“I can’t believe it!” said Ganylerr, sitting in the car at the side of the road in the Zactin Pass. “The house has been seriously damaged in a battle AND an earthquake?! We knew that a battle might happen one day but an earthquake at the same time?! It’s like a bad dream, Dad!”
“The important thing is that we’re all safe,” said Gondil over the ‘phone. “Also, most of our possessions have been salvaged. They’re en route to Bodrabsa Town. A few things were hit by bullets but nothing too important. I’ve been reconnecting the utilities in the secret house. Things are looking up. Only a few people know that I’m here. Perhaps I should’ve moved years ago but I wanted to keep in touch with my family, friends and associates.”
“How’s Mum taking it?” asked Ganylerr, shaking slightly with nerves.
“Well, of course she’s worried but I’ve assured her that we’re all fit and well,” replied Gondil. “I can’t say the same for the Tyrif and Wolast clans, though. They lost at least three quarters of their strength. We were too skilful on the battlefield.”
“Who did we lose?” asked Ganylerr.
“Er, we’re still searching for bodies,” answered Gondil hesitantly. “Ninety percent of my regular guards made the ultimate sacrifice. Several dozen more also met their ends. I’m sorry; it was a very bad day for our clan. I was most aggrieved to lose people like Olgriz, Honiharn, Zuplix and Hauthrab. They’ve been stalwarts for many years.”
“Not Hauthrab!” cried Ganylerr. “He was one of my best friends!” She dissolved in tears and threw herself onto Spadraye’s chest. She couldn’t talk for a minute so Spadraye took over the call.
“Where should we go, sir?” he asked. “Shall we join you in Bodrabsa? Should we check on Hahnirets? Perhaps Gany could take refuge with her mother?”
“Hmm, she’ll be living with me in Bodrabsa until she wants to move out,” said Gondil. “Triana is living with friends for a while until she feels safe enough to go home. I’m a bit worried about Hahni, left behind in that asylum. They won’t let her use a ‘phone most of the time, so I can’t monitor her very easily. You could go there, check on her and then bring Gany to her new home.”
“Will do,” said Spadraye. “Vittin lorks, though! I’ve never seen such a bad situation. Poor Gany is emotionally wrecked. I’ll do what I can to console her.”
“Apologise to her for me, would you?” said Gondil. “This mess today is mainly my fault. I thought that I was such a big shot as clan leader, throwing my weight around. Now we’ve all paid a serious price for my misdeeds. She knows that already but I feel the need to reiterate. Guilt is my burden.”
“I’ll pass that on, sir,” said Spadraye. “I’ll hang up now. We have to keep motoring. The earthquake cracked and blocked some roads. We’ve been taking more detours.” He ended the call and passed on the message.
“I feel dizzy, Spaddy!” said Ganylerr, leaning back in her seat. “My life’s just been changed massively. It’s like I lost a huge part of myself. It’s so serious that I feel unbalanced, like a spinning wheel with a segment missing.”
“I can empathise,” said Spadraye. “I’ve lost important people and relationships before. At least I can still visit Hahni.”
“Yes, take us there now,” said Ganylerr dejectedly. “She may be a mad corner stringer but she’s my only sibling. She needs to be kept informed, as much as the rest of us.” Spadraye started the car and drove on, using the machine’s superior performance to make up for lost time. They cruised through the outlying villages and suburbs. About five percent of all buildings had been seriously damaged or destroyed by the earthquake. A lot of people were outside trying to rescue friends, relatives, pets, livestock, possessions and other items. Most of them looked concerned or miserable. They’d been totally unprepared for this rare kind of disaster. Spadraye wondered if the landslide and sinkholes from the outward journey were triggered by an earlier, smaller earthquake. He suspected so but he’d never know for sure. He stopped at one house to donate a couple of spare blankets to an elderly couple. They thanked him profusely. Their house had collapsed and they were living in a barn down the road.
After another thirty five minutes, Spadraye and Ganylerr reached the asylum. It was in the hospital’s extensive grounds, set back three hundred metres from the road. Spadraye parked and then he discussed with Ganylerr whether he should see Hahnirets. He worried that his presence would trigger more anger and violence in Hahni. They decided to talk to the doctors first. They walked in through the front door and signed the visitors’ book. They sat in the waiting area for a few minutes before a doctor emerged. She summoned them into her office. As they entered, they noticed the many books on the shelves, the professional certificates in a sturdy case with safety glass in the front, the ubiquitous counselling couch, the tins of softorn spray and the various dents and scratches in surfaces caused by unruly patients. They introduced themselves to the doctor, whose name was Reluby.
“I have some bad news about your sister Hahnirets,” said Reluby to Ganylerr. “After many unforeseen delays and complications, we finished the analysis of her blood sample. Mostly she’s fine but her blood is infected with a new strain of an old disease. It was called ‘Dibber Zouch’ centuries ago. That’s a crude name so we’re calling the new version ‘Savage-Originated Resilience Reducer’ or SORR for short. It’s the first FTD to enter the population for at least five centuries. Our time of freedom from FTDs is over.”
