it.’
‘N-space detonation. Five gramme yield,’ said a mere monitoring incursions.
‘Why would anybody set off one of those for?’ Kilroy mumbled.
The techie frowned. ‘I’m not sure. It’s possible the radiation and shock waves could destabilise the field harmonics.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning,’ said a second techie, ‘that somebody might’ve just built themselves a door in and out of the field wall.’
‘They could do that?’
‘Theoretically, like drawing a bunch of lines on a page then cutting out a hole in the middle. The lines are gone, they can’t exist in that gap.’
‘Get the fields down now!’ Kilroy said quietly. One minute later, the fields came down. Kilroy and the other meres smashed and shot their way into Fraddo’s inner sanctum, a bedroom with a large and messy bed in the middle and no butler droid.
Of Fraddo there was no sign.
Kilroy’s face remained deathmask-still. Nothing was ever easy.
Aware of Kilroy’s failure, Black proceeded with his experiments. He did not sleep much and preferred to work late at night, sensing that the incessant ‘hum’ of other human beings going about their daily business was missing. The absence of the humming soothed him.
Black had constructed an experimental lab adjacent to the underground complex where Karl, Mika andJeera Mosoon worked, though none knew what he did there. Through one-way windows of padded cells he watched as a man and a woman were gradually transformed into monsters.
Since his first experiments on Reema’s End, and his initial field test on the Engineering Platform orbiting Telegus, Black had refined his DNA resequencing technique; he had also verified, for the nth time, the artificial chromosomes containing the active genes for transformation. The designed virus inserted the new chromosomes reasonably rapidly. But what was still lacking was the elusive element of control. And without that the experiment would be deemed as much a failure as his attempts to export Anneke Longshadow.
Two hours later Black was back where he had started. He paced, frustrated. When he received word that the Envoy had arrived with Kilroy, he sat quietly behind his desk and told the door to open.
Kilroy entered first. The Envoy followed, moving as silently as a shark.
Black raised an eyebrow, his own seething emotions forgotten for the moment. ‘I take it Fat Fraddo, glutton-extraordinaire, is still on the loose? All two hundred-and-forty highly trained and mobile flabby kilos?’
The sarcasm brought Kilroy to a momentary stop.
‘I have people out looking for him.’
‘Is there a leak in your squad?’
Kilroy’s head twitched ever so slightly. ‘No leak. Maybe at your end?’
‘Good point. Someone on the Quesadan council.
I’ll look into that.’
Kilroy glanced at the nearest chamber where the transmogrified female was having a noiseless seizure on the floor. Kilroy wandered over and stared dumbly at the horrific spectacle. Finally he turned and glanced at Black, then the Envoy. A man of few words, his question was easily read.
‘My science experiment,’ Maximus said.
‘She’s dead.’
‘What do you feel, Kilroy?’ Maximus asked.
‘Nothing,’ Kilroy replied. But his eyes betrayed him. Already he had glanced at the Envoy twice. He had come in here unarmed, of course, and sensed his own imminent danger.
‘That’s twice now you have failed me, Kilroy.
Suffice to say I’m very disappointed.’ He gave the Envoy a nod.
Kilroy dodged to one side, saving his life for two seconds. In the next he was dying. The method was simple, and appallingly fast. As if by magic his throat opened in a yawning red gash.
Kilroy sagged to the floor and lay there. As bloody froth bubbled from his lips, he tried to speak. Famous last words, Black thought, aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.
But that wasn’t Black’s main concern. What exercised his mind just then was how shockingly vulnerable he was to the Envoy. If the alien
‘N-space detonation. Five gramme yield,’ said a mere monitoring incursions.
‘Why would anybody set off one of those for?’ Kilroy mumbled.
The techie frowned. ‘I’m not sure. It’s possible the radiation and shock waves could destabilise the field harmonics.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning,’ said a second techie, ‘that somebody might’ve just built themselves a door in and out of the field wall.’
‘They could do that?’
‘Theoretically, like drawing a bunch of lines on a page then cutting out a hole in the middle. The lines are gone, they can’t exist in that gap.’
‘Get the fields down now!’ Kilroy said quietly. One minute later, the fields came down. Kilroy and the other meres smashed and shot their way into Fraddo’s inner sanctum, a bedroom with a large and messy bed in the middle and no butler droid.
Of Fraddo there was no sign.
Kilroy’s face remained deathmask-still. Nothing was ever easy.
Aware of Kilroy’s failure, Black proceeded with his experiments. He did not sleep much and preferred to work late at night, sensing that the incessant ‘hum’ of other human beings going about their daily business was missing. The absence of the humming soothed him.
Black had constructed an experimental lab adjacent to the underground complex where Karl, Mika andJeera Mosoon worked, though none knew what he did there. Through one-way windows of padded cells he watched as a man and a woman were gradually transformed into monsters.
Since his first experiments on Reema’s End, and his initial field test on the Engineering Platform orbiting Telegus, Black had refined his DNA resequencing technique; he had also verified, for the nth time, the artificial chromosomes containing the active genes for transformation. The designed virus inserted the new chromosomes reasonably rapidly. But what was still lacking was the elusive element of control. And without that the experiment would be deemed as much a failure as his attempts to export Anneke Longshadow.
Two hours later Black was back where he had started. He paced, frustrated. When he received word that the Envoy had arrived with Kilroy, he sat quietly behind his desk and told the door to open.
Kilroy entered first. The Envoy followed, moving as silently as a shark.
Black raised an eyebrow, his own seething emotions forgotten for the moment. ‘I take it Fat Fraddo, glutton-extraordinaire, is still on the loose? All two hundred-and-forty highly trained and mobile flabby kilos?’
The sarcasm brought Kilroy to a momentary stop.
‘I have people out looking for him.’
‘Is there a leak in your squad?’
Kilroy’s head twitched ever so slightly. ‘No leak. Maybe at your end?’
‘Good point. Someone on the Quesadan council.
I’ll look into that.’
Kilroy glanced at the nearest chamber where the transmogrified female was having a noiseless seizure on the floor. Kilroy wandered over and stared dumbly at the horrific spectacle. Finally he turned and glanced at Black, then the Envoy. A man of few words, his question was easily read.
‘My science experiment,’ Maximus said.
‘She’s dead.’
‘What do you feel, Kilroy?’ Maximus asked.
‘Nothing,’ Kilroy replied. But his eyes betrayed him. Already he had glanced at the Envoy twice. He had come in here unarmed, of course, and sensed his own imminent danger.
‘That’s twice now you have failed me, Kilroy.
Suffice to say I’m very disappointed.’ He gave the Envoy a nod.
Kilroy dodged to one side, saving his life for two seconds. In the next he was dying. The method was simple, and appallingly fast. As if by magic his throat opened in a yawning red gash.
Kilroy sagged to the floor and lay there. As bloody froth bubbled from his lips, he tried to speak. Famous last words, Black thought, aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.
But that wasn’t Black’s main concern. What exercised his mind just then was how shockingly vulnerable he was to the Envoy. If the alien
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