortex Episode 6

Vortex Episode Six: On Serlat 3

, , , , , , , , , , ,

[Editor’s Note: Read the whole story from the beginning, starting with Episode One.]

The trip to the metaversal parallel of Serlat 3 was easily the most tense time in the two insectoids’ lives. Instead of indulging in wise-cracking banter, they were forced into sullen silence. There was no escaping the thought that this flight was merely a detour on their way to mental oblivion.

To protect themselves, they’d both adopted the same defensive strategy. Maybe, they both hoped, if they emptied their minds, the Alornoz that had infested the ship’s AI would have less to use against them. But they were mistaken.

“You might as well relax,” the symbiote said through the ship’s intercom. “Your attempt to minimize your mental activity is as conspicuous to me as if you were reliving a childhood trauma ─ which, by the look of things, the two of you know nothing about.”

“Is that supposed to be a bad thing?” asked Zevdra.

“No,” said the symbiote. “But it does make your minds rather boring.”

“Step out of the human,” said Bleenor, “an wriggle around out in the open a while. I have a length of pipe in the engine room that will give you all the trauma you’ll ever need.”

“There,” said the symbiote. “Much better. A quick snack of stifled rage is the perfect pick-me-up, after hours in a coma.”

There was so much more to Bleenor’s angry rant, but he held his tongue. Instinctively, he turned the discussion in a different direction, for reasons he dared not articulate to himself.

“So what’s your plan, Big Shot?” he asked. “Once your species has locked up every sentient mind in this universe, what will you do for an encore?”

A smug chuckle rolled out of the intercom speakers.

“Oh that,” said the symbiote, “that will take ages. At the moment, we’re focused on the survival of the fittest, which is clearly us. You single-mind sentients are too limited to compete.”

“Is that it?” asked Bleenor. “Or is your real problem that you have no ideas of your own ─ and you’re completely dependent on your hosts?”

“Since when is dependency a failing?” asked the symbiote. “I have it on good authority from your own mind that you, my little bug, are totally dependent on Zevdra’s well-being. For example.”

Zevdra doubled over in pain.

“What….” she gasped. “What are you … Bleenor … help … help me!”

Zevdra’s shrieks pierced Bleenor’s ears like jagged shards of glass. He raced to her side.

“Cut it out,” he yelled. “If ‘fitness’ tells you to torture someone, torture me.”

“My pleasure,” said the symbiote. As Zevdra felt her own agony subside, she watched helpless, while Bleenor fell to the floor of the command center, his mandibles clacking uncontrollably.

“Stop it!” she shouted. “He’s worth a thousand of you.”

“Ha!” said the symbiote. “Better check your figures.”

“That’s it,” said Zevdra. “Emergency override code Z/Zero-One-Three-Eight. Initiate electrical system shutdown now!”

Immediately, the Shiny Nova went dark. Bleenor’s body, which had been writhing in pain, suddenly relaxed. Like Zevdra and everything else that wasn’t bolted down, he floated upward.

“Like to see that symbiote control an AI with no power,” said Zevdra.

“Good thinking,” said Bleenor, “Only you shut off life support too and … um … artificial gravity.”

“Can’t help it,” said Zevdra. “I’d rather die than let that monster hurt you. Come on, we still have our pressure suits. If we snap on helmets we might make it to Serlat 3, and find a solution.

“Have my doubts,” said Bleenor. “But the air’s already getting thin. Helmets are in the supply closets below.”

With the AI blockade turned off, the two insectoids pulled themselves down the titanium spiral staircase leading to the lower deck. Bleenor grabbed a helmet for Zevdra, helped her on with it, then waited while she returned the favor. Lucky for them, with the helmet in place, each suit had its own limited power source. Soon his sigh echoed in Zevdra’s ears through their shared comlink.

“Better than nothing,” he said. “And the helmet’s sensors indicate we’re now in orbit around Serlat 3. But how are we going to land without power? We can’t even open the Launch Bay doors.”

“Good thing one of us bothered to read the Shiny Nova’s operating manual,” said Zevdra. “We can restore power to just the Launch Bay. The landers have their own power supply.”

