“Sure you wanna this, Doc?” Pierre cracked his knuckles. “It wouldn’t be very grateful of me to give your face an ugly makeover after you saved…”
“Don’t fret about it.”
“Stop!” Draa lunged forward but was caught by Thomas.
Lucius was acting like an idiot. He closed the distance to his opponent without even raising his hands. His face, torso, throat, veins—his stance protected nothing. A concealed knife, a sting, a bite to the neck, or even a simple jab to the eyes would have guaranteed his defeat. Naturally, Pierre didn’t miss such a perfect opportunity and shot his hand forward.
Draa had never experienced it himself, but he knew enough about fights to understand how important it was to protect the solar plexus for those unlucky enough to be born without a natural shell. During his first encounter with Vyfka, he had taken the girl down with exactly this technique after she mocked his brother. The blow had caused a spasm, making her choke; the traveling wave of pain had irritated her stomach, ending in a rather humiliating relaxation of the bowels; and she had confessed to the arrived to help Nuergh that it felt like her entire chest was being gnawed by insects burrowing tunnels through her. It had taken several minutes before the bully could crawl away from their home.
And that was the reaction of a Malformed, far more resilient than any Softskin.
The fist landed directly in the center of the healer’s solar plexus, catching him mid-step forward. An excellent execution.
Without even slowing, Lucius pushed Pierre’s wrist back. The healer’s palm slapped his opponent’s ear with a crack, hard enough to shove him into the corridor and leave a reddish mark on his skin. The next slap landed on his stomach. Pierre bent backward, rising onto his toes, his mouth opening in a grimace of excruciating pain. But he remained silent, not even letting out a wheeze to betray his condition.
“The beauty of being a doctor is knowing the exact limits of the unenhanced body. For instance, your current state, friend,” Lucius said. “We’re mostly water, which transmits vibration to neighboring cells quite well…”
A fist flew past his head, grazing his ear.
“Disorientation is a consequence of dizziness. I’d recommend a break, otherwise you won’t be able to land passable hits like the one you treated me with…” Pierre leaped back several steps, shaking his temples furiously. “Hey! Show some attention, I’m giving you a diagnosis here. How about acting like an obedient boy and stop being such a disappointment?”
Thomas released the teenager, keeping a hand on his shoulder. The tail of the humanoid mouse wrapped around Tigfy’s waist as she approached, while his other hand rested on Vyfka’s shoulder, holding them both in place. Draa expected Satya to be upset by her kinsman’s beating, or Vipstana to express concern for her brother, but both women remained calm.
“A thousand apologies for this behavior,” Satya said. “Uncle is usually very reliable and responsible.”
“Boys will be boys,” Vipstana sighed. “Let’s chalk it up to stress. As long as no one gets hurt.”
“Heh-heh,” Vyfka giggled. “Tear him a fresh one, male. Lucius, I mean. Listen, can he teach me how to eat hits without flinching? I’m ready for…”
“Nothing,” Thomas said firmly. “I’ll show you a few tricks later.”
“Deal! Five bones on the shorty… Shit…” Vyfka hesitated. “I don’t have any bones left.”
“And children shouldn’t gamble,” Thomas added.
“It’s not over yet,” Tigfy whispered.
“Yeah. Pierre hasn’t used his power yet,” Draa agreed.
“That’s not what I meant.”
Dark clouds gathered around the mocking Lucius’s face and feet. His words could no longer be heard, though his mouth kept moving. Instead of losing his balance or being choked, the white-clad Softskin calmly stepped out of the clouds. Pierre rushed at him, grabbed his collar, and yanked, intending to throw the healer over his shoulder. Lucius’s feet didn’t leave the floor; he kept himself steady by touching the wall with his fingers.
“Well, that’s just silly,” Lucius remarked, watching his opponent’s struggles.
He raised his hand and brought it down like a falling steel beam. The blow struck the man’s chest, sending him crashing onto his back.
