321: Checkmate

‘—to kill,’ the Queen was saying. Nicolai scrolled back through his skinsuit’s recording to hear the beginning. She’d been saying it didn’t matter to her if he stole the Symbiotes or not, she just wanted him to kill who she wanted him to kill.

‘In any case,’ she continued, ‘a weapon that could destroy the Soul but not the Symbiotes would be far too valuable for me to pass on to you. Not the kind of thing I would give to a probationary assassin.’

‘Probationary?’ he rippled, totally cool and calm, as he slid the sheathed knife into his belt.

‘Hide that better,’ the Queen snapped. ‘Put it under your armour. I do not wish the Highspawn to see it. They will already guess at what I am doing here—that is unavoidable—but if they see that, it could act as confirmation, enough so that they might be able to demand your death.’

She flew closer to him. ‘It is imperative, human, that you do not give them any reason to declare you are an assassin sent against them.’

‘But I obviously am an assassin sent against them.’

‘It is a game we play. So long as they do not have evidence, they cannot demand your death. But if you give them evidence, then they can. Do you understand?’

‘Yes.’ He and the Modules were very familiar with working around various limitations when fulfilling a contract.

He unzipped his skin suit and slid the blade in, nestled along the side of his chest, below his arm. Not an ideal place for retrieval, but he’d work something out later. Perhaps some kind of sheath built into his skin suit. The knife was about the length of his upper leg, so building something there would work.

The Queen moved away from him, watching with satisfaction as he hid the blade.

‘Yes,’ she added after a moment, ‘probationary. If you can perform as directed then I will consider you a true asset. I won’t consider you to have proved yourself until you’ve actually managed to kill one of them.’

He didn’t bother to point out he’d already done so. He knew what she’d say.

‘Until that point,’ she continued. ‘I’ll anticipate at any moment you’ll make a mistake and die.’

He nodded, and turned it into a bow for good measure. He was getting a handle on himself, his mind settling. He’d been in bad situations before, he would be again, and he’d get out of this one in due time. Until then, it was important to act properly. ‘As you say. Be assured I will not disappoint you. Shall we move on?’

The Queen released a buzz of amusement. ‘You didn’t think that would be all, did you, human?’

Her Soul Sense flowed around him and wrapped tight. He couldn’t stop himself tensing up. The Demons on the other side of the Dark were whispering dire warnings.

‘Stay still and do not resist,’ she said, floating closer. The ripples suggested she was moving Symbiotes internally. Her left arm glowed with a faint, evil green light, then a wriggling, pale worm with wire-like feelers appeared on her palm. ‘I am going to put this inside of you, human. It will turn into a poisonous construct that will settle into the centre of you.’ Her black eyes glared into his own, as though she saw through his visor. Her voice rose. ‘Did you think I trusted your word? Do you think I am a fool? Your life will be my guarantee. Open up your armour, or I will tear it off you.’

He believed her. What could he do? That was the question. The Modules considered it carefully and came up with a unanimous answer. Nothing. He’d been wondering what she would do to get proper leverage on him, though he’d hoped she’d be foolish, would believe that just holding the Blade would keep him under control. His visor hissed open.

She extended her palm, and the worm’s wriggling increased in speed. It was hunting around on her palm, raising its front, sniffing at the air. Eager to bore into him.

Her palm came closer and closer, blocking out his vision. He saw the worm, heard its shrilling.

His body felt the expected terror as the horrible thing neared his face. He worked against it, breathing slow and even when his body wanted to suck in terrified gasps, wanted to strike out.

The rage building inside was harder to deal with.

Normally, he’d have the Mask to help him against the Dark. But for the first time he could ever remember, the pair were allied. The Mask hated her to an astonishing degree, more than he’d realised it could. But he had control, now, he was the captain, and he knew the truth because it was self-evident. The only way out was through.

The worm’s feelers extended, seized the skin of his cheek, and it lunged for him. He saw it coming quick and fast toward his human eye.

The Dark and the Mask spasmed together. A sudden shock of fury that lunged through him then burst out, a flash of dark claws, and broke some small piece of the Queen’s spiritual hold on him.