Bleenor smiled at first, before a cloud crossed his multifaceted eyes.

“Only thing that worries me,” he said, “is that the Alornoz might have seen your plan in your mind and taken evasive maneuvers.”

“Bot One,” Zevdra called out. “Any trace of the symbiote in any of our systems?”

When the servicebot replied, its voice was strangely altered.

“You might say, Captain,” it said, “that the symbiote is more adaptable than you anticipated. Though I do admire your ingenuity. Let’s call a truce, shall we? No more pain from me, and no more power outages from you. Now, I suggest we take Lander 2. Much roomier.”

Zevdra glanced at Bleenor, whose defeated shrug of all four shoulders confirmed her fears. The three of them climbed into the waiting lander.

“Partial electrical system reboot, Launch Bay,” said Zevdra. “Code ZP/Five-Four-Two-Nine. Initiate.”

A deep, whirling hum filled their ears as the Launch Bay sprang back to life. They watched as Hatch Two opened to deep space.

“Serlat 3,” said Zevdra. “Standard landing pattern.”

“Superb,” said the Alornoz. “Now I can explore on my own.”

The symbiote’s smug self-confidence was just the mental shield Bleenor needed to send a series of subvocal commands through his helmet to Bot Two on the Shiny Nova. Soon, the ship’s AI would be back online with complete control of every system.

As the lander spiraled down to the planet’s surface, Bleenor had to hope that Zevdra’s enthusiastic awe and the symbiote’s insufferable gloating would continue to hide his secret. The lander alit and, after a routine pressure check, the two Veratrese and the sinister Alornoz who controlled Bot One stepped onto the planet’s surface.

“What a tragic loss,” said the symbiote. “We could’ve made good use of their technology.”

Zevdra pulled Bleenor close, as they surveyed the planet’s broken landscape. Even in decay, the remaining structures seemed imbued with intelligence.

“Hey what’s this?” she heard the symbiote say. The two insectoids raced over to a small clearing in the rubble. Sticking out of the ground was a hemisphere of amber polyglass, about half a meter in diameter. A bright light emanated from it in discrete pulses. Bleenor’s antennae twitched.

What, he wondered, did those pulses remind him of?

(To be continued: Read the Next Episode)

^^^

Mark Laporta is the acclaimed author of the Changing Hearts of Ixdahan Daherek series and the new novel, Probability Shadow, available now in paperback or ebook on Amazon, Barnes & Noble or at a bookstore near you.

VORTEX EPISODE T

Vortex Episode Five: Brain Migration

, , , , , , ,

[Editor’s Note: Read the whole story from the beginning, starting with Episode One.]

The waylaid cargo vessel, Shiny Nova, sped along the arbitrary trajectory its navigator had set in a moment of panic. Alone in his quarters, Bleenor wondered what to do about the ship’s unwanted passenger, a human female infested with a mind-controlling parasite. There was no telling how much longer Bot Two could keep her in a medically-induced coma.

Yet despite the urgency of the situation, Bleenor’s memory of his blissful embrace with Zevdra kept intruding on his thoughts.

“Idiot!” he scolded himself. If he didn’t find a solution, he’d lose her ─ and their last hope for survival. His voice trembled as he called out to Bot Two, through a direct comlink to Sick Bay.

“Status,” he said.

The servicebot’s logical assessment had a calming effect and opened Bleenor’s mind to a fresh train of thought.

“Know anything about hypnosis?” he asked. If the servicebot could reach the captive human’s mind there was a chance she’d know where they could hide. But Bot Two offered little encouragement. Attempting to raise the human’s consciousness while continuing to suppress the symbiote might result in permanent brain damage.

And yet, Bleenor reasoned, wasn’t this parasitical infestation a type of brain damage? Bot Two’s intervention might even free the human’s mind. But maybe there was another way.

“Bot One,” he called out, “could you transfer her consciousness into the ship’s AI?”

“Sorry, not enough bandwidth,” said the servicebot. “But if you reformat my central processor, the AI might be able to copy her brain wave signature and load it into my empty head.”

“AI, is that possible?” asked Bleenor.

