322: Networking

‘One more thing,’ said Vexira. ‘I want to make this clear so there can be no chance of misunderstanding. In spite of your fight with Serrin, and in spite of anything I might have said, he is extremely important to me. One of your purposes is to help me fashion him into a proper tool. At the moment he is… rebellious.’ One of her hands made a faint grasping motion, as though imagining seizing someone by the throat.

Tool number 1 is to help make Tool number 2. Serrin was the only Hornet he wouldn’t have immediately killed if given the slightest opportunity, and these words only strengthened that view. His goal immediately became to keep Serrin rebellious.

‘During what happens next, and forevermore, you must watch over his life should he be anywhere near you. If he should die for any reason while you could feasibly have prevented it, then your life will end shortly after. Do you understand?’

Nicolai rippled affirmation, wondering when, if ever, she’d grow tired of talking.

‘I want him to act as a spy in the Phantom City. That will be one of your purposes, too. It seems you have somehow endeared yourself to him. We can use that. You must convince him to obey me. To accept what I have given and rise to Tier 2. To be my agent against the Highspawn. To go into the City and do as I bid.’ It sounded like she was talking more to herself than to him, until her gaze returned to him and she snapped, ‘Are you listening, human?’

Nicolai did not see any benefit to be gained from being hit again. He bowed. ‘I listen and understand. I will do all I can to make Serrin into the tool you desire.’

‘Good. Here, stop all that bleeding. It is unseemly. And you will need some of these.’ One of her hands darted at empty air, ripples rippled, and the hand disappeared into a line of light. From within she pulled a pair of Rejuvenating Orbs, and a small sack of Oma crystals. She tossed all to him and he snatched them from the air. The crystals were Tier 2. For the Quiet Knife.

He pocketed them all then darted downwards, pulling the Queen’s gaze as his fingers snatched at the very bottom of the sphere. Just in time, as with an abrupt gesture from her the sphere of darkness and force vanished. Once more, he floated high in the air, surrounded by Hornets on all sides.

‘The human serves the hive,’ she announced to them, then waved an arm. ‘We continue as before.’

Nicolai saw Vorath coming quickly towards her, and he felt the Hornet’s anger, but Vexira saw him coming and snorted. She flicked her fingers and the Hornet was shoved away by a burst of harmless force.

‘We fly,’ she announced, and the great droning hum of the hovering Hornets intensified as they sped their wings. Vexira’s Soul Sense flicked at him, rippling with Symbiote activation. Once more yellow force gripped him, and then they all began to fly swiftly through the air. Nicolai towed along by the Queen.

He was pulled along a dozen metres behind her, and she didn’t speak again. He bore this tolerantly, his stance calm and passive.

He was busy looking at what was in his hands, which he cupped protectively, so the wind didn’t whip them away. He wasn’t entirely sure this would work, but he also saw no reason it shouldn’t.

First, he reached with his other hand and clamped finger and thumb around his jaw. The tip of his finger was digging into his lower mouth, his thumb into the soft skin behind his chin bone. His jaw wasn’t just broken but dislocated, and he figured it was best to get it into the right place before healing. The Rejuvenating Orbs had yet to screw up any of his healed bones, but you never knew.

He pulled hard, straight outwards. The pain, surprisingly, was quite manageable as his jaw popped back into position. He turned his attention to his palm and the collection of bloody teeth.

It took him a moment to identify which was which. Ignoring the world around him, he held a molar upside down, the bloody, twisty root pointing up, then opened his mouth and reached within.

With Soul Sense it was easy to position it. He slowly pushed the root back into the hole in which it had occupied. The waves of mind-numbing pain washed over him. Fitting punishment for his various screw ups. Had he screwed up, or had this been inevitable?

He thought on that while shoving the rest of his teeth back in. Nothing was inevitable, therefore he had screwed up. Where had he gone wrong? Going out to investigate, climbing to the top of the hill, seemed the obvious moment. But he wasn’t sure how he could have avoided that mistake. He’d had no way of knowing two dozen invisible Hornets would decide to show up. They’d only been detectable via sonar, and its range was limited outside. By the time they were close enough for him to detect them, it’d been too late.

No, his true mistake had been later. When he’d gotten free, but chosen to stay and fight. If he’d cut his losses and fled, he could’ve vanished into the jungle before the Queen showed up. The possibility of more Hornets arriving was something Threat Analysis had pointed out. His desire to retrieve the Blade had led him to risk it. And now, here he was, a venomous construct dug into his heart and still no Blade.

