Zero Recall (39 page)

After a long moment, the
Prime Commander outside sighed.  “Well...ash.”

Then Joe was alone with
the Huouyt.  Though Joe knew the night would go a lot quicker for him if he
gave in to the twinges of fear he felt, Joe glared as the assassin traced his
skin.

Give it your best, asher.

The Huouyt’s fingers
traveled down to the pulsing artery in Joe’s neck and Joe tensed.  He felt
another sting and suddenly he remembered how to talk.  In fact, he found he
had
to talk.

“You’d better not hurt
her,” he blurted.

The Huouyt made an amused
snort.  “Your own safety is the issue here, Joe.  You and I are going to play a
game, much like the sexual one we were about to engage in, except with pain
instead of pleasure.”

Joe had to fight with
every ounce of control he had to keep his mouth shut.  Some inhibition had been
battered away to nothing and now he felt compelled to blurt out the first
things that came to mind.

“At the end of the game,
you will experience pain so great it will change you forever.  It will not kill
you.  No.  I believe that is too lenient a death for one with so little respect
for my profession.”  The Huouyt started pacing around him on the bed, looking
down at his prone form.  “You will serve as an example to others for the rest
of your long life.”  He smiled down at Joe.  “Are you ready?”

“Not really,” Joe said.  “Actually,
I’d rather you leave right now.”

The Huouyt’s Human face
smiled.  “I’m sure you would.”

“What drug did you use on
me?”

“And why would you care?”
the assassin said.  “What do you know of drugs?”

“I want to know if it’s
the same one Jer’ait uses.”

The Huouyt laughed.  “Of
course it is. 
Vembiridol.
  The chemical compounds are so complex that
only a true master can reproduce it.  I use nothing else.”

“You sure don’t mind
barking up your own tree, do you?” Joe blurted.

The Huouyt gave him a
long, hard stare.  “After meeting with you, I educated myself on Human
tolerances in preparation for our next encounter.  Let’s see how you like
this.”

He reached out and took
Joe’s wrist.  Joe tried to flinch away, but the Huouyt easily held him in
place.

The pain that shot up
from the veins in his hand was like someone had poured boiling acid into his
heart.  Joe felt his chest heaving in a scream before he heard it.

The Huouyt smiled in
Leila’s pattern as Joe screamed, then watched him pant as the pain ebbed.  “I’m
sorry.  Was that one not to your liking?  I’m sure I can find something
better.”  He reached out again.

This time, Joe thought he
would lose his mind.  His world centered on the tearing, biting agony that
coursed through his veins with every beat of his heart.  Every nerve was
suddenly afire with horrible, rending pain.  He felt his heart shy away from
it, palpitating, slowing.

“Oops,” the Huouyt said,
bringing him back to his senses.  “Looks like I might’ve given you a slight
overdose with that one.  My mistake.”

“No problem,” Joe
panted.  “I’m sure you make a lot of them.”

The Huouyt’s expression
hardened.

Joe grinned, despite
knowing he was in for a long night.

#

Flea clung to the wall,
hiding behind the gear rack.  He had heard Joe enter the room while he’d been
rooting through his things, trying to gain some sort of idea of just who their
Prime really was.  Flea had hit the wall in a panic, hoping the Human wouldn’t
hear the buzz of his wings.

The Human started rooting
around the room like a nesting Dhasha.  Flea tensed, terrified he’d been
caught, but slowly relaxed again when he realized Joe hadn’t noticed his
intrusion and was simply moving the equipment.

But why?

Feeling exposed on the
wall, where other species’ eyes so commonly rested, Flea carefully began to
climb toward the ceiling, thankful the Congies had painted his carapace a dull
black to go with the walls.  Step by painful step, he made his way to the domed
red light and hid behind it.

Tentatively, he peeked
around the light, trying to judge whether or not he could safely crawl across
the ceiling and out the door.

Flea watched, intrigued,
as Joe went to the wall and dimmed the lights to a soft glow.

Further confusing him,
the Human went to the com unit and put a horrid cacophony over the intercom system,
one that made Flea’s carapace and wings vibrate uncomfortably.  He scuttled
away from the intercom unit, hoping the lights were dim enough that the Human
did not see him.

Then his Prime went and
made a call requesting candles.  What the hell?