“The vittin savage!” swore Spadraye. “I never thought that this would happen!”
“What does this SORR do to people?” asked Ganylerr.
“Well, we haven’t done proper studies yet but we think that it reduces bodily resilience,” replied Reluby. “Dibber Zouch attacked any weak parts of the body, so the course of the disease varied from person to person, depending on their particular weaknesses. Your sister is strong, which means that her illness will probably be lengthy. It will kill her in the end, we presume. Dibber Zouch was always fatal, according to the old records.”
“You don’t know that!” objected Spadraye. “SORR might not be fatal. It’s a mutant strain, right?”
“We’re not hopeful about that,” said Reluby. “Already, Hahnirets’ blood cells are showing signs of degradation. SORR is consuming them gradually. She’ll be dead within ten years at this rate.”
“Raised spingles!” cursed Ganylerr. “I don’t need more bad news!” She started crying again. Spadraye explained about the battle, the earthquake and the many clan deaths. Reluby looked shocked. She hadn’t heard the latest news.
“So, your family is having an extremely tough time at the moment,” she said. “I’m sorry that adverse events seem to come in clusters. However, I need information about Hahnirets’ partners. She’s probably infected them with SORR.”
“That’s a very difficult question to answer,” said Spadraye. “I’m her ex but we stopped having intimate relations long before the savage appeared. She didn’t tell me much about her love life after that. There was a lad called Posipun. He was in the same hospital room as her. The savage attacked and raped him severely. As far as I know, he’s still recovering there now.”
“I think that he’s already been isolated,” said Reluby. “Do you know any others?”
“She told me about this guy called Cradrym,” said Ganylerr. “He was a journalist at the ‘Scurrilous Moon’. He used a fake name. We don’t know his real name. He gave her aphronectar and then left town. Maybe the other journalists know his location. We never found out.”
“That sounds like a tricky one,” said Reluby. “The journalists are anarchic and don’t usually cooperate. We’ll do what we can.”
“She put a footle into this transsexual woman Hursmet,” reported Spadraye. “I guess that she won’t be a problem. Poor Hursmet died in mysterious circumstances shortly afterwards. She was stabbed by unknown assailants. They didn’t even leave footprints in the blood.”
“So she’s dead but her attackers might be infected,” said Reluby. “We’ll never find them, though. This situation is getting worse by the minute. Can you remember any other names?”
“She said that she dated a rich man called Solurmys, just before she was brought here,” replied Ganylerr. “He had his own raptocopter and flew her around in it.”
“He should be easy to find,” said Reluby. “Is that the lot? Did she footle any women?”
“There may have been other men but time was limited,” said Spadraye. “She was trying to find a replacement for me but she wasn’t pursuing all the men in the world and she was very much against same-sex relationships.”
“Thank you for the information,” said Reluby. “We’ll make every effort to chase up these men and whoever they’ve footled since. Are you ready to meet Hahnirets now? She’s fully aware of her SORR diagnosis and its implications.”
“We’re as ready as we can be,” said Spadraye. “Lead on, Doctor. With this SORR diagnosis, we have to meet her.” They went to the viewing room. Reluby left them waiting for a few minutes. Hahnirets was fetched from her cell. She was loud enough to be heard approaching.
“Vittin get OFF me!” she shrieked as two orderlies dragged her down the corridor. “I don’t want to see anyone! The Spaddy and Gany Show can go jump in a whirlpool!”
“You play by our rules here, GOT IT?” said an orderly as he threw Hahnirets into the inmates’ side of the viewing room. She got up and tried to leave but the orderlies locked the door. She banged vainly on the door with her four fists for a few moments. That produced no results so she turned to look at her visitors. Her glare and furious expression told its own story. She picked up the chair and was about to smash it against the door when the orderlies made a threat.
“Any more breakages and we’ll starve you for a week!” said one.
“Hahni, listen to them!” pleaded Ganylerr. “The rules are clear. They can treat you very harshly to make you comply. We can’t help you without changing the law.” Hahnirets put the chair down.
“I don’t need the damned chair anyway!” she said, shooting a web at the ceiling and suspending herself from it. “What have you two got to tell me? Spit it out!” She gave them an unnerving death-stare.
“There’s been an earthquake,” said Spadraye. “The whole region has seen damage and destruction. We’re not sure what caused it. We don’t get many earthquakes around here. Anyway, your father’s house is one of those damaged. There may be others. Where were you staying before the savage attack? That place might have been affected. We suspect that the new star was ...”
“So you’ve come over here to depress me?” said Hahnirets. “Great job, Spaddy: I’m sure you’re proud of yourself! We felt the vittin earthquake, thanks very much. Some of the walls here are cracked. They don’t talk about it but I’m pleased, let me tell you!”
