The League of Sharks (29 page)

‘Stop it,' shouted Lasel. ‘Stop!'

Mestrowe stopped laughing. He grabbed hold of Junk and stopped him swinging. The atmosphere ran cold.

‘Cut their throats. Let them bleed out,' said Mestrowe to Rumanow. ‘Then dump their bodies in the desert. The scavengers can have them.'

Junk and Lasel looked on with wild, staring eyes as Rumanow drew out a long blade and started advancing on them as Mestrowe strode away.

Junk and Lasel swung next to each other, powerless. Junk raced through the distant corners of his mind for something, a way out.

‘This is your last chance,' he shouted. ‘Free us or die.'

Mestrowe stopped and turned, looking furious but only for a moment. Then his face exploded into a huge grin and he started choking with laughter. All the Pallatans joined in. Tears were streaming down Mestrowe's face as he held his arms wide. ‘How?' he said. ‘How do you intend to kill us?'

‘Free us or die,' he said again.

‘Maybe I should keep you around for the entertainment value,' said Mestrowe through his laughter. He stopped laughing abruptly. ‘But no,' he said. ‘Kill them.' Once again he turned to leave, but as he did so the dazzling glow of a doorway of green light appeared on the far side of the exercise yard. Everyone turned. Junk breathed a sigh of relief: the cavalry was here.

There was movement and someone stepped out of the doorway. Junk frowned. It was not what he had been
expecting. Standing in the green glow was a short, stocky creature, not quite half a metre high and about as wide as he was tall. He looked like a moving boulder with stubby little legs. His skin was a milky pale colour and he was dressed in rags. His head was small, his face smaller still. His eyes and mouth (no nose) were squished into the middle of his face, framed by an expanse of featureless white skin.

‘What's that?' said one of the Pallatans with an amused sneer.

More movement now and more of the little creatures stepped through the portal. About two dozen or so.

Orrant got to his feet. He was breathing heavily and had a worried look on his face. ‘We need to go,' he said mostly to himself and turned, breaking into a run. The other Pallatans looked after Orrant and laughed. They exchanged puzzled looks. Who would be afraid of such creatures?

The tiny men who had come through the doorway were hard to tell apart. All were pretty much the same height, build and colouring, and all dressed alike. They fanned out, each moving towards one of the Pallatans, with a docile mouth and twinkling eyes. They looked and moved in a dreamlike fashion. Like they were sleepwalking through bubblegum.

‘What do you want, titch?' said one of the Pallatans.

In response, the little man standing in front of him smiled serenely and held out his hand. The Pallatan was about to take it when, in the blink of an eye, the little man
pounced into the air and latched on to him. In that instant, they all attacked. They were like people who have been in the desert for too long and have spotted an oasis. Despite the vast difference in size and strength, the Pallatans instinctively backed away as the little men kept coming.

One of them ran at Rumanow, who kicked out at him, catching him square in the chest. The Pallatan's foot embedded itself in the small man's torso as if it was hollow and he hopped around comically, trying to shake off the tiny body attached to him. Finally he sat on the ground and pulled it off. Only then did he notice that its face was gone. There was a gap in the middle of its head where the face had been. Rumanow paused for a moment, trying to work out what had happened. Then he felt something on his back and twisted, trying to see what was there.

What was there was a milk-white snake-like creature, about four inches long, bearing the face of the little man who had attacked him at the front of its slimy, fat little tuberous body. It slithered swiftly up Rumanow's torso towards his head. Panicking now, the Pallatan was trying to grab it or brush it off, but the creature moved too rapidly. It reached his ear and dived in, burrowing inside. Rumanow grabbed his head and started screaming.

Junk had been watching, transfixed by what was happening to Rumanow, who was directly in front of him. He looked on with horror now. Then he became aware of more screams. Screams from all around the compound. All the Pallatans were being attacked. Some were fighting
back; most had already lost. Some were on the ground, wrestling with their small round assailants. Others were thrashing about, trying to shake off the fat white worms. Others, like Rumanow, were just sitting there, silent and dazed, staring blankly in front of them.