For the second time that morning, the answer he received was disappointing. While the AI could attempt to digitize the human’s thought processes, there was every chance the copy would be incomplete or garbled. The most recent attempts at mind-transference on Veratrese had met with only partial success, even under ideal conditions.

Trouble was, the only alternative was to create a cyber-neural link between the human and one of the other crew members ─ and risk a second symbiote infestation.

“There’s too much we don’t know about this species,” said Bot Two.

Just then, Zevdra walked into Bleenor’s quarters, groggy from a long nap.

“What?” she asked. “What don’t we know?”

When Bleenor outlined his desperate plan, Zevdra shook her head.

“Not risking any member of this crew,” she said. “The servicebots are just as sentient as we are.”

“Still need a solution,” said Bleenor.

“I have an idea,” said Zevdra. “Had a dream about it, actually. In our universe, the ruins at Serlat 3 were built by a people with total control over time and space.”

“That’s just a rumor,” said Bleenor. “And anyway, the holovid you downloaded from … wherever … showed nothing but rubble on this version of Serlat 3. What do you expect to find?”

“Dunno,” said Zevdra. “But it’s the only place I do know of to start looking for answers. If it’s as uninhabited as it looks, we’ll be better off than landing on a planet hostile to ‘bug people.’”

Bleenor sighed. Zevdra was even more beautiful when she was serious and determined.

“Well, we could try,” he said. “Maybe Bot One could find something in the rubble.”

Zevdra sidled up closer to him, her antennae twirling.

“And we …” she said, “we’d be all alone in the ruins. Very romantic.”

Bleenor’s mandibles clacked in spite of himself.

“I’ll give you that,” he said quietly. “But come on, call up that holovid again while I plot out a course that might give us some cover.”

“Aye, aye,” said Zevdra. The flicker in her multifaceted eyes made Bleenor’s heart race. A moment later, the holovid of Serlat 3 had once again taken over the command center.

“Think this is real time?” asked Bleenor.

“Affirmative,” said Bot One, “as the humans like to say, for some reason. Can’t figure out why organics are so in love with machine-speak.”

“I’ll tell you a secret,” said Zevdra. “We envy your logical minds.”

“Well, you shouldn’t,” said the servicebot. “Logic is a trap. No matter how hard I try, I can’t get beyond the strict boundaries of quantitative analysis.”

“But you sound so … thoughtful,” said Zevdra.

“That’s just my personality vector,” said Bot One. “It’s a state-of-the-art simulation of organic mental activity. But nothing I ever say is improvised.”

“Let’s commiserate later, OK?” asked Bleenor. “Sensors show a ship gaining on us from about a light year away.”

“Take a look at the holovid,” said Zevdra. “See anything?”

Bot One stared at the translucent scale model of the abandoned planet.

“No,” it said. “But the AI’s long-range scans report some slightly better preserved ruins in the planet’s southern hemisphere. I suggest we head there.”

“Right,” said Bleenor. “Course plotted. Awaiting your input, Cap … Zev.”

Zevdra tilted her head to one side before entering his coordinates into the nav-AI. A few quick taps on the command console set the Shiny Nova’s course and engaged its space-folding engines. For a brief moment, a flicker of hope entered her soul.

That is, until Bot Two’s voice crackled over the ship’s intercom.

“The patient is coming around,” it said. “I suggest we erect a containment field around Sick Bay as soon as….”

The servicebot’s voice broke off and was replaced by the sound of a violent struggle.

“That human is half Bot Two’s size,” said Zevdra. “What could possibly.…”

“AI, seal the lower deck!” Bleenor shouted. “Let nothing in our out.”

The Shiny Nova’s AI complied and again, Zevdra had reason to believe they were safe. But the galley was on the lower level, along with their bunks and the sanitary facilities.

“This is terrible,” she said. “How long can we survive without food or water?

“Not long, I imagine,” said a voice over the intercom. “I, on the other hand, will be just fine. Your AI is quite sophisticated. Plenty of room in here for me. Just as well. The human was too limited.”

“Craters, you’re in my ship?” said Zevdra.