“I’m sure you’re dying to know why nothing worked. Believe it or not, I’m into bodybuilding.” He lovingly took hold of his own shoulders. “But all the cute girls at university were scared off by the increased bulk. So when I was taken on as an intern at Rho Biotechnologies through begging and free labor, they let me undergo augmentation for a ridiculously low price, solving the unwanted ‘bulk’ problem while keeping all the benefits. My muscle density is 164 times higher than a normal human’s, and I never miss a morning routine. My lungs hold enough oxygen to survive in a vacuum for an hour, and my bones… Don’t even hope.”
“He’s done for,” Draa declared with certainty.
“Fifty credits on Pierre,” Thomas said.
“Sneak. You know I can’t bet against my brother. Ten credits on Lucius.” Vipstana grimaced.
“Your lack of faith wounds me…”
Pierre lay on his back, sprawled out, gasping for air. He looked beaten, defeated, but none of the attacks that had landed on him seemed severe enough for this result, especially for a fighter who had effortlessly taken down Tigfy. Had the accumulated beating worn him out? Draa wondered, noticing his furry friend’s intense stare, which was not distracted by Vyfka’s loud hooting.
The whites of the man’s eyes darkened, and suddenly he pushed himself up off the floor with his shoulder blades. His boot slammed into Lucius’s groin. Startled, the healer clenched his legs together, unknowingly providing Pierre with support, and the next kick from his other foot landed on the side of Lucius’s head. A dull sound, like a bone club striking an Insectoid’s torso, echoed through the corridor. The Softskin didn’t even flinch.
But then something surprising happened.
Lucius opened his mouth wider and wider, letting out a squeak and clutching his groin. Suspended in the air and his ankle trapped between the crossed legs, Pierre turned red, coughed, and finally reached out, trying to free his foot. He writhed in pain as his bones cracked, while the other man began to tip over. Finally releasing the trapped ankle, Lucius started rolling on the floor, whimpering.
“That lasted longer than I expected,” Vipstana rushed to her brother, slipping a pill into his mouth. He nodded gratefully, straightening up.
“Here’s your lesson. Arrogance can cost you victory, even in the most obvious of outcomes. Never drag out a combat; vain pageantry doesn’t make you cooler or better.” Thomas patted the Malformed children on their heads.
“Better not fight at all!” Vipstana called out.
“What else is there to do?” Vyfka asked in surprise.
Vipstana led the limping Pierre and her brother away, leaving the group under Thomas’s supervision. Two more soldiers entered the medical bay, silently taking positions on either side of the entrance. The teenagers sat on the couch; Satya had kept her distance at first, but then relaxed, no longer sitting so stiffly. Draa didn’t blame the girl. Raoul had butchered the adults in her group, crippled her relative, and planned to do far worse to her. It was a miracle she didn’t view them as freaks.
Unable to wait any longer, Draa finally decided to ask the questions that had been bothering him.
“These…” he hesitated, remembering the word. “…examinations and Lucius’s enhancements. Are they magic or done with power?”
“Neither,” Thomas replied. He pulled the doctors’ table closer to the couch and placed on it the device he had used to speak with his son earlier. “This, for example. There’s no little me inside…”
“I already figured that out. Your son is far away,” Draa blurted out, embarrassed. “But the translator. How does it know our language? Did Artificer tell it? And how does he know Satya’s language and the language of the local Softskins?”
“We all come from humans…”
“Lies!”
“You’re feeding us crap!”
“Impossible!”
“Look at our sizes!”
The four teenagers exchanged glances, surprised by their simultaneous outburst. Thomas smiled slightly.
“I agree, most people don’t have tails, scales, fur, or extra limbs,” the mutant laughed good-naturedly. “Nevertheless, we all descend from one species as a result of the catastrophe in the past.”
“The Ancients!” Tigfy exclaimed. “They caused the catastrophe…”
“They suffered from it, that’s for sure. Their involvement hasn’t been proven. And the term ‘Ancients’ is inaccurate. The Extinction happened about three hundred years ago.”