“That’s not all, Hahni!” said Ganylerr. “Dad was attacked by the Tyrif and Wolast clans. He’s shaken up but he survived. The rest of our clan wasn’t so lucky. At least a hundred of us are dead. The enemy had even greater casualties. Their attack force was wiped out. Yarx turned the tide.” Hahnirets said nothing for a few moments but continued to stare.
“At the moment, I have no way of verifying that,” she said. “I’m thinking that you’ve dreamt up this big sob story to hide your affair. You’ve betrayed me, Gany!”
“Wh – what are you talking about, Hahni?” queried Ganylerr, flustered. “What affair? What betrayal?”
“Hah, have you had more than one already?!” said Hahnirets derisively. “I’m talking about your bunk-ups with the serial offender Spaddy. You can deny it but I’ve seen the truth in your lying face. He turned on the charm and you leapt on him, didn’t you?!”
“Hey, don’t talk about us like that!” said Ganylerr. “We’ve been on an important mission. We found evidence of an alien machine takeover in the government. Spadraye’s taken great risks and he still treated me like a gentleman at all times.”
“Oh, here we go!” said Hahnirets. “Alien machines, blah blah. Slugs plotting against our farmers, yak yak. Millipedes under the hammocks, dur-dy-dur-dy-dur-dur. Meanwhile, you’ve taken up residence in his rotten footles just to spite me!”
“How can you say that when Drimpul’s dead, Hahni?!” said Ganylerr. “Olgriz is dead, Grufisha’s dead, Smeyron’s dead, Honiharn’s dead, Vragleb’s dead, Zuplix is dead, Cedala’s dead, Wikmit’s dead, Hauthrab’s d ...” After firing names like bullets, she stopped talking and put her head in her hands as she rode another wave of intense grief.
“It’s no lie,” said Spadraye, holding up his ‘phone. “We’re getting updates as we speak. Another ... fourteen names were just added to the list.”
“Maybe so but it doesn’t change the fact that you footled my sister,” pronounced Hahnirets. “Yeah, I’m sorry for all the brave souls who gave their lives for the clan (apparently) but they knew this might happen sooner or later. Dad crapped in the bath and wondered why it wasn’t so clean anymore. Why did it attract flies? Hmm ...” Spadraye was taken aback by this last turn of phrase. Did Hahnirets know what happened at Phrazquie’s house?
“We didn’t do anything,” said Spadraye. “We went down to Gloida, tried to get the chips analysed, failed because of the conspiracy and came home again. That’s all.” His posture, gestures and tone were unconvincing.
“This is your mission in life, isn’t it?!” snarled Hahnirets. “You drag me down, over and over again. I bet you’ve been doing all sorts behind the scenes. Did you pay Cradrym to use his aphronectar on me? Did you have Uncle Zund killed at the hospital? Did you manufacture those chips so that you could go to Gloida and footle my stupid, naive sister?!”
“Vittin LORKS, woman!” said Spadraye, reaching the end of his tether. “You say I’m evil? Look at yourself in the mirror! See what you’ve become! I’m not dealing with this anymore. Gany, let’s get out of here!” He held her gently in his arms and kissed her softorns before leading her out of the visiting room.
“I’m so sorry about all of this!” said Ganylerr as she backed away from her sister. Hahnirets kept staring at them until the door closed again.
“Take me back to my room now, orderly,” said Hahnirets loudly. “My duty’s done for the day.”
“We’re on a break,” said an orderly. “Wait there for thirty minutes. We’ll get back to you.”
“Vittin cousin footlers!” muttered Hahnirets, irked by their intransigence.
* * * * *
Eventually, Hahnirets was escorted back to her cell. She’d been right about Spaddy and Gany but it brought her no comfort. She was stuck in here because her tolerance had finally snapped. She’d had an awful personal crisis and lost her reason for a while. She’d attacked people who’d come to help. She was deeply embarrassed and felt worthless but that made her more dangerous, if anything. She had little left to lose. To pass the time, she tapped the cell walls, probing for weaknesses. The people in neighbouring cells told her to be quiet but she continued. There was a promising crack under the window. It wasn’t bad enough to be useful. She’d have to work on it. She could use cutlery and her claws. She’d need a piece of paper or fabric to cover her work, though. After twenty minutes of exploratory tapping and scraping, she stopped and lay down in her hammock. A patrol would come around soon. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep but she was too preoccupied with the day’s developments. She expected that her next visitor would bring a heap more bad news. It wasn’t a happy prospect.