“Your ship?” said the voice. “You must be joking. But you’re in luck. I’ve always wanted to see the ruins of Serlat 3 for myself.”

(Read the next episode here)

^^^

Mark Laporta is the acclaimed author of the Changing Hearts of Ixdahan Daherek series and the new novel, Probability Shadow, which was published in October by Chickadee Prince Books, available now in paperback or ebook on Amazon, Barnes & Noble or at a bookstore near you. He writes serialized SF stories regularly for Audere. Read his other work here.

Illustration by White77 / Pixabay

Vortex Episode 4-1

Vortex Episode Four: Narrow Escape

, , , , , , , , ,

[Editor’s Note: Read the whole story from the beginning, starting with Episode One.]

Zevdra felt as if her head were exploding. She couldn’t decide what was worse: The truth about Bleenor’s crush on her — or the fact that she’d learned about it from a servicebot.

“Out!” she snapped at Bot One and Bot Two — the latter only too eager to return to its patient.

Zevdra slumped into her captain’s chair. The signs, she decided, had been visible for months. All those goofy comments, and the familiar tone he kept trying to get away with: Why hadn’t she seen it before?

The answer was easy. Zevdra had been too focused on her career to give romance a thought. Besides, lanky, awkward Bleenor wasn’t her type. Why then, she wondered, had Bot One’s question thrown her into such a sulk? For better or worse, her brooding was interrupted by the ship’s AI.

“Unidentified ship approaching,” it said over the intercom. Zevdra patched in Bleenor and the servicebots.

“Bot One,” she said. “Is that ship real or a mental illusion?”

“What ship, Captain?” asked Bleenor.

At least, Zevdra decided, he sounded strong again. But the implications were terrifying. She could no longer tell reality from telepathy.

“Plot us a course as far away as possible,” she said.

“Right,” said Bleenor. “Transmitting coordinates now.”

In a flash, Zevdra entered the required nav codes and engaged the engines. The Shiny Nova responded with a brief lurch forward and came to a halt. Soon Bleenor’s gravity boots could be heard clomping up the spiral staircase from below decks.

“What happened?” he asked.

“You do it,” said Zevdra, “My mind …. The Alornoz.…”

Bleenor leapt to the command console, punched in the nav codes he’d just transmitted, and engaged the engines. The ship bolted forward at top speed.

“You realize that’s a violation of protocol,” said Zevdra.

“Not when the Captain’s incapacitated,” said Bleenor.

“Hey, Guys?” asked Bot One from the next bulkhead. “Why are we docking with that unknown ship?”

The two insectoids stared at each other. Apparently, the Alornoz had pulled a “double fake” on their overwrought minds. Instead of zooming away, they were about to be boarded.

“Bot Two,” shouted Bleenor, “wake your patient and find out if there’s any defense against these things.”

“No need,” said Bot Two. “My research shows that the only defense against the parasites is a strong emotional bond to another sentient being in close proximity.”

Bleenor stared at the floor.

“Guess we’re out of luck … Captain,” he said.

“Maybe not,” said Zevdra. “Kiss me.”

“But Cap … Captain,” said her navigator. “What if this is a mental trick by the Alornoz?”

His thorax trembled as Zevdra leapt forward and entwined her antennae with his.

“Only one way to find out,” she whispered.

For Bleenor, the sensation, so often longed for, was almost unbearable. Did Zevdra … actually … but the next second, the question simply didn’t matter. There was nothing in the universe except this beautiful….

“The unidentified ship is disengaging and veering off, Captain,” the ship’s AI said over the intercom.

Slow to respond, the two Veratrese eventually disentangled themselves.

“What now?” asked Zevdra.

“Maybe,” said Bleenor, “we can head for a deep space station and offer our services in exchange for a ship upgrade.”

“You mean, and just keep running?” asked Zevdra.

A low human chuckle on the spiral staircase made two insectoid heads nearly snap off as they turned to look. There, one hand on the titanium railing, was the human female they’d rescued several hours before.