“Only thirty little Draas in years,” Vyfka smirked.
“Or…” He stopped under her mocking gaze. Vyfka was eleven. The math wasn’t simple. “Alright, forget it. So what about the language?”
“In the Old World, there were many languages. Many are still in use or have changed. The translator,” Thomas tapped his ear, “has its own database. Imagine many books contained within this tiny shell. When encountering an unknown language, the translator’s systems consult them and find a similar language or almost instantly recognize the roots of an unknown dialect, filling in the gaps through experience in conversation.”
Artificer’s initially shifting speech now made more sense to Draa.
“So, this thing is alive? Is it a slave?” He touched his own translator, afraid of damaging it.
“Not in the sense that you, I, or Lada are. Such objects don’t have desires of their own,” the mutant assured him. “The spaceship around you and Lucius’s biological changes are products of scientific progress. In time, they’ll stop surprising you. For now, let’s give you a tangible demonstration of their usefulness.”
The device’s display lit up. Draa’s stomach growled demandingly at the image of warm liquid bubbling in a bowl. White symbols framed the vision. Hunger made him hear Satya’s heartbeat; a tremor ran through his fingers, but he refused to look at the girl and bit his lip, suppressing the vile urge. Softskins were not food. Never, he would never harm the innocent.
Beside him, Vyfka inhaled loudly, looking disappointed by the lack of an appetizing smell.
“Don’t be shy,” Thomas encouraged them. “Swipe left or right on the display with your fingers. You won’t crack it.”
Draa beat Tigfy to it, swiping across the surface. The growling of three teenagers’ stomachs merged into one at the sight of the most tempting, delightful piece of meat with a brown crust covered in strange vegetation. Even Satya swallowed. The hunger intensified, and the boy stared at the adult, wondering if he was mocking them.
“Keep going. Once you’ve chosen something you like, press the white square in the corner…”
Frantic tapping on the icon cut him off. Saliva filled their mouths, their eyes greedily fixed on the food. Satya took the device and spent a little more time experimentally choosing soup, drinks, and offering them to her new acquaintances. Still not understanding what was happening, all three agreed with her choice.
After a few moments, an opening appeared in the wall behind Thomas, and Draa nearly jumped over the man. Food! Mechanical appendages placed trays of divinely smelling, warm pieces of meat on the tables. Beside them lay unfamiliar utensils, miniature knives, and some three-pronged spikes. Gifts? Draa decided not to ask and tore into his portion, shoving juicy chunks into his mouth.
He had never tasted anything like it. He simply didn’t have the words. The crust was crunchy, but the meat of the unknown beast was incredibly tender, almost equal in taste to human flesh. It melted on his teeth, urging him to swallow it quickly, and the boy readily obeyed. With difficulty, he stopped, worried that Vyfka or Tigfy might not have enough of their portions.
He needn’t have worried. Another tap on the icon brought additional portions. Vyfka, having removed her mask, noticed Satya grimacing at the acrid smell coming from her maw, and moved off the couch, sitting cross-legged near the entrance. The guards didn’t object. One offered her a chair, but she asked for more food instead.
If the Softskins were surprised by their appetites, they didn’t show it. Next came drinks in gray cups, and Draa cautiously dipped his tongue into the brown sludge that resembled excrement. Satya boldly downed hers, squeaking with pleasure at such a large treat.
Sweet. Mommy it is so sweet. It was ten times better than Eshtu’s venom. The unknown drink sent a jolt of energy to his stomach, delighting his mouth with flavor and refreshing his mind without clouding it. A blissful feeling in his belly announced the richness of the liquid’s calories, urging him to drink more and eat until a fresh layer of fat appeared over his arms. Draa didn’t resist the call.
Refreshed, he noticed that the meat trays and cups were of different sizes. He gathered the empty dishes from the girls, placing them nearby. Noticing his curiosity, they joined him in examining them: Vyfka to his left, Tigfy and Satya to his right.