Ten minutes later, there was a sudden sound of falling masonry. Hahnirets looked at her walls again. The crack under the window was wider and there was a tiny chink of light at the top end. She was amazed: the delayed effects of the earthquake had finally made a small hole. She probed the crack again with her claws. The cement had become loose and crumbly. She was able to enlarge the hole to a diameter of twelve centimetres. This could be her chance! She lay on the floor and kicked the wall hard. Several more bricks fell out on the far side. She kicked again five times. The hole expanded to a metre in diameter. She was free! She scrambled out, clung to the wall, attached a web and lowered herself to the ground. She retrieved most of her web and scuttled away toward the road. She went through the parking lot, using the cars as cover. She averted her gaze from the spot where she’d found Zund dead. She’d have to move quickly to avoid pursuit and capture. She’d have to go into hiding. She didn’t care about the so-called SORR disease, which was clearly a false pretext to keep her incarcerated. The system would go to great lengths to keep her subjugated. As she approached the road, she saw a large, expensive car drive toward her. She hid behind a small truck and peered at the car. The driver got out, looked around and sniffed the air. He was searching for something or someone. Hahnirets waited for him to leave but then she noticed that he was very tall and strong. In fact, he was a pleasure to view. His scent reached her nostrils. It was absolutely intoxicating! She couldn’t help but get up and walk toward him. Run toward him. Jump into his arms ...
“Hahni, I found you at last!” he said in a rich, smooth, deep voice as he caught her safely. “I’ve been so eager to meet you again! You made such an impression on me the last time we met.”
“Sorry but I don’t remember that,” said Hahnirets. “Would you do me the honour of a quick footle, though? You’re utterly irresistible! I’ve never felt anything like it!” Her caps sprang open without even being tapped.
“Absolutely!” said the man. “That’s the most important task of the day!” He footled her thoroughly, taking care to cover every square centimetre with his stalks. She copied him faithfully, joyfully. This was an excellent way to compensate for Gany’s treachery! Hahnirets forgot about her troubles while she bathed in a sea of sensual pleasure. Soon, they were finished and she asked him about their first meeting.
“I’m not surprised you don’t remember me,” he said. “It was in that circle of ridges where you used to hide from the world. I completely failed to live up to your standards. Now I can live up to them and more. I’ve had a total inversion procedure. It’s the latest medical/spiritual technology.”
“Duenichar?!” queried Hahnirets. “Surely not! You’re a hundred percent different!”
“I am Duenichar but the past doesn’t matter anymore,” said Duenichar with a smirk. “I’m the superior one now. I’ll have the last laugh. They’ve turned me into a weapon of mass seduction. You’ll have my babies. My seed has been programmed to override your defences. Then, I’m going to footle until I drop, which could take weeks!” He webbed her heavily and left her lying on the ground between the parked cars. Then, he went into the hospital to begin seducing and footling anyone he could. Hahnirets was dismayed and dumbfounded. Such a man had never existed before. Left unchecked, he’d cause a massive population increase. Worse than that, if the story of the SORR disease was true, he’d spread SORR to all the mothers and babies. It was a nightmare made real! Hahnirets couldn’t free herself. She had no knife today and Duenichar’s webs were tougher and thicker than average. She wriggled in vain and tried to call for help despite the web muffling her mouth.
* * * * *
“Sergeant, I appreciate that we have to stop the clan wars and rescue people from earthquakes but what are we going to do about the Super Rapist?” asked Quing. “Surely he has to be neutralised?! He’s causing havoc out there! There’ve been tremendous traffic jams, dangerous levels of crowding in population centres, all sorts of disruption to daily life and hundreds of minor injuries.”
“Technically, we should refer to him as the Super Footler,” said Sgt. Graivsond. “I don’t think that we can do anything about him. There’ve been many reports of his problematic behaviour but no complaints or accusations. He seems to cast a spell over everyone he meets. No one wants to criticise him. Basically, he makes himself untouchable. Some people tried to shoot him but his supporters shielded him and then neutralised the shooters. Unless there’s a crime being committed, we can’t take action.”
“Outraging public decency?” proposed Nopar.
“No complaints were made!” said Graivsond.
“Under-age relations?” asked Penvala.
“No evidence has been presented!” said Graivsond.
“How does the giant footler keep going without food, rest and sleep?” queried Gurtsh. “I’m curious.”
“That’s unexplained, except for the food,” replied Graivsond. “Plenty of people donate food to him. He also eats litter, leftovers and stuff from trash cans. He’s even been seen consuming pets and ornamental plants.”
“Cruelty to pets?” suggested Shrupley.
“No, the owners give their consent,” answered Graivsond. “Apparently, there’s a loophole that allows pets to be consumed in emergencies. That covers ravenous, friendly, Super Footlers, I gather.”
“I don’t know why the big fella is doing this!” Dubrieni interjected. “What would make a man build his body so strong and resilient that he could footle thousands of people? It doesn’t make sense. Is he really Arachno Sapiens like us or is he the first of a new, better breed? Are we seeing the conception of a hybrid super race?”
“We can question and speculate all we like but we need to focus on our police work,” said Graivsond. “I believe that we should keep our priorities straight. Our main task for today is to search the ruins of Rhocheph High Street. There’ll be corpses, survivors and many lost valuables. Stay honest, everyone.” There was some grumbling but the officers had to obey their sergeant.
“I’m sensing something,” said Tokise as the group left the OPG. “It’s another earthquake! Get out of the windows!” No one needed a second warning. They opened some windows in the corridor, exited the building and climbed down the wall to ground level. They moved away from the building just in time. The quake hit and the police station began to crack. The damage was fairly substantial but the building still stood.