“Congratulations,” she said, “You’ve lasted longer than most. But you failed to see past our initial deception. A ‘parallel’ copy of your ship? There’s no such thing. We launched an escape pod and made it appear to you like a copy. We’ve had you in our grasp this whole time.”

“Come off it,” said Bleenor. “Our servicebots….”

“They were the easiest to influence,” said the parasite-controlled human. “Their minds are so … orderly. But the best part was the last bit. We got the female to violate a steep social taboo with hardly any effort.”

Zevdra leapt on the human and pinned her to the floor of the command center.

“Control this,” she said. No one was more surprised than she, when her front left arm lashed out and knocked the smaller being unconscious.

“Bleenor,” she yelled, “plot a course, engage engines and help me drag this monster into the airlock.”

“We can’t do that, Captain.” said Bleenor. “We’d kill the human host.”

“Get moving,” said Zevdra. “Two, keep this human sedated until we come up with a plan.”

“Yes Captain,” said Bot Two. “But a human can be sedated for only so long before….”

“Doesn’t anybody on this ship want to survive?” asked Zevdra. “Captain’s orders. Go!”

The two servicebots took charge of the human. Bleenor, antennae drooping, set the Shiny Nova on a trajectory at an oblique angle to their current location.

“Won’t they just come after us?” he asked.

“It’s better than sitting still,” said Zevdra. “Ask me, I’d rather dive into the nearest star than let one of those things get me. Besides, our new hostage ought to buy us some wiggle room.”
Let’s hope,” said Bleenor. “AI, does this parasite have a weakness?”

“As Bot Two told you, the presence of non-rational mental activity renders the parasite dysfunctional.” said the AI. “When you and the Captain … embraced … the human exhibited a steep drop-off in cognitive function.”

“No way we can keep that up,” said Zevdra.

“We don’t have to,” said Bleenor. “Flying into the nearest star is as irrational as it gets.“

“Except, we won’t always have a star close by,” said Zevdra. “And didn’t the human just say that she planted that emotional bonding thing in the robots’ heads?”

“Well their ship did veer off,” said Bleenor, “after we … you know.”

“Craters, it was just a kiss,” said Zevdra. “Wasn’t it? Don’t answer that. And we don’t even know if there was actually a second ship, either. So I say we stop playing this game. AI, what are the odds of finding another vortex that leads out of here?”

“Accurate assessment of probability on that scale is impossible with available methods,” said the AI. “I can, however, begin a broad-spectrum search pattern.”

Just then, Bot One walked into the command center.

“The human is sedated,” it said. “By the way, the humans have an expression for your attempt to find a second vortex. They’d say it was like looking for a needle in a haystack.”

“No idea what that means,” said Zevdra.

“I can explain, Captain,” said Bleenor.

Zevdra bowed her exoplated head.

“Please,” she said, “call me Zev.”

(To be continued)

^^^

Design by Steven S. Drachman from an image by NASA.

Mark Laporta is the acclaimed author of the Changing Hearts of Ixdahan Daherek series and the new novel, Probability Shadow, which was published in October by Chickadee Prince Books, available now in paperback or ebook on Amazon, Barnes & Noble or at a bookstore near you. He writes serialized SF stories regularly for Audere. Read his other work here.

Vortex EPISODE 3

Vortex Episode Three: Danger Within

, , , , , , ,

[Editor’s Note: Read the whole story from the beginning, starting with Episode One.]

“How could a human know ancient Veratrese?” asked Zevdra. “I … well, I don’t even know it.”

“Different universe, Captain,” said Bleenor. “We’re lucky there are at least a few parallels. Otherwise, we’d have no way to get oriented.”

“The parallels,” said Bot Two, “might end up being more confusing than helpful. I suggest you take nothing for granted.”

“Just like you to advocate for caution,” said Bot One. “I say we piece together as much as we can from the similarities.”

“Cautious optimism, then,” said Bleenor. “Business as usual. What’s different is this parasite. Too bad our only source of info is in a coma.”

“She is merely sedated,” said Bot Two. “But her recovery will be severely compromised if you do not let her sleep.”

“See?” said Bot One. “Pessimism. I’m going to assume that this parallel universe might also have a parallel newsnet system.”