Jacid Mestrowe was sitting on top of one of the little men, pummelling him with his big fists. Suddenly the little man's body collapsed in on itself and Mestrowe's fists went straight through his calcified chest cavity. Mestrowe looked down at the creature, looked into his eyes, and for a moment the Pallatan thought he had won.

Then he watched in horror and disbelief as the creature strained and twisted its face and ripped it back, separating it from the middle of its own head. The face vanished from view for a moment and then reappeared, gliding up Mestrowe's arm on a larval body.

Mestrowe hurled himself backwards and started flailing about on the ground, trying to shake the creature off. He paused for a moment, having lost track of its progress. He looked down at his sleeve. A trail of pus was leading up his arm and he followed it over his back to the opposite shoulder. He twisted his head to look and there was the creature. It winked at him before launching itself at the side of his head. Mestrowe felt it penetrate his ear. He tried to grab it but it slipped between his fingers.

Mestrowe froze. He could feel it moving about inside his head. The creature followed the Pallatan's ear canal until, burrowing deeper, it drilled into his brain. Mestrowe grabbed his head in both hands and rolled
around the floor, screaming in agony, bucking and jerking. Inside him, the creature reached his brain stem and wound itself around it, fixing his position with tiny barbs that grew out of his underbelly.

Junk and Lasel stared, taking in the astonishing sight. All the Pallatans were calming down now. One by one they developed the same sleepy expression on their faces. The screaming around the compound gradually petered out until a hush descended over the area. All was still.

A new shadow appeared in the door of green light. Garvan stepped into the compound and moved through the detritus of the little people's discarded bodies. He made his way to Junk and Lasel.

‘What happened?' asked Junk. ‘What are they?'

‘These are Twrisks,' said Garvan.

‘What have they done to the Pallatans?' asked Lasel. ‘Have they killed them?'

Garvan shook his head. ‘Quite the opposite. Twrisks are “gelda”. I'm not sure what the translation is in English. They live inside the host. Attach themselves to their brain stem, and then it's like the host has a pilot. Their problem was that the only species they're compatible with are Pallatans, but there aren't any Pallatans on Tremmelleer so they build these funny little bodies …' he glanced around at all the discarded desiccated carcasses scattered over the floor, ‘… but it's only half a life. They jumped at the chance to come here.'

*

The battle was over now and the Pallatans had lost. The Twrisks had each found a host body. Some chose to share a host with a mate. Garvan helped Lasel and Junk down.

‘I don't understand,' said Junk. ‘How come they live somewhere with no Pallatans if they need Pallatans?'

‘They were exiled there a long time ago and they can't travel very easily or very far. These bodies they build for themselves are functional but basic.' Garvan picked up a discarded leg and handed it to Junk. On examination, Junk saw that it was hollow. It appeared to be made out of animal hair, mud and some sort of shiny discharge.

‘So the Twrisks are just the little wormy things?'

‘That's right,' said Garvan. ‘The rest is like a shell to a crab.'

‘Wow,' said Lasel. ‘Who exiled them?'

‘Pallatans, of course,' said Garvan. ‘Wouldn't you?'

*

Junk sought out Jacid Mestrowe and stood over him. Mestrowe sat on the floor, shivering and cupping his right ear.

‘K-k-kill me,' he pleaded to Junk, and a flash of pain inflicted by the Twrisk inside him shot through his body. ‘Don't be like that,' said Mestrowe, but the inflection in his voice was different. It was the Twrisk inside him speaking through him, using Mestrowe's own vocal cords, tongue and mouth. Mestrowe rose to his feet clumsily and looked at Garvan.

‘You were as good as your word,' said the Twrisk, using Mestrowe's mouth.

‘Is that you, Payo?' asked Garvan.

‘It is,' said Mestrowe's mouth.

Garvan turned to Junk and Lasel. ‘Payo was one of the first Twrisks I met when I got to Tremmelleer. Payo, these are the friends I told you about – Junk and Lasel.'

‘I'm happy to meet you,' said Payo–Mestrowe. ‘Garvan told us about your journey. Sounds epic. So I picked the bad guy, huh? What do you want to do with him?'

‘Well, my plan had always been to kill him, but he seems to want that to happen now so I think leaving him how he is would be a worse punishment.'

‘No,' barked Mestrowe, but Payo inflicted pain on him somehow and he pulsed and then was quiet.