“Damn, now what do we do?” asked Nokigh.
“I think that everyone got out,” said Graivsond, looking around. “I can see at least a hundred staff here in the road. There are enough people to deal with the damage here. We can still go to Rhocheph High Street.” The group went around the corner to their cars. Unfortunately, the quake had caused the police parking lot to collapse into a sinkhole. All the squad cars were piled up at the bottom. Most of them were beyond repair.
“Someone is dropping doo-doo on us from a great height,” concluded Penvala. “How will the Department find enough money to replace all these cars, let alone the parking lot?”
“We’ll worry about that later,” said Graivsond, who was disappointed yet determined. “To the bus stop! People still need us.” His officers grumbled even louder as they followed him down the road.
“This is beyond nuts!” exclaimed Skiyo. “I wish someone would explain the situation to us. What’s wrecking our town with quakes?”
“What indeed?!” whispered Tokise with a sly smile. No one heard her. No one saw her eyes glow with satisfaction. She was in the home straight now. This period of pretending was nearly over. After that, she’d have a bit of leave and enjoy herself in a more relaxed way.
* * * * *
That night, Spadraye and Ganylerr drove to a hillside just outside their home town and sat in their car, watching the rescue work proceed under floodlights. They’d helped earlier and managed to save several people who’d been trapped in a collapsed shop. They’d also seen disturbing sights like corpses, injuries, traumatised people, opportunistic crimes and widespread property damage. Now, they were trying to come to terms with recent events. Further small quakes shook the town at the rate of one per hour, on average. Most people were scared that their homes would fall on top of them, so thousands of people would sleep outdoors tonight.
“This situation keeps getting worse, doesn’t it?” said Ganylerr. “It makes me feel like a chumstin.”
“You want one?” queried Spadraye. “I can get you one. My Mum has some. We could also buy some...”
“No, that’s not it!” said Ganylerr.
“You don’t have to eat it,” said Spadraye. “You can keep it as a pet. Some of my friends and relatives have them. They don’t need much care but sometimes they escape and nibble your clothes.”
“I meant that I felt I WAS a chumstin,” explained Ganylerr. “It’s like someone has rammed a big metal pole right through me and not in a good way. It’s as if I’m going to be eaten by giants.”
“I used to pretend my chumstins were puppets,” said Spadraye. “A few friends and I would improvise scenes with two chumstins in each hand. Occasionally, we’d put little hats on their bloody heads.”
“You’re not being a good listener tonight,” complained Ganylerr. “We might want to think about going back to your place or Dad’s new house.”
“Then why did I bring my trusty old tent?” said Spadraye. “I wanted to sleep out here with you, not in a garden with your Dad or in my death-trap apartment.” They were quiet for a few minutes. They listened to some news on the radio. It was mainly grim stuff. Soon, they turned it off.
“I want to check in on another girl tomorrow,” said Spadraye. “She was in the hospital last week. We discovered that she had these nasty growths inside. She had surgery and today they discharged her. Apparently the operation went well and she should recover.”
“So you helped to diagnose her?” queried Ganylerr. “How did you manage that?”
“I footled her in the shower but she soon passed out with the pain and whatnot,” replied Spadraye. “It was lucky that I was there. I insisted on popping her caps for the first time and then I helped deal with the mess that resulted.”
“Oh, so that makes me your second deflowering in less than a fortnight,” noted Ganylerr, somewhat displeased. “You do get around, don’t you?”
“I said it before, I’m on the hunt,” said Spadraye. “These things happen. I’ll have to think of a nice present for her. Any suggestions, Gany? I was thinking ‘glass flower necklace’ since I took her original flower!”
“How about a hard hat?” said Ganylerr. “Who knows when something might bash her head?! Perhaps my fist would accidentally swing that way. Get a hard hat for yourself while you’re at it.”
“Have I said something wrong?” asked Spadraye. “I want to make Phrazquie feel better after the health scare and all the other problems lately.”
“Why do I get the feeling that you want to finish the job with her?” queried Ganylerr.
“Oh, that won’t be possible for months!” replied Spadraye. “She had a major operation and lost a few organs. Her footles are now twenty percent shorter than they were. She’ll never have a complete footling experience. Count yourself lucky that you’re not in her position.” Ganylerr understood her own good fortune.
“Alright, sorry for being jealous,” she said. “It just seemed odd that you footled both of us within such a short time. It’s as if some external force were driving you to do it. I imagined you as a kind of puppet, being pushed into place by an unfathomable external force that had rammed a skewer through you.”
“Me, a puppet?” said Spadraye derisively. “I’m only on the rebound! Who’d want to manipulate me in such a way? What outlandish creatures could do such a thing anyway?”
“How about the AI in the government and all over the country?” proposed Ganylerr. Spadraye looked at her seriously for a moment.
