“How does simple communication explain my boner?”
“Think of the psilight as the Supremate’s influence. It’s actually a conduction flux, like static electricity.”
“And I guess you have some ridiculous thirty letter name for it.”
“Exordipathicsignaltrancination. The Supremate feels us with it.” He held up the sensor ring which girded his fat pinky. “It connects us to him telepathically. It’s like the labyrinth’s blood, consolidating all components, be they living, dead, or inanimate. It also transfers power from the stasisfield to the labyrinth’s processing systems. In fact, it was focused wavelengths of the psilight which originally allowed the Supremate to communicate with Winnie and me before the labyrinth arrived.”
So the psilight was like a power line. What would happen to it during the labyrinth’s recharge period?
“Psilight?” Wade said. “Stasisfield. What does this have to do with the agro site?”
“On landing,” Besser explained, “which we call termination of annexation transfer, the labyrinth must retard its reentry by means of electromagnetic counterpulses. Regrettably this activity generates a momentary wavelength aberration which causes irreversible physiological damage in any life form within a limited perimeter. The agro animals were too close to the pulse upon termination. This proximity resulted in instant degeneration of the complex organ systems. They died at once, as did any wildlife within the perimeter. It also caused our first transfection failure. Apparently Penelope was near the site during the labyrinth’s descent. The counterpulse damaged her reproductive faculties. Tom buried her just past the clearing.”
“I’ve seen the cozy little graveyard,” Wade confirmed.
“Then we decided on a more scientific approach. From the campus medical records, we identified the healthiest candidates available for transfection. Can you imagine the catastrophe of inducting a surrogate or holotype that wound up with some inherent biological defect or genetic disorder?”
“No,” Wade said. “I can’t imagine it.” But there was one more explanation he wanted. “The grove. What did you do to the grove?”
“The green fog isn’t really fog,” Besser told him. “It’s a waste by product of the psilight generators. We simply vent the conduction and element cores on occasion. The gasses happen to possess some amusing metamorphic effects on any plant and wildlife that’s exposed to it for a sustained period.”
Yeah, amusing, Wade thought. He remembered the faced mushrooms, the flesh covered trees, and the hideous gilled fog snakes.
Now they stood in a short black warren before a pair of blank door sized rectangles. A small plate hovered between them. Besser touched a button of some sort, and the left rectangle filled with dark kaleidoscopic light. This shifting effect, Wade realized, was something vast beyond the rectangle, something scrolling at incredible speed.
“This is the hold egress,” Besser said, “the access to the main holotype hold. As you can see, we’ve an abundant supply.”
“Access?” Access to what? Wade wondered.
“Meet your new brothers,” Besser bid.
The rectangle pulsed blurred images, like flitting a deck of cards. Wade saw things—living things—in the port, the physical likes of which beggared sane description. Besser slowed the scrollmode’s speed to afford Wade a more detailed inspection. One per second, the cramped, glowing holds switched by. Intent, otherworldly figures crouched close to the repulsion screens. All were different yet exclusively abominable, and most seemed to possess overly prominent genitals.
“Monsters,” Wade uttered, staring.
“Not monsters, Wade. Men. Just like you.”
“Pardon my prejudice, but I don’t have three balls and a forked dick, and I have two eyes in my head, not two dozen. Those things are not just like me.”
“They’re men,” Besser repeated. “They’re just different because they come from different places. I assure you, Wade, you’re as grotesque to them as they are to you.”
Besser halted the scroll to an empty hold. Its stockcode read, in almost epitaphic letters: #1003WADEST.JOHN.
“Beginning to get the picture yet?” Besser asked.
Wade was incapable of response.
“And now that you’ve met the men, it’s time to meet the women.” Besser activated the adjoining port. He flashed the female holds by much more slowly.
Wade looked but wished he hadn’t. The flashing grotesquorium locked his gaze. These were the female counterparts of what he’d just seen, only most had been decalcified. They sat slack in corners like limp sacks, eyes peering out from settled, skull less heads. Gorged breasts hung from collapsed shoulders, and boneless legs lay splayed (many had more than two), joined hiplessly by flaccid pink grooves that could only be vaginas.
Then the scroll stopped. Besser said, “Ah, here she is. Your first date, Wade. Take a good look.”
The hold’s occupant resembled a conical mound of gray, spotted blubber. It seemed collapsing in on itself around a pudgy yellow tongue that emerged to lick a wanton smile. Not one but several vaginas enclustered at its groin. It winked, and raised a sagging loop of an arm and waved.
“Really, Wade,” Besser resumed, “a ladies’ man such as yourself should be delighted by this unique opportunity.” Besser’s sarcastic chuckle sounded like footsteps in muck. “Now, Wade, you’re the ultimate ladies’ man.”
“You’re going to make me have sex with alien piles of blubber!” Wade gasped, spitting bile. “Bimbos from space!”
“Exactly. Didn’t we tell you what an honor this would be? Your sons and daughters will repopulate worlds.”
Besser shoved Wade into the empty hold, then keyed closed the repulsion screen. He tittered, grinning in. “I’ll be back shortly, Wade, with some sisters. We’ll be taking you for your final acclimation regimen. And after that…it’s passion for eternity.”
“You evil fat piece of shit!” Wade yelled into the screen.
“And I’d learn to be more respectful of your superiors. Please don’t call me fat. Remember, I’m your new lord now, forever. If you’re not nice to me, I might decide to have you reassigned to one of the communal holds. The holotypes there aren’t particularly given to gender when it comes to pastime activities, if you get my meaning.”
“Aw, Jesus,” Wade groaned low in his gut.
“So behave yourself. And until we meet again…welcome.”
—YES, WADE, another voice announced. —WELCOME TO MY FAMILY.
—
CHAPTER 34
Symbols, he thought.
Jervis reminded himself to be creative. More and more, he viewed his new life as a progression of symbols. He was not so much doing things as he was wielding the hand of destiny. Everything meant something else, something deeper. But what else could the warm, black cube symbolize but death?
Besser had called it an s classtacticlepyrotechnicserviceordnance—its yield was equivalent to about five hundred kilotons. Jervis understood the importance of the Supremate leaving it behind, but…
Was he actually having doubts, after all he had done, after all the people he’d murdered?
No, it wasn’t doubt. It was despair.
Paragons don’t despair, he thought.
It was Sarah.
Jervis forced the thought shut. It was one or the other. It was destiny or sucking up to the bitch who’d dumped him. Could love be so focused as to divert him from immortality?
“No!” he shouted aloud. “No!”