“What the hell is this?!” Tigfy jumped back, pulling the Softskin girl with her.
The surface of the tray was moving. Draa poked it with his finger, and it gave way—not like clay, but rather like rubber. It looked like metal, but it stretched to accommodate his form. Helplessly, he looked at Thomas.
“Liquid metal,” Thomas said, as if that explained anything. “Not my specialty. I can teach you how to use weapons…”
“Teach me how to use the fire tube,” Tigfy asked.
Satya peeked out from behind her, cautiously returning to her food. These things are just as surprising to our neighbors. Draa decided.
“…but explaining the intricacies of Artificer’s secrets is beyond me,” Thomas ignored the request.
“Will Eshtu and his sister get meat?” Draa asked. “Please. If needed, throw me into the desert, I’ll catch bugs. His sister is always hungry.”
“Not surprising; the poor thing has all the signs of malnutrition,” Vipstana returned with the participants of the scuffle. The lower part of Pierre’s leg was in a strange brace. “Don’t be concerned about food; the spaceship was designed to synthesize provisions for far more passengers than we have on board. They’re fine.”
They were starving. Draa pushed his tray of meat aside. He felt disgusted continuing. His parents always provided food for the whole family. How many times had he tried to prove his value by uselessly hauling goods or venturing into the desert to hunt, instead of asking Eshtu if he was full? If he wasn’t scared living alone? Yes, his friend was indecisive, but so what? Draa should have made Eshtu move in with them much sooner. He had invited him on a hunt far too late.
It’s safer together. What a load of nonsense. Eshtu was part of his group, and he hadn’t noticed such important things one bit.
“Cheer up,” Tigfy advised between mouthfuls. “Do you want your hat back?”
“Keep it.” Pierre sat beside Draa. “Alright, kiddos, I was wrong. I’ve been reacting too harshly to you.”
“I should have been more polite too,” Draa returned the courtesy. “Vipstana, how did you handle your brother’s pain so easily?”
“Just a painkiller.” Lucius grinned. “Speaking of which, that reminds me…”
“Yeah, yeah.” Pierre caught the oblong object thrown to him and swallowed it. His pupils quivered; he extended his hand, exhaling nervously. “Incredible. I can’t summon the whirlwind. It’s inside me, but it doesn’t answer the call.”
“Good. Careless use of power is deadly to everyone. You can’t use your ability for foolishness…” Vipstana stopped.
“Why are you grieving?” Tigfy turned to her.
“Still hung up on that incident?” Lucius settled onto the floating chair. “Vipstana has a power. She can transform a material, or part of it, into something else. For example, steel into wood. Oh, how we used to have fun creating ice floors in our parents’ bedroom while they slept,” he chuckled. “Absolutely worth the shouts of ‘Parasites! Bastards! Where’s my belt!’ Ah. Then an accident happened.”
“I almost killed you,” Vipstana said quietly.
“Don’t exaggerate, alright? It was an accident. We’d read about hedges—those fences made of plants grown together. And we decided to surprise our parents. While sis was transforming the wood, I saw a ball on the ground and reached for it, accidentally brushing her arm with my backside.” Lucius slapped his hip. “Half my body was gone. Turned into moss. I bet we added a new page to Iterna’s medical books upon arrival at the hospital.”
“That’s not funny,” Vipstana said sourly. “What I did was terrible, unforgivable…”
“Don’t hog all the credit. I’m not angry, and you should forget it too.”
“Why not give us the same pills as Pierre, then?” Draa inquired. He nodded at the collar on Tigfy and the patch on his own suit. “Why put a muzzle on Vyfka and these binding harnesses…”
“The power-suppressing medicine isn’t perfect.” Vipstana sat at the table. “We had a Malformed brought in, torn up, with many feathers pulled out…”
“Paarfu!” Draa exclaimed. “He’s alive?!”