And yet… though being tied to this Queen was far from ideal, it came with benefits. He had much to learn, much to gain from these Hornets. There was always an ideal, optimal route through any situation. He had failed to find that this day. But now that he was here, he would seek it out. Free himself from the venom, gain all that he could, and retrieve his Blade.

Only one tooth left to insert. This one was broken in half, but he simply put it together like puzzle pieces and dug it into its old spot regardless. The pain forced a groan from him, gargling through the spit and blood filling his mouth.

All teeth back in place, he kept a couple fingers on the shakier ones then tilted his head, let the liquid drool out his mouth and be snatched away by the wind. He tugged the funnel of a Rejuvenating Orb and put it between his carefully pursed lips, breathed in slow and deep, direct into his lungs.

The pain wasn’t as bad as the unbelievable itchiness as his teeth settled into place, nerves reconnected, gums sealed up. The swollen flesh limiting vision around his human eye shrunk, restoring his typical sight. His torn lip sealed up, his jaw firmed.

He stopped breathing in, leaving the orb with perhaps a third remaining, moved his jaw experimentally, tongued at his teeth. All good. Even the cracked one was solid. If only his other problems could be solved so simply.

There was a group of Hornets flying near to him. Threat Analysis told him they’d shifted closer, watching with interest as he re-seated his teeth. One of them—carrying a long, Imbued spear—nudged another, waved at him.

‘You look unhappy, human,’ it called, and their rippling laughter reached him.

Nicolai grinned, huge and wide, baring bloody teeth, then turned away. He used a cloth from a pocket to mop at the blood around his face and visor, getting it off of the HUD, then the visor hissed close. He was glad the Queen hadn’t caught it, too, with her blow, as it would have been harder to fix. It was fortunate her hand was so small.

Now, his attention turned outwards, joining the Modules. They were intently focused as they considered all the many Hornets around him, what they knew of the dynamics between them. He needed to know everything he could.

The average person would’ve greatly struggled to pick out any specific Hornet from the roughly four-hundred which flew around him. A monstrous buzzing cloud of—to human eyes—identical beings, all equipped with the same black chitin armour. Excepting the Queen, in gold.

But the Modules had been marking every Hornet of interest, analysing all ripple communications which came near him to work out who was who. Vexira the Queen. Thryss and Sythera, her Tier 2 daughters. Sythera seemed to be the day-to-day commander of the Hornet forces, and Thryss held a more administrative role. The band of Highspawn, an entity of their own within this greater hive. Xyrrith and the other Tier 2 males, Vexira’s Hands who served as her personal guards as well as taking on, presumably, the role of agents, elite combatants, troop leaders, and anything else requiring a more powerful touch.

Xyrrith, he noted, was looking his way at that moment. The Hornet’s body shifted, leaning in Nicolai’s direction, then he was filtering through the humming cloud.

The Hornet fell into place beside him, flickering wings matching his speed, and stared at him. Thoughtful and curious.

‘I wanted to thank you, human, and introduce myself. My name is Xyrrith, a Hand of the Queen. Your assistance against Vorath was timely.’

Nicolai watched the Hornet without turning his head. Simulations noted the efficiency of the Hornet language, seeming impressed. Even though wind howled around them, the ripples were heard loud and clear. Psychology was thinking about what angle the Hornet was playing, but he had little interest in that. ‘I am Nicolai, and I wasn’t assisting you. I just wanted to kill him.’ If only he’d succeeded.

‘Nevertheless, I thank you. This must be quite a worrying experience for one of your kind, flying here amidst hundreds of us.’

‘Must it?’ he muttered aloud, glaring around at all the bugs, dearly wishing he was equipped with thermonuclear explosives.

Nicolai was not a happy human. Legal and the Assembler, he was thinking. His Blade, he was thinking. Not a good day, he was thinking. I want to kill someone, he was thinking. Like this Hornet, he was thinking. Then the Queen, he was thinking. Then the rest of them… he was… thinking… there was some annoying thing beeping at him.

It was Psychology, reminding him that one of his priorities was learning about these creatures, if he was to have any chance of digging himself out of the hole he was in. The Module added that this Hornet’s manner suggested it wanted something from him, which meant he might be able to get something from it.

He knew the Module was right. The scars on his body, the bloody memories of his past, the corpses left in his wake, all of it was very clear about situations like this—when much had been lost and more was at stake, it was important not to allow emotions to cause mistakes which would only compound problems. It would be understandable for a human to lash out at any and all Hornets, to be petty and sulky. But that would be foolish. He could do better.