“No, surely not!” he said with a little forced laugh. “I’m still me, doing what I would normally in this kind of situation. No one’s interfering. I’d know if they were.” Ganylerr said no more about the subject. Seconds later, there was a tap on the window.
“Excuse me, sir,” said that man who’d tapped. “May I ask you for a little help after the earthquake? Our houses are all gone and ...”
“Not our problem,” said Spadraye. “Take a hike. We’ve done enough for today.” The man noticed that Ganylerr had her pistol trained on him.
“Go to the government for aid, not us!” said Ganylerr. “We’re no mugs.” Spadraye drew his pistol and pointed it at the man. He retreated from the car and ran away rapidly. He was shocked to be threatened so blatantly.
“Things must be really tough if he’s begging like that!” said Spadraye. “Shall we still camp here tonight?”
“Did we just point guns at an earthquake survivor?” asked Ganylerr. “We drew them so quickly! What’s happening to us?” They both stopped to reflect for a few moments.
“Maybe we are being controlled by something,” said Spadraye, looking at his gun. “The earthquake crisis is covering that up yet here we are, guns drawn. Also, I still have this strong urge to connect with more partners. Normally, it’s ‘one at a time’ for me. Something’s changed my desires.”
“Mine too, I guess,” said Ganylerr. “A few months ago, I’d never have spent time with you. I was scared of Hahni and I didn’t want to tread on her stalks. Now, it seems natural to stay with you. I realise that Hahni has become unhinged but I still care for her. I shouldn’t be here but I can’t help myself. You’re becoming my main source of warmth, joy and love.”
“This could grow into a serious problem,” said Spadraye. “It’s becoming harder for us to control ourselves. If I want to stray and you want me to stay, that can only end in failure.” Ganylerr gazed at him, wondering what they were going to do about the problem. Spadraye picked up his ‘phone and called his father.
“I have to tell Dad what we found in Gloida,” he said. “It’s late at night but he must know, even if there’s nothing we can do.”
“Hi Spaddy, what news?” asked Vnex, who was still awake. “Did you solve the mystery of the golden chips?”
“Yeah, I’m afraid so,” said Spadraye. “I should have called earlier but we were busy rescuing people from wrecked buildings. We discovered something awful in Gloida. The artificial intelligence, whatever it is, has taken root in the government. There are golden chips everywhere, even on the Ministers. It’s mind control, Dad. They’ve taken over by stealth. We’re all in big trouble. A lot of us might already be affected. It would explain all the weird behaviour across the country. We should look for as many golden chips as possible and destroy them. That’s the only way out of this. Check your house, Dad. Dad? Are you there?” There was no response. Somehow, the call terminated. Spadraye’s eyes widened in alarm. Was someone listening in? It sounded like a third party had cut him off.
“Damn!” he exclaimed. The next moment, his seatbelt flew unbidden across his body and fastened itself at the locking point. Two seconds later, Ganylerr’s seatbelt did the same. That’s when they knew the car was an AI agent. The engine started and the car began rolling down the hillside. It was heading for the access road.
“Shall we ... shall we shoot it?” asked Ganylerr urgently.
“No, there’d be a ricochet!” said Spadraye. “We’d be shooting ourselves.” They froze and watched, guns held uselessly in their hands. Seconds later, two metal tendrils flashed out of the dashboard, snatched the guns and pulled them inside the dashboard, using secret openings that immediately closed up again.
“We should have abandoned this car but it was too vittin good!” said Spadraye, his panic rising. “Maybe we can break out. I’ll web my arm and smash the side window.”
“Spaddy, I don’t want to die!” said Ganylerr. “Give me a knife! Let me cut this belt! Spaddy!” The two metal tendrils re-emerged. This time, they were tipped with thick needles. Ganylerr screamed loudly and Spadraye yelled. The tendrils stabbed them both in the head and they lost consciousness. Everything went black for an unknown length of time.
* * * * *
“Spadraye, wake up!” said a voice. It sounded familiar. He opened his eyes and there was Hahnirets. Her face was cut and bruised in several places. There was dried blood smeared over it. She’d dressed herself in her own webs. She looked stylish in a classical sort of way. Although webs degraded quickly and web clothing fell apart after a day or two, web couture was still flourishing as a sub-culture. Furthermore, countless millions had been saved from embarrassment by web garments as temporary replacements for regular clothes. They were lightweight, flexible and shimmered in many colours, depending on lighting. Spadraye appreciated this lovely, natural look on Hahnirets but that feeling was overshadowed by dread.
“Who hurt you, Hahni?” he asked. “What happened to your clothes?”
“That freak Duenichar started it,” she replied. “He left me webbed down in a car park. I spent hours rolling around on the hard ground, trying to free myself. I scraped myself in hundreds of places. I was frantic! When I got out eventually, I hailed a cab. The driver took a close look at me - covered with bloody cuts - and got scared. He wanted to drive away but I blocked him. He got out and fought me. He hurt me a bit more but I beat him. I stole his cab and then the darnedest thing happened. The cab came alive and stole me! I felt a sting in my abdomen and got drugged. When I woke up, I was here. My clothes were torn so I spun my own replacements. You know that I have good web style skills.”