To his surprise, another Human
joined his Prime a short while later, this one smaller and with more bulges.  Standing
on the floor, the two Humans began to strip off each other’s outer garments and
grope each other’s sexual organs.  Flea paused.  Then he leaned forward from
the ceiling, watching with interest.

Joe’s body suddenly
stiffened and slumped to the ground.

The smaller Human lifted
his Prime from the floor and carried him to the rectangular bed the Human
seemed to prefer.

I know what this is,
Flea thought suddenly.  
They’re
mating.

Fascinated, Flea settled
in to watch.

The first time Joe
screamed, Flea found it intriguing.  What kind of creatures—except a Jreet—could
make mating a painful experience and expect to survive as a species?

The second time Joe
screamed, Flea realized something was wrong.  He scuttled closer, so he could
hear their words.

He heard the one Human
apologize and Flea began to relax.  Then Joe began to scream out curses that
left no mistake of his feelings toward the female.  Flea crept closer, until he
was perched atop the ceiling directly above them.

Though he was on his
back, Joe didn’t see him.  His eyes were fixed on the other Human.  Flea
strained to hear.

The strange Human
laughed.  “Oh no.  I will enjoy my full two hours.  And in the end, you will
serve as a warning for others who would dare to interfere in Huouyt affairs.” 
It reached for Joe again.

The way Joe flinched
away, Flea knew something was very wrong.  It was almost as if he couldn’t
move…

It’s a Huouyt.
 

Thunderous miga, it’s
a
Huouyt
.

Flea recoiled and fought
the urge to scrabble backwards.  He held very still, trying to make sense of
it.  It was a Huouyt, but not Jer’ait. 

Jer’ait was standing
watch over the Jreet.  Even though the walls had been black and Flea had been
as quiet as possible, his groundmate had caught him eavesdropping on the
operation and had told him to go make himself useful.

Joe screamed again.  The Human’s
vocal range was alarming, reverberating off the walls in what was obviously not
pleasure.

Flea glanced at the
door.  Locked.  He could open it and escape, but that would leave the Huouyt
alone with his Prime.

Flea could have destroyed
another creature in less than a tic.  A Huouyt, however, was almost immune to
his particular abilities.  No sooner would Flea spit on him than the Huouyt
would simply slough off the skin and dart him with a pen-tranquilizer.

Yet he had to do
something.

The Huouyt reached for
the Human again and Flea decided it was time to act.  He dropped from the
ceiling, landing on the Huouyt’s arm.  Even as the Huouyt’s surprise was
beginning to register, Flea spat, taking him full in the face, in the eyes.  At
the same time, he snipped off the arm.

This time, it was the
Huouyt who screamed.

Flea knew he had to
follow up his advantage quickly, before the alien could regenerate itself.  He
scuttled to the edge of the bed and, while the Huouyt stumbled backwards, Flea
spat at his feet.

The Huouyt fell over
backwards, pinned by its Human ankle.  Flea knew that wouldn’t last long, so he
hopped from the bed and hovered over to the Huouyt’s face, filling in the rest
of its eyes as he desperately tried to think of how to kill a Huouyt.

The Huouyt’s unhurt arm
slammed into Flea, swatting him with all the depressing power of a land-lubber. 
Flea hit the far wall and dropped to the floor in a daze.  Vaguely, he noticed
the Huouyt getting back to its feet, and Joe continued to lie in his bed,
unable to help him.  Flea eyed the Human with frustration.  Strong enough to
stomp him into an incoherent mush at a friendly jest, but not strong enough to
lift his pinkie finger when it was needed.

The Huouyt had sloughed
off half its Human face, leaving the red, wormy appendages writhing in its
forehead above new and awkwardly-placed eyes.  “That,” the Huouyt said, his
voice deadly, “Was a mistake.”  He pulled his feet free of the floor, leaving
red pieces of Human flesh still attached to the metal grating.

On the bed, the Human
twitched again, stronger this time. 
Time,
Flea thought. 
I need to
buy us time.
  Flea spat at the Huouyt again, once more pinning his feet to
the floor.  Then he again took out the eyes.  Then the mouth, then the nose.