‘Are you not concerned?’ Xyrrith wheedled, coming closer, ripples low.

Nicolai forced his mind away from all that had gone wrong, and in the direction of all that could go right. Yes. That would go right.

He glanced around as though worried. Leaned slightly toward Xyrrith. Fought down the urge to pull the Quiet Knife and saw the Hornet’s head off. ‘Should I be concerned?’ he asked.

The Hornet performed his own conspiratorial look-around.

‘You should. The Highspawn hate you, for killing Khoren, and though the Queen has taken you under her wing, and all of her sons and daughters will openly respect her desire, our kind are not friendly towards lesser races. Especially squishies, like yourself. It is very rare for a human to become an ally of Hornets. If I were you, I’d be worried about… accidents.’ The Hornet put heavy emphasis on the last.

But… murmured Psychology.

‘But, fortunately for you, I am less shortsighted than others. I can be the ally you need, human, and trust me when I tell you that you need an ally, amongst my kind.’

‘Today is a fortunate day for me,’ replied Nicolai, unable to keep the sourness from his voice, only to be mentally jabbed by Psychology. I know, I know. Don’t dwell, nothing gained by dwelling. Onwards and upwards, so on and so fucking forth.

The Hornet chuckled. ‘You were quite unlucky, climbing up on that hill for a look at the Greybugs when you did. But do you know, human, we met before that moment?’

The Hornet was unsure. He supposed it thought he’d been unconscious when that other one—Drekhul, from what he’d learned via ripple exchanges between these beings—had been kicking him and yelling about blinking.

The Mask was calmer, the swirling rage of the Dark was fading, and suddenly he felt clear and sharp, full of confidence, a strange flare of enjoyment moving through him, coming from the Thrill of all places.

Wasn’t this just another kind of fight, only one with words? This Hornet had plots and wanted to suck Nicolai into those plots, but if he played this right he could reverse that, suck the Hornet into his own plots. An evil giggle almost escaped from between his lips but he just about managed to hold it in—mind spinning now onto what to do—what to say—who to be—how to act—merging closer with Psychology which emanated its own intense love of these games of words.

Whether to act dumb, or smart? Better to be underestimated or not? They decided on smart. He was in pretty much the weakest position possible right now, and it would likely be quite some time until the moment where being underestimated could be of benefit.

Until that moment, better to act strong. That would make him more desirable as an ally to individuals like Xyrrith—assuming Xyrrith didn’t specifically want a stupid ally, but Psychology didn’t think that was the case—and seeming strong would make him less of a target overall. He didn’t think Xyrrith was lying about the danger of accidents. Overstating it slightly, perhaps, but he could see signs to back up the Hornet’s words already. The majority of the looks and Soul emanations coming his way from the Hornets all around were far from friendly.

‘I do know. You and your brother—Drekhul—were wearing disguises, those human forms. You were the skinny pale one, he the big one. I pointed out a few of your failings.’ He allowed a faint pause to stretch, while Xyrrith regarded him with clear surprise. ‘Another failing becomes clear to me now,’ he added. ‘You communicated with one another using ripples. Now I’ve spent some time amongst you, that seems a clear sign of your true natures.’

‘But of course, you must have known our nature, even then. After all, you would have understood what we were saying,’ spoke the Hornet, his ripples a thoughtful murmur. ‘How foolish we must have seemed to you,’ he shook his head, a strangely human gesture.

The Hornet believed he’d spoken their language since before all this, as opposed to learning it in the last hour. That was understandable, and he opted not to reveal the truth of the matter. It was likely the Hornet wouldn’t even believe him, and if he did, it might make him come across as a little too dangerous and strange. He needed to make himself look strong so as to deter opportunistic attacks and attempts on him, but revealing something like that might lead to the Queen deciding he was a little too dangerous to keep around.

‘Merely inexperienced,’ Nicolai replied, and now, aided by Psychology—the Mask, though it was calmer, refused to help, still bitter about all of this, and probably it wasn’t the best fit for this kind of thing anyway—he worked his faint, subtle Soul emanations to seem more friendly, more amenable. He released a rueful chuckle. ‘Now that I am here, amongst so very many new… friends… I would like to apologise for my rudeness, back then. It strikes me, all of a sudden, that I was the foolish one.’