“Yes I do,” said Spadraye. “Where is this place, though? I’ve never seen anywhere like it!”
“I’m guessing that this is their base,” said Hahnirets. “The machines must have built it in the wilderness somewhere. I’ve been searching for a way out but it’s impenetrable.”
“What do you mean?” queried Spadraye. “I can see the countryside all around us. We should be able to walk out.” He went fifty metres ahead and hit an invisible barrier.”
“We’re surrounded by a giant screen,” explained Hahnirets. “It shows us the outside but keeps us inside.”
“Are there any toilets in here?” asked Spadraye.
“No, just use a corner,” replied Hahnirets. “I believe that we won’t have to worry about toilets for much longer anyway.”
“Why do you say that?” asked Spadraye, urinating on the screen wall.
“Because I’ve been shown thousands of executions over the last few hours,” answered Hahnirets. “They’re eliminating a lot of people. It seems to be mainly those who cause them trouble.”
“So you think that we’re on their hit list?” queried Spadraye.
“Yes, there’s another batch of executions coming in a moment,” replied Hahnirets. “They’re disturbingly regular and punctual.”
“Wait, where’s Gany?” asked Spadraye, suddenly remembering. “I was with her in our car and then it stabbed us right between the eyes. It totally disrupted my train of thought.”
“I wish I could tell you,” replied Hahnirets with a resigned shrug. “We’re condemned prisoners. I managed to escape from that asylum thanks to the earthquake but this place is much tougher.” They sat on the floor together and watched some executions. At least three hundred people in quick succession were shown being shot, slashed, stabbed, burnt, punched, kicked, exploded, hung, drowned, eviscerated and otherwise done to death.
“My God!” murmured Spadraye. After a few minutes, he couldn’t watch anymore. Hahnirets kept watching. She wanted to see the fate awaiting her. She noticed that some of the attacks were carried out by metallic creatures with advanced weapons. Some were larger than others. Some had pieces of vehicles attached to them. She deduced that they were actually disguising themselves as vehicles. At the end of the sequence, she realised that she could read the on-screen captions. They were in an alien language but something had given her the ability to decode it. The final few captions read:
‘Daljil: Thoklet clan enforcer’
‘Ymorin: witness to multiple Cybertronian incursions’
‘Saryojen: brushed up too many bugs’
‘Yahqult: gastrointestinal surgeon’
‘Schulzouf: plain annoying’
‘Yednala: insisted on new music when there was so much good, old music available’
These seemed to be justifications for their executions. If so, they were a complete travesty of justice.
“It can’t be long now, surely!” said Spadraye, his panic rising again. “I really need to see my family and friends, at least to say goodbye.” He went back to the edge of the screen and defecated copiously.
“Before you ask, there are no wipes,” said Hahnirets. “Use your webs if you have any left.” Spadraye followed her advice and then came back to sit with her. After a few minutes, they felt a strong earthquake. It made them fall over but, when they got up, they hoped that they’d be able to break out. They searched for cracks in the screen walls but found none. They shot webs up to the screen ceiling and climbed about ‘on the sky’ but still found no way out. When they came down, Hahnirets punched and kicked the walls in frustration. It didn’t work for her this time. That was to be expected when the walls felt like sheet metal. Soon, another batch of execution videos began. This one seemed different. The backgrounds were more local. Most of them were in Spadraye and Hahnirets’ home town.
“Oh, vittineck!!!” cried Spadraye as he suspected what was about to be shown.
‘Gienetur: excessively helpful’
‘Amihaif: bisexual’
‘Vulli: counterfeiter’
‘Eyklayr: organ shaft torturer’
‘Rassep: grumpy’
‘Ophastrez: too efficient and world-weary’
The sight of repeated deaths bludgeoned their minds. The names reeled on.
“YOU BASTARDS!!!” shouted Spadraye. “You’re dead, you’re all DEAD! I won’t rest until ...”
‘Lopotym: killer of small, defenceless animals’
‘Triana: failed mother and gangster’
Hahnirets shrieked at an ear-splitting volume as she watched her mother and mother-in-law being machine-gunned in separate locations. More names whizzed by.
‘Tnafald: these ridiculous names, honestly! Their owners deserve to die.’
‘Tirneby: brush with incest’
‘Vnex: old duffer, easily fooled’
‘Graivsond: his badge didn’t save him’
‘Nopar: egg mixer (ha ha!), part-time cop, lover of vibes’
‘Quing: completes the joke’
“I hope to GOD that these are simulations!!!” shouted Hahnirets. “You’ll all burn! I’ll get a flame thrower and wipe you out!”
“Dad, no!” gasped Spadraye, weeping.