‘But I'd like to ask a favour of you, Payo. I want you to come with me to take him back home. I need to show my mother I wasn't lying, that I didn't kill my sister; he did. Would you mind? After that, I'll take you to Tremmelleer or wherever you want to go.'

‘No problem,' said Payo–Mestrowe.

‘No,' said Mestrowe, and then he flinched in pain again.

‘It takes a while to break them in,' said Payo–Mestrowe. ‘I'll happily come with you. I've been stuck on Tremmelleer for such a long time it'd be good to see somewhere else.'

*

The Pallatan–Twrisks explored the compound. Garvan had promised to return them to Tremmelleer if that was
where they wanted to go, but only about half a dozen took him up on the offer. The rest decided to stay put and explore the world in their new bodies.

*

Junk returned to the hotel room and found Lasel was there already. She looked sad.

‘What's wrong?' asked Junk.

‘You'll be leaving soon,' she said. ‘Going home.'

‘That's right,' said Junk.

‘Your home's a long way from here.'

‘Not that far. Only about six thousand miles … and three million years.' They both smiled.

‘Will I ever see you again?' asked Lasel.

Junk frowned, considering for the first time that he would have to part ways with Lasel, and Garvan too. ‘You could come with me.' Junk didn't want to leave Lasel, but was trying not to sound too desperate. Unfortunately he overcompensated, and to Lasel it sounded like he really didn't care one way or the other.

She shook her head. ‘I don't belong there.'

‘I guess not,' said Junk. He really wanted to say the exact right thing, the thing that would make her come with him, but his mind was blank. ‘What will you do now?'

Lasel shrugged. ‘I don't know. See where life takes me. It's how I've lived since I was seven years old. It's worked out so far.' She gave him a thin smile.

Junk wondered what would happen if he told her how he felt. He wished Garvan hadn't made his feelings
towards Lasel known. Would his friendship with Garvan survive? Would she laugh in Junk's face? Or worse, be embarrassed? He decided it was far better to say nothing and if Lasel felt anything at all for him, then maybe he would pick up on a hint from her.

A doorway of green light materialized in the middle of the room and Garvan stepped through, holding the box in its dodecahedron form. The doorway closed after him.

‘That's all the Pallatan–Twrisks that wanted to go back returned to Tremmelleer,' said Garvan. ‘What are you two talking about?'

‘Nothing,' said Junk and Lasel together, which sounded suspicious. ‘Just about me going home,' added Junk.

‘Oh, you're not going home yet,' said Garvan casually.

‘Err, yeah, Garvan, I am. I have to, mate. I haven't seen my mum and my dad for years. I've done what I came here to do.'

‘Oh, I understand that,' said Garvan. ‘It's just you don't go. Not yet.'

‘What? Why not?'

‘I don't know. It wasn't in the dream.' Garvan shrugged and headed into the bathroom, closing the door after him. Junk and Lasel only had time to exchange a quick look of mutual puzzlement and then the door to the bathroom opened again and Garvan stuck his head out. ‘It might have something to do with what Mestrowe tells you.'

‘What do you mean? What does he tell me?'

‘I don't know,' said Garvan. ‘That wasn't part of the dream either.'

*

Junk headed out of the hotel and went back to the compound. All the remaining Pallatan–Twrisk hybrids were awake. Twrisks didn't need to sleep. Pallatans did, but the Twrisks could put their bodies into sleep mode any time they wanted and twenty minutes would recharge them. Pallatans who learned to embrace their passenger could live long and fulfilling lives. Those that didn't would also live long lives but would lose their Pallatan mind along the way. It would retreat to some dark, dank corner of their psyche and stay there shivering for the rest of their days. The Twrisk would have full control but it would be a lonely existence. Twrisks preferred the company.

Junk found Payo–Mestrowe in the compound's kitchen sampling all sorts of different types of food.

‘Junk,' said Payo when he saw him approaching, ‘would you like some blue stuff?' He offered Junk a tub with a blue-tinged dip inside. ‘What's it called?'

Junk shrugged, but realized almost immediately that Payo wasn't talking to him. He was talking to Mestrowe. It was quite disconcerting.