‘Not at all, human, not at all!’ The Hornet’s emanations were equally amenable. Their version of a friendly smile. ‘You know, in truth I considered humans very stupid, little more than animals. But now I’ve met you, I am forced to rethink. You are far smarter, far more aware than I would have expected. Cleverer than a majority of Hornets, I suspect. And your skills in battle! I’ve never seen someone match Serrin in a fight like that, truly, astonishing. And standing against four of us, as you did!… were you a Hornet, such an act would go down in story.’

‘You are too kind. It is obvious to me you, in turn, are cleverer than the vast majority of humans, and very capable in a fight yourself. Did you know, of the four of you who attacked me up on the hill, you gave me the most trouble?’

‘Really?’ The Hornet’s body shifted slightly, and Nicolai could sense a little actual pride—or a very good falsified version.

‘Indeed. Those crystals…’ He released a rueful emanation. ‘If it weren’t for that, I would have escaped easily. Alas, you were there.’

‘Alas,’ replied the Hornet, pleased.

Their Souls were near touching, each emanating good feeling for one another. Externally, anyway.

Internally he was wondering just how much more two-way jerking-off Xyrrith would want to engage in before they could get down to business, and attempting to work out whether Xyrrith felt any more strongly about the shit they were spouting at one another than he did. Psychology claimed the Hornet was generating 87% pure garbage, but that his pleasure at the compliments wasn’t feigned.

‘Speaking of the City,’ the Hornet began, with a noticeable shift in posture, and Nicolai’s attention sharpened. Here it was. ‘You and—‘

‘Having a nice chat with the pet, brother?’ spoke a new ripple, as with a buzz of wings another Hornet slid into position, on Nicolai’s other side. It was one of the daughters, Sythera. Now that she was right beside him, something became apparent. She was without a doubt the largest Hornet he’d yet met. Almost as big as he was, and further bulked by heavy, custom looking black-chitin armour. She held a long spear—an Artifact—in one hand, pointing toward the ground.

Xyrrith regarded her silently. Nicolai followed his lead.

‘What is the explanation of this outfit you wear, human?’ she continued. ‘Are you trying to mimic us?’ One slender hand lanced out, a taloned finger jabbing his helmet. ‘Do you recognise Hornet-kind’s superiority, is that it?’ Another lightning-fast poke, hard enough to jolt his head. ‘Thus you learned our language, and ape our appearance, and now have such arrogance as to fly amongst us?’ Her ripples were an angry hiss by the end. He saw her body shift, felt the next poke coming.

His bionic lanced up and caught her hand with a sharp smack. In the frozen moment he felt her rage like a bonfire. He felt the strength growing in her arm and released his grip just as she moved to wrench it free. Her arm, wrenched powerfully back but encountering no resistance, almost caught her in the face.

‘You crave the honour of death by my hand,’ she snarled, wings beating as she recovered herself.

Nicolai felt the ripples of Symbiotes, saw her grip tightening on her spear. He readied himself, sensing that she might actually attack.

‘Calm yourself!’ cried Xyrrith, coming around the side of them, hands raised. ‘The Queen wishes him alive. And this human is different, Spear. He is, in fact, quite aware of his place, and of how things work.’

She turned, glowered at Xyrrith. ‘Shut up.’ The other Hornet retreated wordlessly, cowed like a dog, and she turned back to him. ‘Is that so?’ hissed Sythera. ‘Are you aware of your place, human?’

‘I am always open to the teachings of others. Perhaps you would enlighten me?’

‘Your place,’ she snarled, jabbing a taloned finger at his chest, ‘is on the ground, dead, headless, with me standing atop you, eating your brain!’ She buzzed away.

‘I don’t think she likes me,’ he observed, after a moment of silence.

‘The Spear of the Hive,’ spoke Xyrrith softly. ‘Not a good enemy to have. Grabbing her hand like that… may have been rash. Though I suppose it may have been inevitable. She has an especial dislike of lesser races.’

Nicolai had sensed her utter loathing for him the moment she came aside, and his grabbing of the hand hadn’t been rash, but calculated. Some people could not be won over, and his goal was to look strong, not weak.

‘Lucky for me I have at least one friend,’ he replied, shooting a glance at Xyrrith.

‘Precisely.’ The Hornet’s mandibles spread in what he recognised as a smile. The exact kind of smile… even Psychology wasn’t sure. Hornet body language was an ongoing area of investigation. ‘We draw close to our destination. There is much I would like to discuss with you, but we will have to wait until a quieter time, once the Greybugs are subdued.’

Nicolai peered ahead. The hill was rising up, appearing through the endless rain like a ship from a foggy sea. They had arrived.