‘Gondil: look mate, you can’t escape just by moving house. We have eyes everywhere.’ Hahnirets felt a spear of ice pierce her soul. Her father could be seen bleeding out on his new lounge floor.
“Welcome to the end of your world!” said a voice over the screen.
“Yarx?!” exclaimed Hahnirets. “Are you behind all this?! Did you just kill ...?” She could see him addressing them comfortably from behind a desk.
“I’m afraid that Yarx died several days ago,” said the fake Yarx, who was starting to change shape. “I’m his stand-in, if you will. I’ve been holding the fort. It’s been a relatively amusing secondment.”
“Do you have no hearts at all?!” interjected Spadraye furiously. “We’ve just seen our loved ones murdered in horrific ways! Let us go, you monster!”
“What would be the point of that?” asked the fake Yarx. “Your world is ending, as is this other world we’ve brought over to do the job. It’s a world that’s ruled by sentient flies, ironically enough. Why use our weapons when we can teleport planets?!” The screen showed another planet suddenly appearing and filling half the sky.
“WHY?!” demanded Hahnirets, her eyes wide upon seeing her ultimate doom. “WHY ALL THIS?!”
“My real name is Swindler,” said Swindler calmly. “My staff and I have been playing a fun game while our main mission of galactic extermination continues. We’ve had a great time, so thank you all!” Behind Swindler, another enemy walked into shot. Spadraye recognised her as Tokise.
“Hi Spaddy, did you like the book?” she asked.
“Back off, you trollop!” spat Hahnirets, having lost control of her emotions.
“We dated once,” explained Tokise. “He was very generous but I ran out on him and made him pay the bill. Yeah, I’m like that. I’m the sort of person who puts the ‘count’ in ‘countryside’, if you know what I mean!”
“No I don’t, you intergalactic floozy!” shouted Hahnirets. “Stick your ugly head up your own count!”
“Listen to me, you vittin horrendous spider creep!” said Tokise in a low, menacing register as she leant forward. “If anyone’s ugly here, it’s you. Abortions like you shouldn’t try to insult us. We’re the Transformer army of Primus and NO ONE screws with us, even if they have excessively long genitals like you! We’re crushing all life in your galaxy FOR THE GREATER GOOD. You’re too primitive and bizarre to even begin to understand.” She stood back and glared at Spadraye and Hahnirets as her body morphed into its true mechanoid form. She and Swindler cut the video feed. Spadraye and Hahnirets were left looking at more text, which said:
‘GAME OVER
Character Spadraye: 86% correct manoeuvres
Character Hahnirets: 88% correct manoeuvres
Seed bearer High Woods Savage: deployed fully
Blocker Amihaif: failed
Blocker Phrazquie: failed
Blocker Cradrym: failed
Blocker Solurmys: failed
Weapon Duenichar: created and deployed fully
Weapon SORR: mutated and spread
Infection rate: 1.093 million
Threshold of 1 million crossed!
Winner: pro-infection team ‘B-Itch’
Loser: anti-infection team ‘A-Scratch’
Thank you for playing. Have a nice day!’
“Hold me,” said Hahnirets, utterly crestfallen. “Take away the pain. It’s beyond endurance.” She slumped against Spadraye, her spirit in freefall.
“They won’t beat us in the end, those sadistic machines,” said Spadraye, hugging her. “We’ll come back and have the last laugh.”
“Yeah, one day,” said Hahnirets. “We’ll have to find a way. We can’t let this go!”
‘Ganylerr: died pregnant with Spaddy’s babies! Look, we’ve cut her open to show you!’
Hahnirets gritted her teeth, swore vehemently and pulled herself out of the lying philanderer Spadraye’s embrace as the shockwave of the other planet raced through the atmosphere toward them. The screen went dead and the metal walls collapsed under the blast. Two life worlds met their ends in a superheated embrace. The Transformer forces teleported away. They had millions more worlds to destroy. There wouldn’t always be time for games but they looked forward to the next one. They hadn’t had this much fun in billions of years!
InspirationsThe problems of life on Earth
Spiders!
Various types of ‘spider people’ in fiction
Movie ‘Planet of the Apes’ (original version)
Movie ‘Alien 3’
Sasquatch
BBC TV comedy ‘Not the Nine O’Clock News’
The Wraith enemy from TV sci-fi show ‘Stargate: Atlantis’
The Centauri people from TV sci-fi drama ‘Babylon 5’
Cross-species viruses such as HIV and ebola
A broken window during a burglary at my flat: nothing was stolen, no one was hurt. Also, broken windows at my workplace caused by a gang of teenagers.
My appendectomy in November 2015: I had gangrene in my appendix and my life expectancy was only a few weeks before the operation! That was a close one!
Levothyroxine tablets, which have perked me up considerably since July 2016
My Muse, Ambassador Ri-Ri [congratulations on the new title]: less specifically this time; more of an overall influence.
The scene where two namus are consumed at a dinner party seems to have inspired a similar scene in 'Rick and Morty', season 4, episode 1 (wasp people consume a caterpillar person).