“Recovering. Panicked from the ordeal, he attacked everyone, creating zones of cold that ignored power armor protection. He was transported aboard by robots. For our safety, we had to administer a drug, and it caused him to molt completely. We haven’t yet determined exactly what caused that reaction in his body,” the healer said with embarrassment. “There will be compensation, of course. We also have examples of side effects like scale loss…”
“Hey, I don’t want to be naked!” Vyfka shouted.
“No one’s going to force you. You see, Abnormality manifests in many forms. Physical—which is the cause of your glands producing such copious amounts of acid—is not affected by the drug. So there’s no need for experiments,” reassured Vipstana. “The examination is over. Guards, escort our wards to their rest.”
“Draa, you’re with me,” Thomas said.
****
Paarfu. A name? Surname? Rank? Unknown. Vipstana typed on the terminal’s keyboard, adding the information to the personal file of future citizen No. 42314. Many Malformed, for understandable reasons, refused to cooperate. No doubt they saw Iterna as invaders come to enslave them. Given the nature of the current annexation and local prejudices, such a reaction was expected.
But it created difficulties for the medical staff. They had to assign numbers to those who remained silent, depersonalizing them. Worse still, three Abnormals were found to have internal bleeding of varying severity. They should have been treated first, but the chaos of hectic distribution nearly cost them their lives. She didn’t blame the soldiers; Crassus had been very gallant given the unexpected pressure.
Nevertheless, they desperately needed friendly locals to establish contact. Vipstana had already filed a request for the temporary employment of Nuergh and the awakened Paarfu—both were showing goodwill and a willingness to talk—as temporary staff on the Star Chain and Star Link.
Tigfy, who had volunteered, dozed in the corner of the couch, watching Vipstana with one open eye. What must she have endured to develop such a habit… It didn’t matter; the terrible past was behind her. Drones silently installed a new research platform to replace the one Draa had broken, and patients rested peacefully in their rooms.
Idyllic.
After saying goodbye to the other children, an unexpected window of free time had appeared. The three Malformed scheduled after Draa—what a ridiculous nickname—had exhibited aggression, attacking and breaking their fangs on their escorts. Crassus had been furious about the incident, but the Abnormals had been wearing restrictors. What terrified Vipstana was how fast they could move without them. Now the soldiers were figuring out how to ensure the safety of the rest of the staff, while dentists worked on the unconscious trio.
She continued typing, filling out Vyfka’s personal file. Her sensitive nature protested using such a dog-like nickname. It didn’t matter; soon the girl would choose a real, human name. For now, Vipstana was interested in the phenomenon of constant acid production. The girl’s remarkable body produced it in the lungs themselves, pumping it into glands in her throat and above her fangs.
Teeth. She corrected herself. Using animal terminology for people leads to subconscious prejudice.
Holes were found in Vyfka’s teeth, invoking a connection to venomous snakes. So what was the problem? Vyfka’s mutation lacked an off-switch. The acid kept being produced, overflowing the glands and seeping into her nasopharynx and neck. An advantage and a burden. Surgery was undesirable; it would require replacing most of her internals. But the body could be tricked with chemical processes, neutralizing the excess acid production.
Solvable. She leaned back in her chair. Under her medical gloves, her fingers itched. More than anything, she wanted to rip them off and scratch, to claw at her skin… Foolish, of course. Her fingers couldn’t itch. Both the gloves’ material and the enhancements she had received to increase her odds of survival prevented that. Just a trick of the mind.
Lucius dozed in his floating chair. His ability to sleep anywhere, in any position, filled his sister with intense envy. Sensing her gaze, he grunted, waking.
“Did you really mean what you said?” she asked directly.
“If you mean the fight or the tail, then absolutely…”
“You know what I mean,” she wouldn’t let him joke his way out.