“You wretched little
pest!” the Huouyt screamed.  Another slab of flesh sloughed off his face and
into a puddle on the floor.  The Huouyt’s enraged eyes moved in its head,
calibrating themselves.  Flea tried to spit again, but his glands couldn’t
produce glue fast enough. 

Watching the Huouyt tear
his foot from the ground a second time, Flea knew his time in the world was
limited.  He tried to get into the air, but one of his wings had broken in half
in his fall.  Desperately, he tried to scuttle his way towards the ceiling, but
the Huouyt scraped him off the wall and threw him to the floor, where he
stomped a cruel boot over his spitter. 

Unlike Joe, he knew how
to really make it hurt.  Flea was babbling incoherently in moments as the
Huouyt ground his most sensitive apparatus into the hard metal.

After several tics, the
Huouyt let up just enough to allow Flea to recover some of his senses, a look
of smug satisfaction over his face.  “You furgish little worm.  Just what did
you think you were going to do, eh?  There is nothing a simpering little fool
like you can do to me that I can’t mend.”

“I know,” Flea
whimpered.  A shadow fell in behind the Huouyt and Flea laughed through his
pain.  “But he can.”

The Huouyt blinked and
turned—just in time to receive a knife the length of Flea’s body in the center
of its
zora.

The Huouyt collapsed like
a machine that had lost its source of power.  The Human followed it down and
hacked its head from its body, tossing the result halfway across the room in
disgust.  “Mend that, leafmunch.” 

“It wore off faster than
I thought it would,” Flea said, struggling back to his feet.  “I thought it
would be another two tics, at least.”  

The look on the Human’s
face was thunderous.  “I’ve been building up my resistance lately.  What were
you doing in my chambers?”

“I was searching your
belongings for something interesting.”  Flea’s head cocked when he noticed the
pattern etched into the Human’s chest.  “That symbol seems familiar.”

“It’s from a Sentinel,”
Joe said.  “Daviin bound to me.”  Then, oddly, the Human’s entire body
tightened and he looked like he was straining against something.  “Get out,” he
said through gritted teeth.  “I will deal with the Huouyt.”

Flea glanced at the
beheaded Huouyt, then back at his Prime.  “He gave you a truth serum, didn’t
he?”

“Yes,” the Human said
automatically.  His brows furrowed.  “Get out.  Now.”  The Human went to the
door and opened it.

In reply, Flea scampered
up the wall and clung to the ceiling, out of reach.  “Why, Commander?” he said
gleefully.  He eyed the dead Huouyt to make sure it wasn’t about to resurrect
itself, then said, “This could be so much fun.”

When it was obvious Flea
was not leaving, the Human’s face took on the hue of a Jreet’s body.  “Flea…”

“So you have your very
own Sentinel?  Does anyone else know?”

“Yes.  Only Jer’ait.” 
The Human cursed and clenched a fist.  He glanced up at Flea, then out the
door.

“You don’t want to
leave,” Flea said.  “Think of all the trouble you could get in out there if you
had to tell the truth.  Better to stay put until it wears off.  Isn’t it,
Commander?”

“Yes,” Joe blurted.

With a furious look that
promised pain later, the Human slammed his fist against the door-lock, shutting
it.  “I guess you don’t remember what happened last time you cowered on the
ceiling,” he growled.  He reached for the nearest handy object—his boot—and
hefted it.

Flea sobered.  “Ah, come
on, Commander.  Let me have my fun.  I just saved your life.”

The Human glanced
reflexively at the dead Huouyt.  Then his arm relaxed and he let the boot slide
to the floor.  His huge lungs drew in a deep breath and expelled it again. 
“Fine, Flea.  I don’t have anything I need to hide from you, anyway.”

“That’s more like it. 
Come stand underneath me a moment.  My wing’s busted and only three of my legs
are working right.”

The Human did, and
obligingly held out his arms to catch him.  Flea was half-sure he would remove
his arms at the last moment, letting him collide painfully with the floor, but
the Human faithfully caught him and set him on the chair in the corner of the
room.  Then, sighing, Joe slumped onto the bed, sprawled out, staring at the
ceiling much as he had been only tics before.

Only this time, his chest
and forearms were covered with bright red blood where he had performed the
grisly task of hacking off the Huouyt’s head.

Flea considered all the
tantalizing things he could ask, then settled with, “Where did you get your
scars?”