Nascent Decay (The Goddess of Decay Book 1) (13 page)

Siirocian nobility had very little to do with their children until after they had learned to speak. She herself had spent two millicycles there with her siblings until she was old enough to be allowed to participate in aristocratic society. Some of her brothers and sisters had never even made it out of the nest, so to speak. Accidents had a way of happening. The rest she’d taken care of on her ascension to the throne.

Still, it was one of the few places that still brought her peace of mind. She’d had a good childhood, spending long hours basking alone in the sun once she’d been allowed to venture to the surface. Siirocian preferred being alone; they were not an overly sociable culture for the most part, although aberrations did exist. There was nothing more embarrassing than an emotionally needy Siirocian, in her mind.

She settled herself down on a feeding lounge as the child continued to suckle from her. It felt surprisingly good when he was gentle, but when he was irritable or bad tempered it could be very painful. The genetic alteration itself to provide for him in such a way had been drastic, but painless.

She was still unsure of how she felt about having breasts, they got in the way a lot and bounced about in a very undignified manner, but Siirocian aristocracy had done much stranger things before. Nobody even seemed to notice really, other than the few compliments she’d gotten from her attendants, but they were paid to say such things. At least half of them were probably spies anyway, always trying to massage her ego for favor. That was why she did not trust any of them to have the procedure done so they could nurse the child instead of her. Besides, it might cause confusion in the mind of the boy. Siirocian children began feeding on living creatures soon after they hatched, and never truly developed a strong emotional bond with their parents because of this. It had made it that much easier to conspire with her husband to eliminate her parents and siblings that had a claim to the throne, and then done away with him after he’d served his purpose.

But this was an entirely new experience for her, although not unheard of amongst the Siirocian ruling class. Transgender modification was actually the most common genetic alteration procedure for her peers and social circle.
The strange things we do out of boredom,
she thought idly. She wondered how long it would be before he could talk; she looked forward to the day when she could communicate with him. Then, perhaps she could train him and civilize him and parade him about like a little trophy, the last and only human in the galaxy.

And if not, she would enjoy making him suffer just as she’d done with his mother.

Rhylie could vaguely hear voices, distantly, but she didn’t recognize the language being spoken. Her vision was blurred and her head ached, throbs of pain mitigated by lulls of semi-consciousness.

The voices began to grow louder as the conversation quickly became heated, but everything was muffled and distorted, as though she were listening to it through a series of tubes. Rhylie struggled to ask for water and they ceased speaking immediately. All that came out her mouth were unformed grunts and groans.

“You’re awake,” one of the voices said, through the crumbling fog that swaddled her. She recognized it. It was her rescuer. The assassin that had attempted to kill her in the Chamber.

“I yah thirsssss,” was all she managed to hiss out. Why did her tongue feel so thick and wooden? It clove to the roof of her mouth, and hurt when she peeled it away. It felt like her gums were being pricked with tiny needles.

“Just relax,” said another voice. It sounded feminine, matronly. “The worst is over.”

“That’s what you think. She is not going to be happy,” said a third voice. It was whiny and shrill. Panicked.

“Shut up, Drasce,” said her rescuer. “This is a very delicate situation.” He sounded frustrated, aggravated.

“You saw for yourself what she’s capable of,” Drasce said, sounding fearful. “She’s a murderer! You saw how she killed all of those-”

“Those are nothing but Vorcia’s lies,” said her rescuer, cutting him off. He sounded uncertain himself.

“If you say so, Isaar,” said Drasce. “I saw the feeds!”

“All of us saw those feeds. What you did not see was her in the Chamber, begging for death. Vorcia has been using her,” Isaar replied angrily.

“Then why not just kill her if that’s what she wants?” Drasce asked.

“Because that is not who I am,” said Isaar. “I will not kill the innocent needlessly.”

Rhylie was having trouble following the conversation through the fog. Her vision wavered, flashes of the scene playing out before her, flickering through the muted gray. Shadows began to form and shift where the voices were coming from, dark blobs undulating and fading as she blinked her eyes. Her eyelids seemed to be sticking together.