A writhing body on the grass. Blood spurting from torn arteries, staining pale hands bright red. The smell, the disgusting stench of emptied bowels. Sounds, breathing more like the roars of a summoned demon from a horror film than anything made by a human body. Fingers clawing at the fence board, breaking nails.
It hurts! Vippi, it hurts so much! Help me, change it back! Vippi! Please!
She shuddered, exhaling a little too loudly. Tigfy’s eyelid twitched. Lucius stepped onto the floor, walked around her, and placed his hands on her shoulders, touching the exposed skin of her neck with his fingers.
“Tender, impressionable, foolish Vipstana,” he said, startling her.
After the incident, his behavior had changed. Lucius became more reckless, more aggressive at school, walking the line of becoming a bully and fighting anyone willing to take him on, until one day a trainer got him interested in lifting weights. That relentlessness had stayed with him throughout life. At university, he was a womanizer. It was easier to list the female students in his course he hadn’t slept with than those who had rejected his advances. His studies, his personal life, his hobbies—Lucius hurled himself into everything completely, readily paying for body-altering procedures.
Finally marrying, he and his beloved were now trying to live a more normal life, putting aside free love and searching for partners outside of marriage in anticipation of their expected firstborn.
But sometimes, his manner of speaking, his readiness to jump into a brawl, frightened Vipstana, bringing to mind inappropriate thoughts about how easily he could snap her neck. It was unworthy. Her brother gave up rest to support her. And perhaps because he couldn’t bear to do nothing for long.
“How many times do I have to say you’re forgiven?” Lucius asked gently. “Don’t linger in the past. I forgive you. I’m not angry. Honest.”
“I’m afraid I altered something in your brain back then,” Vipstana said.
“If so, then I’m grateful. Never a dull moment in life.” Lucius released her, sitting beside her. “Find yourself a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend, if you swing that way. Mom and Dad and our friends won’t admit it, but we’re all worried about this unnatural celibacy.”
“I want to see the stars,” she snapped.
“Look at the night sky,” Lucius laughed. Noticing her hurt expression, he raised his hands. “Fine, fine. Space is marvelous. I’ll never forget when the spaceship lifted off. I completely understand why you want to see it. But a person can pursue several kinks at once. I’m not talking about tying yourself with marriage. Just hook up with any sailor or soldier, and sleep with them. Your self-flagellation will take a back seat.”
“Oh, dear brother…”
“Oh, dear sister,” he teased, imitating her voice. “Don’t sigh, don’t ‘oh’ and ‘ah’—live a little. Come on, come on, you’re being prescribed happiness; at least give it a try…”
The buzzing of the communicator in her ear saved Vipstana from the awkward situation. She answered the call, and a force field covered her face, ensuring confidentiality from accidental eavesdropping.
“Report,” Artificer demanded.
“Many are connected by close blood ties. We’ll need to distribute them to minimize the chance of further inbreeding, sir.”
“We have sufficient territory. Seal the discovery for thirty years. The last thing we want is to give the radicals more ammunition. Power?”
“Only one displayed space manipulation. Several other abilities were encountered, possibly inherited through the maternal line, sir.”
“Statistically unlikely.”
“Those are the facts, sir.”
“Acknowledged. Continue the examinations, Vipstana. If you become tired, take a break. There’s no need to try to achieve the impossible. Your proposals are accepted.”
The force bubble disappeared from her face, and she smiled, pleased by the gesture of trust from the Elite. Perhaps she should take a couple of hours to sleep. As one of only two expedition specialists in powers, she didn’t want to appear incompetent. Not on her first diplomatic mission. The opportunity to serve under Artificer filled her with reverent awe. Such an honor. So many possibilities.
But her priority was the patients.
“Where’s Tigfy?” she asked.
Lucius stirred, beginning to look around at the empty couch.
“How inattentive you are,” Vipstana activated the terminal, accessing the ship’s computer, which instantly located the sly girl. Clever little kitty. She had timed it perfectly, slipping away when they weren’t thinking about her. “It’s fine. Well, who’s next on the list?”