Dizzie Drexler
The “distraction” ended up taking half an hour and every tool left in their combined arsenals to create. Dizzie had stocked most of their own hardware in the lab – why lump it around from room to room when there were plenty of perfectly good places for it in there? Places which, of course, were now completely infested with mold, thanks to Corinus. They were lucky they’d grabbed their pad on the way out – if Dizzie survived this mess, the data they’d gathered so far would be enough to keep them busy for years.
There was enough to work with, though. Enough in the bag across Grayson’s back and the kit that Six had stored in the library and the bits and pieces that had fallen down along the way that they could make the thing they needed to make, which was… well, to put it in Earth terms, Frankensteinian. Was that a word? Dizzie didn’t really remember the story, but they did remember that the important thing about Frankenstein was that he’d made a monster. And this, Lefty in his latest form, was definitely monstrous.
What the hell wasn’t on Sik-Tar?
“All right,” Grayson said, pulling back and giving the arm a nudge. The new light he’d installed in its ocular array clicked to life. It had been cured of the mold, seared up one side and down the other, completely inoculated by fire. That had taken care of all the organic components to it, but the inorganic parts were a bit tougher. Tough enough, hopefully, to make it to a final self-immolation. Maybe, Dizzie reflected, the third time really would be the charm.
The plan was simple enough. Grayson, who had done some quick and dirty rewiring of his own neural implant to target Lefty and block out the rest of his brother, was going to send the battered arm back into the tunnels and over to the Xenium spill, where it was going to coat itself in the stuff. Then, he was going to make it crawl outside, get a good distance away, and blow itself up. That would hopefully be enough to lure the revenants out to follow it. Once they had, the three of them were going to make for the pod and get themselves the hell out of here. Or, at least, Dizzie and Six were.
This was the worst part of the plan, as far as Dizzie was concerned. “You can come with us,” they insisted. “I’m sure we’re within weight tolerances for it now, and if we’re not we can get rid of some of the fuel.”
“I’m not leaving my brother behind.”
“It’s not leaving him behind when he’s not really there to be left!” Dizzie countered. “He’s infected with the mold, he’s a revenant, a – a Xeno! Xenos are not our friends! I had whole conversations with Corinus, but I never made the mistake of thinking anything he said actually came from him. The mold is… using his mind, using his framework, but it isn’t him. And the thing that used to be Mason isn’t your brother either.”
“And I’m not me without him.” Grayson shook his head. “I’m staying. It’s fine. If I end up needing to be an extra distraction to get the two of you off this rock, that suits me well enough. The only thing the two of you need to worry about is getting to the pod without being seen.”
Six clacked his mandibles. “That’s not the only thing we must worry about.”
They both stared at him. “What do you mean?” Dizzie asked.
“It has been shown now that the mold, when in possession of a body with advanced mental capabilities, can recreate the processes of that body. I’m not just talking about basic telepathy,” he clarified, “I’m talking about being able to relate complex directions such as releasing the force field. Evidence suggests the other revenants are creatures solely interested in destruction – presumably because their bodies have been dead for so long – whereas the version that has evolved within Corinus, and presumably Mason, can communicate much more easily with each other.”
Dizzie felt their headache worsen as the impact of what Six was saying sank in. “So we have to limit their chances to communicate with the other revenants. That’s fine, they’re contained.”
“For now. If they breach that containment before we can make good our escape, they might be able to cause larger problems than we’re anticipating.”
“We don’t know that the mold in here is capable of communicating details like that to the revenants out there,” Dizzie argued. They had to believe this. They had to. If it was, if the creature that Corinus had become had some way of divulging everything it saw and heard in here to the swarm outside…
“Whether it has or it hasn’t, we must be careful.” Six tilted his eyes in the direction of the lab, where the scratch-scratch-scratch of claws against the walls could be heard more clearly by the minute. “Once Corinus and Mason escape, they will certainly come for us. It is best if we’re gone by then. We should take pains to stay out of their sight, so that if they are free when Lefty explodes, they are also drawn to investigate it.”
“Keep our heads down, get Lefty out there to distract everyone, do it fast,” Grayson said. His lips twisted in a parody of a smile. “Anything else, guv?”
“Yes.” Six stared directly at Grayson. “Find a method of destroying yourself and keep it close.”
“Six–”
“Right,” Grayson said before Dizzie could chide the Caridian. “Got that covered. I’ve still got that second vial of Xenium from when we did our first test.” He patted a tiny pocket in the belt at his hip. “Got a mini-blowtorch from my touch-up kit for Mason, too, so it’ll go off when it needs to. I’ll be right. Now.” He pointed to Lefty, then to Six. “You’re the tallest, and Lefty’s only got the two extensors now. You lift him up to the tunnel, and I’ll see what I can do about getting him out into the hangar.”