“Water, please, water,” she murmured. She tried to raise a hand to wipe the sweat from her face, but something wasn’t right. The weight of it was different. It felt cold and metallic on her face.

“She’s going to scratch herself, Isaar,” a third voice said. “I told you we should have restrained her.” It came from the dark blur on her left. He sounded like the stooped, eyeless alien with bat-like ears that had scanned her in the cockpit. Or was that a dream she had? She couldn’t remember. Her fucking head was hurting so badly.

“She has been restrained enough, Reskle,” said Isaar. He was the blur on her right. “She was so Chamber sick that she could not walk.” She felt something pulling her hand away from her face. She was too weak to resist.

“The neural interface hasn’t finished its scan yet. She’s still weak and feverish,” Reskle said. He leaned over her, but his features were formless. “She’s 35% blind at the moment, but everything should be online soon.” He sounded worried.

“She’s going to be even more dangerous. She’s going to kill us,” Drasce said in the background, his voice rising hysterically.

“We had to do it to save her life, and ours,” said Isaar. “It was the only solution.”

“What life? We can never go home now,” Drasce wailed.

“I told you not to come along, Drasce, but you insisted. You wanted to prove yourself, and you got to,” Isaar said. “You knew the risks. Now accept them.” He sounded defensive. “Besides, you can go home any time you want. She didn’t see your face. Only Reskle and I have been exposed.” What were they talking about? Were they talking about her? Everything seemed to be happening so far away from her.

“Things are moving faster than we anticipated,” Reskle said nervously. “We were not fully prepared to perform this procedure.”

“We had no other choice,” said Isaar impatiently, as though he were through discussing it. “Can we dial back the signal intensity any? Is there anyway to slow the process down?”

“I’ve never done this with a human,” Reskle said. “They’re different, and she’s recovering faster than I anticipated. I don’t have the proper equipment to slow down or speed up the process, just what I needed for the procedure itself. Now that it’s begun, the only way to stop it would be to terminate her.”

Isaar leaned in, hovering over her. He was just another dark shape.

“What is your name?” he asked, his voice tense.

“G-Gota,” she said, fumbling with the word. Was that really her name? She couldn’t remember, and even that name was fuzzy. It had been so long since anyone had called her anything else. Maybe in another life, she’d had another name. But not anymore.

“No,” Isaar said. “Your
real
name.” Rhylie twisted her face into a sick grimace that mocked a smile. All of it suddenly made sense to her.

“No, no, no, no-no-no it’s a trick. It’s just another trick…but I’m smarter than you!” she half-cackled madly. “Chamber, respond!” She reached towards the figure. It barely evaded her grasp.

“She’s crazy!” Drasce shrieked. “She’s going to kill us all!” There was a commotion, somewhere beyond the fog. She laid her hand back down at her side and closed her eyes for a moment. She wished her head would stop hurting.

“You are
not in the Chamber
anymore,” Isaar stressed, his voice rising with frustration. He moved back over her and grabbed her by her wrists. It was odd. She could tell she was being restrained, but she couldn’t feel his touch.

She opened her eyes to confirm it, and saw a long shadow extending down. Where her arm should be, something shimmered through the fog, but she couldn’t make out any details. “Please,” he implored. “You have to listen to me.” His voice carried a heightened sense of urgency.

“We have to terminate her!” Drasce shrieked behind him. The commotion grew louder.

“What are you doing, Drasce? PUT THAT DOWN! Noura, Mersi, get him out of here!” Isaar yelled. “He is going to be the one that gets us all killed.” Rhylie could hear the sounds of a struggle somewhere beyond her clouded vision. Isaar’s dark shadow disappeared from above her.

“She’ll be online and full strength soon, Isaar,” Reskle said uneasily. “She’s 55% online already.” Isaar’s shadow reappeared, leaning closely. She could feel his gentle touch on her forehead, his fingers soft and soothing.

“Please tell me your real name,” he begged her. Rhylie’s vision began to swim into view. Colors bloomed in the vague gray mist that separated her from reality. Her headache was beginning to subside.

“Gota,” she said, laying back and relaxing her arms. It was the only thing that made sense. It was safe.