His head jerked and his mouth snapped, a wolf biting. The worm let out a tiny spiritual squeal as it was crushed between his teeth.

‘IDIOT!’ screamed the Queen. Her arm blurred.

He was snapped to the side. It felt like a horse had kicked him in the head. Jaw broken, lips crushed, head lolling dumbly, pain radiating as if there was a microwave aimed at the side of his face.

She seized him by the throat, flat black eyes burning into his own. ‘Those things are extremely valuable,’ she snarled at him. ‘Another debt you owe me, on top of your pathetic life!’ She raised her free hand, and another worm, identical to the first, materialised.

This was the problem with letting anger seize the reins. She called him an idiot and she was right.

What had that gained him?

Nothing.

What had it cost him?

He tongued irritably at his teeth, found a few missing. He’d only had them for a few months. Still, he couldn’t keep himself from glaring at her through his crowded vision, one side of his face swelling up to block his human eye.

The Dark and the Mask only burned out more pointless fury as she seized him by the jaw—a shock of electric pain as broken bones grated—and held him tight, the new worm placed on his face. The Dark tried to fight back, because fighting back was all it knew. But the Mask also emanated a helpless realisation. It understood there was no choice, and it helped him this time. The pain focused his mind, strengthened his will, turned the anger cold. The Dark was gripped tight and held. There was nothing to be gained from resistance except broken bones and missing teeth.

He struggled to see the worm, now, but he certainly felt it as it found his left nostril and dove joyously inside, crawled down his airway. He choked as it crept down inside of him, felt a pain in his chest as it got into his lung. He was able to track it precisely with his Soul.

Next an awful burning that made him hack and cough as it dug through a lung, tore uncaring through blood vessels and found his heart. The trail it left behind him was repaired by some power of the worm.

It settled around his heart and changed. The process reminded him distinctly of how his Seed had once tunnelled into him, then once in place turned into his first Node, grown out his Soul.

The worm transformed into strange filaments that wrapped around and dug into his heart. They found his Major Node and wound around it, and now he felt the presence of it in his Soul. Not in a way that he could spiritually fight against. It was at the centre of him, where his Soul welled out. Might as well try to dig a splinter out of a finger using that same finger.

After a few seconds he knew it was done. Nothing had changed except that a part biological, part spiritual construct was wrapped around one of the most vulnerable points in his entire body, a place where he also stored many Symbiotes.

This is not good, said Threat Analysis. This is a fucking disaster, corrected Nicolai irritably, prompting Psychology to ask if he wished to schedule a therapy session, talk this through.

The Queen released him, floating back, multifaceted eyes glimmering. ‘A rare and potent poison is now within you. Currently it is inactive. In seven days it will wake and kill you. But, prior to that point, it will have no effect—unless you bother it by doing something foolish, like trying to remove it. Thus, your skills, Soul Sense, Symbiotes, and so on, will not be impacted.’

‘One day before it activates it will shift into a state of readiness. The effect of this differs depending on species. For humans, it should cause a faint reddening of your eyes, which will grow worse over time. One of your eyes is strange, but the other seems normal, so should serve as a warning.’

She raised the hand with which she’d struck him, examined his blood where it dripped from her fingers, then spread her palm to show it to him.

‘When your eye is as red as your blood, you will know death is close. You must return to me for the antidote, or you will die. But the antidote I give you will only calm the construct, not remove it. Each time, you will be given another seven days of life, and must come to me for more.’

She clenched her bloody hand into a bloody fist.

‘You are intelligent, so you know what this means—but I will spell it out, just to be sure.’ She said her next words slowly, enunciating them. ‘You are a tool in my hand. You will do as I say, or you will die.’

She floated closer, multifaceted eyes boring into his own. ‘I. Own. You,’ she whispered as she drifted past him. She circled him as though examining a piece of furniture she’d purchased, extending one clawed hand to trail over his chest, his shoulder, his back.

