Mirror Space - Marianne de Pierres [20]
‘What you describe is not unlike humanesque communities. Talent and hard work are often not rewarded. In fact, quite the opposite.’
The creature made a sound that could have been a sigh. ‘Mira-fedor speaks with veracity. It is difficult to recognise the superior evolution of Post-Species sometimes. Wanton-poda finds this depressing.’
The thought of a parasitical Post-Species sentient being depressed fascinated Mira. Post-Species - well, at least the Host variety - clearly retained the ghosts of emotional variations. Mira chose not to take offence that Wanton-poda considered itself a more advanced sentient than her. For the most part it was true.
‘Progression is not always linear,’ she proffered.
The creature lifted off her shoulder and floated in the direction of its tank. ‘Wanton-poda would have had pleasure knowing how its water species has fared.’
Mira felt the stirring again. Stronger, this time, like a memory bobbing its way to the surface of her mind. ‘Is it possible . . . that Wanton-poda’s adaption....was tardigrades?’
Wanton-poda halted its forward motion and reversed, its ear flaps coming erect. ‘Mira-fedor is very astute. Wanton-poda is surprised.’
Mira swallowed to ease her suddenly dry mouth. Her heart beat painfully in her chest. ‘Mira-fedor has a story Wanton-poda should hear.’
The cephalopod swayed gently before her while she told it of the Saqr and their invasion of Araldis. It didn’t interrupt or alter its listening pattern until she finished the telling and asked for some water.
Then it floated to its mobile canteen and returned with a fresh water tube. ‘Wanton-poda has some thinking to do.’ It left her and returned to its tank.
Mira drank and ate and went through the simple routine of calisthenics she’d adopted to combat the inactivity caused by her confinement. After that, she attempted the meditation exercise Thales Berniere had explained to her. At first her mind wandered, but she persisted until she gained some respite from the turmoil of questions and worries that plagued her waking moments.
Afterwards she ate again and slept, to be woken by another visit from the Siphonophores. This time they congregated around her bed, saying nothing, doing nothing that she could perceive.
Then as quickly as they appeared, they left.
Wanton-poda floated down from a high corner of her cell, descending until its fringe brushed her chest. It had never been this close to her face before.
She sensed its distress. ‘What is it?’
‘Mira-fedor’s baby is to be removed. Wanton-poda has been directed to do it.’
Mira sat up so quickly that Wanton-poda was forced to slide down onto her lap. ‘Why would they order that?’
‘There is evidence that this is the optimum time to study the development of the Innate gene; optimum time to modify it.’
‘Of course,’ said Mira hollowly. ‘Of course that’s what they want.’ She felt a deep welling of bitterness. ‘It’s what everyone wants.’ She stared down at the cephalopod. ‘Why are you telling me?’
‘Wanton-poda suggests Mira-fedor accompany it to a safer place.’
Mira’s eyes widened. ‘You’re saying we should escape?’
‘Mira-fedor should eat and drink in readiness for a journey. Timing is crucial.’
Hope glimmered alive inside her. Insignia.
Her thought was rewarded with the faintest of tugs, yet something more palpable than before. She sprang from her bed and ate food cubes from the tray.
Wanton-poda hovered around her, waiting. ‘In a moment, when Wanton-poda disintegrates the containment wall you must not speak again, even if directly addressed. You may not say a word until Wanton-poda uses the words “Mira-fedor, you are safe.’”
Mira nodded. ‘Is there anything else I should know? How should I behave?’
‘It will be assumed you are a Host body that has not yet fully integrated with its Post-Species and cannot talk.’
Mira stared at Wanton-poda in shock. ‘You mean hosts are sometimes humanesques?’
‘Accurate,’ said Wanton-poda. It spun away from her, passing through the transparent field