“No,” said Isaar. “Your
real
name. Not the one the Masters gave you.” Wasn’t Gota her real name? What was he talking about? The Chamber was her mother, and Gota had been her name since birth it seemed.

“I have always been Gota,” she whimpered. “Chamber, respond, please. Please respond.” What was wrong with the Chamber? She needed its help right now. Isaar sighed.

“I told you that you are not in the Chamber anymore. Your name is not Gota,” he implored. “
This is not fabricated
,” he stressed.

“She’s insane,” Reskle said. “She’s been in the Chamber for too long. This is beginning to go from bad to worse, Isaar. We may need to begin considering drastic measures.”

“No. We can get her through this. We have to get her through this. We have no alternative at this point,” Isaar said. “What is your name? Your real name?” he asked again, pressing her. She struggled to recall.
What was her real name
?
How long had it been since she had heard it spoken aloud by another being
?

She remembered being called another name, a long, long time ago, when she had been someone else, something else. Sometimes she would have dreams about those times, before she became Gota. She closed her eyes and focused on her real mother’s face, trying to remember what she had been called when she was still just an innocent child. The forbidden name. She opened her eyes.

“Rhylie,” she mumbled, as the fog broke and colors began to form into shapes. She could almost make out the face above her. “Rhylie Ella Underhill.” Her lips were dry and her throat ached. The throbs of pain in her head began to soften in frequency and intensity. She heard Isaar sigh heavily with relief.

“You have been through something very traumatic, Rhylie,” he said, placing one of his hands on her head. His touch was cool, and soothing. “Something that had to be done. I take full responsibility for the decision. The rest were just following my orders.” His voice had a serious tone, like her Sergeant’s, but it was soft and apologetic at the same time.

“Wh-what are you talking about?” she asked, stumbling over the question. Her mouth was so dry. All she wanted was some water.

“If you need someone to blame, that someone is me,” Isaar said plainly. “I rescued you and brought you here. I made the decision to perform the procedure.”

“What procedure?” she asked, trying to lift her head up. It felt like a ton of rocks. The conversation was bringing her headache back in full force.

“You had…a neurobionic implant…along your spine. The neurotransmitter was placed at the base of your skull,” Reskle interjected into the conversation. “The tendrils had extended themselves the length of your spinal cord as we had suspected, and compromised your nervous system.” Rhylie didn’t like where this was going.

“With it, Vorcia had access to all of your physical senses, your thoughts, emotions…location,” Isaar said. “There was only one way to remove that type of implant without the master tech.”

“What did you do to me?” Rhylie asked, panicking. Fresh pain crept through her skull, finishing with a crescendo that pounded mercilessly behind her eyes. She shut them again, blocking out the blinding light that came with her revitalized vision.

“The only thing we could do, Rhylie, other than kill you and eject you into space,” Isaar said, sounding remorseful. “We removed your body and replaced it with a cyberbionic skeletal graft.” She clenched her fists and began to tremble with anger and frustration. She could hear something rattling softly, and it took her a moment to realize it was the sound of her shaking on whatever she was lying on.
What kind of monster had they turned her into
?

“Her biostreams are erratic. I’ve never encountered readings like this,” Reskle said. “She’s syncing almost as fast as Konii did but she’s extremely unstable right now. We have to calm her down.” Isaar looked at Reskle for a moment and turned his head back to Rhylie.

“Rhylie, you have to listen to me. Please do not kill my crew,” Isaar implored. “Just me, if you must. This is all my fault.” Rhylie began laughing.

“I told you she’s mad,” Reskle said. “She’s too dangerous. She’ll be able to tear the ship apart and there’s nothing we can do to stop her.” This made Rhylie laugh even harder.

“Please, Rhylie-” Isaar began.

“I know I’m still in the Chamber, you stupid assholes,” she cackled mirthlessly. “It’ll never let me leave, never ever.” Suddenly her vision sharpened and everything around her came into full view. She could see Isaar’s face and his solid red eyes with their golden ringed irises. Beside him was another, shorter alien wearing a white apron that was smeared with blood. It was the one that had scanned her in the cockpit before she’d blacked out. She decided that he must be the one called Reskle.