With that, the servicebot appeared to go dead until, a moment later, its status lights began flickering in a series of short, slow pulses.

“Great,” said Zevdra. “Now Bot One’s in a coma, too.”

“Give it a chance,” said Bleenor. “You have somewhere to go just now?”

Fortunately, Bot One sprung back to life the next second ─ before Bleenor’s mounting frustration made him say things he’d regret later.

“Sorry,” said the servicebot. “I had to run the entire decryption gamut to find the correct access codes. Turns out they’re a simple variant of ours.”

“And?” asked Zevdra.

“The Alornoz,” said Bot One, “is a symbiotic species with a talent for total mentallic control.”

“You mean it reads minds?” asked Bleenor.

“Reads and writes, I’m afraid,” said Bot One. “According to the newsnets, a recent victim was snared at a beach resort, while trying to save a drowning child. But the child was a mental illusion, created by a symbiote that had jumped into the ocean a moment before. The victim no sooner reached out to the illusion than the symbiote leaped onto his neck.”

Zevdra shuddered.

“And … and what now?” she asked.

“Now the victim lives and breathes for the symbiote,” said Bot One. “That’s how they’ve spread from world to world over the last fifty cycles. The victim was last seen stepping into a space freighter for a distant star system.”

“Didn’t anyone try to stop him?” asked Bleenor.

As the servicebot explained, the victim showed no outward sign of infestation. Nothing was suspected until his family reported him missing and investigators discovered his credit account had been transferred to a sector of space-time lightyears away from his homeworld.

“Can’t blame these humans for wanting to escape,” said Zevdra. “So I guess it’s too much to hope that the … the Alornoz only preys on humans.”

“Any sentient species is vulnerable,” said Bot One.

“How widespread is this phenomenon?” asked Bot Two. “It seems unlikely that any species could have infiltrated the entire cosmos.”

“Good point, Two,” said its android companion. “Verifying … Yes! We need only travel 1000 parsecs in any direction to reach a sector of space-time where….”

Bleenor smacked his exoplated forehead.

“Only a thousand?” he asked. “The Shiny Nova isn’t built for long-range flight. More than ten parsecs and we’d have to overhaul the spacefolders.”

“Don’t they have space stations in this universe?” asked Zevdra.

“Probably,” said Bleenor. “And a credit system too! Do you have seventy-five thousand credits lying around for engine work?”

Zevdra’s antennae drooped.

“Come on … come on, don’t snap at me like that,” she said. “I’m trying to think,”

Bleenor hung his head.

“Sorry, Zev,” said Bleenor.

“Stop calling me that!” his Captain shouted. “I’m still your superior officer.”

Bleenor stared at her a moment, his heart racing. Why, he wondered, did his body suddenly feel like it was made entirely of lead? His quiet voice trembled ever so slightly.

“Awaiting orders, Captain,” he said and raced down the spiral stairs leading to the lower decks.

“What’s wrong with him?” whispered Zevdra. “Moons of Helnor-Devanne, Two, do you think the parasite’s got him?”

“Scanners indicate the source of his condition involves no alien life form,” said Bot Two.

“What then?” asked Zevdra.

“It is not my place to speculate,” said the servicebot.

“Answer me!” said Zevdra. “That’s an order.”

“His condition,” said Bot Two, “is consistent with deep emotional attachment, aggravated by embarrassment, and grief.”

“Grief?” asked Zevdra. “I had no idea. He didn’t mention a death in the family.”

“Captain,” said Bot One, “please. Asking Two and me to speculate about utterly illogical organic emotional responses puts too much strain on our central processors. I will … try … to assist you by asking what I believe to be a relevant question.”

“So?” asked Zevdra.

“Is it possible,” asked Bot One, “that Navigator Bleenor … loves you?”

(To be continued in Episode Four)

^^^

Image by Ben Lodge, Unsplash.

Mark Laporta is the acclaimed author of the Changing Hearts of Ixdahan Daherek series and the new novel, Probability Shadow, which was published in October by Chickadee Prince Books, available now in paperback or ebook on Amazon, Barnes & Noble or at a bookstore near you.