Possession - J.M. Dillard [48]
Finally, the human exhausted himself and sagged in Skel’s restraining embrace. The Vulcan waited several minutes before reacting, fearing Tarmud was only feigning collapse. However, he now noticed the scientist’s sweating had stopped, as had his trembling. He was breathing rhythmically, evenly.
“I’m all right now,” Tarmud said weakly. “Tired. But all right. It’s over.”
Carefully, Skel eased the man back onto the couch and brought him more water, contemplating whether Tarmud would be physically too weak to contain the entities. As the researcher drank down the second glass, he seemed more and more composed.
“Are you well?” Skel finally asked, his Vulcan self only semiascendant. In this mode, he could use all of his Vulcan training and knowledge; in this mode, he was infectious. When the entities resubsided back to his amygdala, he would remember only what he needed to continue his normal life.
Admirably adaptive, the entities; over the past eighty years, they had utilized Skel to help them evolve to a form particularly suited to Vulcan physiology. Permitting their host some control allowed them to survive much longer—and to spread the disease more efficiently.
And the TechnoFair was the perfect opportunity to spread them throughout the entire galaxy.
But Skel was beginning to doubt whether his human associate would be able to control himself long enough to reach the fair without generating suspicion.
At last, Tarmud nodded, wiping a dark golden lock of damp hair from his forehead. “Sorry about the outburst.”
“Do not apologize,” Skel insisted. “We cannot know the full range of reactions as different species are incorporated into the whole. There may be others who react as you did. We need to be prepared.” As it had happened for Barbara Evans, Skel knew, the entities were now surging through Tarmud’s brain, triggering the strongest emotions—hate, rage, violent passion—and feeding on the adrenaline and other hormones produced. Once satiated, the entities would subside again and permit Tarmud to behave normally so that he would go undetected.
“How long did it take you to help them mutate into this superior form?” Tarmud asked.
“Years,” Skel replied. “Some of it they did themselves, inside me, while I grew from a child to an adult. They had the time they needed to adapt themselves to my physical form, to learn from me. Fortunately, I was the only Vulcan infected who was not purged when the other entities were destroyed. Apparently, a mutated cluster survived within me, going deep into my biochemistry. Then when I achieved my position, we had many years to use the resources of the Vulcan Science Academy to enable the entities to develop into this superior form. The adaptation causes the host some confusion, but, in general, it has been very helpful. Though feeding is minimized—except for the nightmares.” The terrifying dreams produced enough hormonal reactions to maintain the life of the entities, but their hunger was ever-present. “With the equipment on the Enterprise, we can finish the adaptation process, so that any sentient organism can house the entities without fear of breakdown or death.”
“Yes,” Tarmud said, blinking sleepily.
“You must rest now,” Skel instructed. “While you sleep, you will dream and the entities can feed and grow stronger. Then we will discuss our method of recruitment.”
“Someone must recruit Kyla. She’s strong … has so much knowledge …” Tarmud’s eyes were closing, and Skel carefully helped him to recline on the couch. Tarmud’s initial outburst still concerned him, but the violent nightmares his colleague would experience during his sleep