When she reappeared on his other side, her mandibles were spread in what he was beginning to recognise as a smile. ‘Isn’t this nice?’ she said, wings blurring silently as she drifted away, turned to face him and spread her arms wide. ‘Now our relationship is as clear as crystal, where before it was so very muddy.’

The Dark boiled with vicious impulses, the Mask dreamt of vengeance. He reached reflexively for the Angelic energies of the Blade then his whole mind wrenched with disorientation because there was nothing there. Like he’d reached for a crutch to lean on but it had been torn away. Had the Blade made him weak? Soft? There was no substitute for discipline and self-control. His hunger for mastery swelled within him. He would maintain dominion over his mind, if nothing else. The pain faded as he fought the pair, working to control himself.

‘I am not entirely sure you yet understand,’ murmured the Queen. ‘I sense…’ She snapped closer to him, mandibles clacking at the air inches from his nose. ‘Resistance. Repeat after me: I am a tool in your hand.’

Both the Mask and the Dark, it transpired, had pride, and they clawed at the words, tried not to let him speak them. But Nicolai had no pride, and nor did the Modules. This was actually a situation they were quite used to. But unlike GRECKON’s leash, which had been solid as bedrock, the Queen’s was far more slippable.

And slip it we will, he whispered to them all, and all the disparate parts of himself felt the utter confidence of his words, and at last the Dark stopped fighting him, merged closer, and the Mask restrained itself.

‘I am a tool,’ he rippled, monitoring his ripples for slippage, glad this method of communication spared him from moving his broken jaw, ‘in your hand.’

‘Very good,’ she said.

Oh I’ll be your tool, but perhaps not the most reliable of tools. I’ll become slippery, tough to grip, and then at the worst moment I’ll turn in your hand and buzz to life all on my own, rip and tear into you…! A murderous chuckle burst out of him, cutting off when his broken jaw grated and pain spiked all down the left side of his face.

‘What was that?’ Vexira stared at him, suspicious.

What was wrong with him? It’s important not to laugh out loud at internal thoughts! he seethed furiously, internal eye glaring suspiciously at the Dark. This was the problem, really, with losing the Blade. He’d been so astonishingly cool and calm these last weeks, ever since he’d gotten his hands on it. And now, now… well.

‘My apologies,’ he rippled. ‘Sometimes I do that. When I am… nervous.’ He did his best to speak as though embarrassed, pulled hopefully on the Mask to see if it had such emotions to offer, but it was still emanating nothing but rage.

‘Not an ideal trait in an assassin.’

‘It happens only very rarely, when I am up against someone who I know I am incapable of defeating.’

Her suspicion calmed. ‘Then you are more sensible than I had thought. Good. I am glad we have an understanding.’ Her manner softened. ‘And now that we do… I believe in a concept we call the Sting and the Honey. It means that one should not only use force, but also offer rewards. So, let us put this necessary unpleasantness behind us, and look forward to a future in which we can work calmly and happily together.’

His mind filled with a vision involving a 1.5-kilowatt, high-torque electric drill, a bag of long steel screws, and her head.

‘Calmly and happily,’ he echoed, swallowing another salty mouthful of the blood swelling from the holes where teeth had been.

‘Do as I command and you will find I am not ungenerous. For starters…’ She glanced him up and down. ‘The fact that you are Tier 1 is less than ideal. If you can prove yourself by killing one of these Highspawn, then I will provide you some resources to help attain Tier 2. I will also provide you some Symbiotes. Working for me is not without its rewards.’

She perhaps thought he’d become complacent, if she offered him these things. That he might come to feel that he wasn’t a slave but an employee, valued and rewarded. There was no chance of that, but he would happily take anything she gave.

It would all help him become strong enough to retrieve his Blade and kill her.

He allowed his face to flicker with thought. He nodded as though grateful, let some false emotion leak from him. Still anger, but tempered with a little eagerness and greed. It was important to give the impression that these strategies could work on him. Important she not realise that nothing would ever change his path.

Nicolai bowed with excessive lowness. ‘I am… excessively motivated.’

She gave him a level stare. ‘Watch yourself, human.’