"All of you, step back," I told the others with great anger. "Go far away, out of the room… because if I have been deceitfully led here by villainous poop-heads, I intend to find out once and for all. I am going to walk straight up to that fountain, and then I shall do something drastic. If I see a large button labeled DO NOT PRESS, I shall press it. If I see a big X scratched into the floor, I shall step on it with all my weight. If the trees come alive and attempt to stuff poisonous mini-chilis down my throat, I shall beat them to death with their own branches. The one thing I shall not do is dally in forlorn uncertainty, wondering if I am another creature’s dupe. If something is going to happen, I shall make it happen now."
The others all turned to Festina to see her response to my words. "Well," she said slowly, "there is some benefit in knowing where we stand… and maybe provoking a confrontation is better than wandering forever with no idea where the Shaddill are hiding."
"Sounds good," Uclod agreed. "No offense, missy," he said to me, "but if the bad guys have some hold over you, it’s better you do walk into a trap. I mean, the trap couldn’t be lethal, right? The League won’t let the Shaddill kill any of us. And if they’re playing games inside your head, they’ll bloody soon use you against us unless you’re taken out of the equation."
"That is the sort of logic one expects from a heartless criminal," I told him, "but it is logic all the same. Now depart to a safe distance… and we shall see if I can cause dramatic events."
Festina scowled a moment; then, slowly, she nodded. "All right. I don’t like it, but the Shaddill really can’t kill you, not out here in space. And maybe if you cause enough ruckus, one of the bastards will show up personally. That’s what we really want: someone we can talk to. The only way we’ll get out of this mess is peaceful negotiation… preferably while we hold a pistol to somebody’s head."
She turned and left the room. The others followed — with Lajoolie giving me a plaintive look before she disappeared. "I will be all right," I called to her. "I am practically unbreakable. And quick. And clever. And…"
But by then I was alone; and suddenly I felt less confident about my plan. It is one thing to speak bravely in front of others. It is quite a different thing to stand in solitude, staring at a room filled with dirt and wondering if this is the last sight you will ever see.
Tentatively, I took a step forward. No awful disaster happened.
Taking a deep breath, I counted to five. Then I strode briskly forward, straight toward the fountain.
A Fruit In The Fountain
The moment I passed between two of the mini-chili trees, something gurgled beneath the floor. I leapt back quickly, but nothing attacked. Feeling my heart pound, I waited; and I kept my eyes moving, frequently looking back over my shoulder to make sure nothing was creeping up on me from behind.
There was no motion anywhere in the room… until another rattling gurgle came from the fountain and a stream of reddish fluid gushed out the top. It squirted a short distance up into the air, then fell back down, splashing crimson spatters into the basin. A moment later, the three lower spouts also began pouring liquid — the same reddish stuff that was shooting from the top.
It was not blood… at least not the sort of blood I had seen ooze from human injuries. The fountain’s fluid was more viscous, like the thick liquid resin that maintenance machines on Melaquin employed to fill up ax gouges in the wall. Of course, the resin on Melaquin was pleasantly clear; the liquid in the fountain was transparent, but tinted the crimson of fall leaves. It also had a sweetish smell to it, not at all unpleasant: the scent reminded me of fresh-cut fruit, but which type of fruit, I could not say.
"What’s going on?" Festina called from outside the room.
"The fountain has started on its own. I did nothing to provoke it. The fluid it emits is red."
A pool of the liquid began to accumulate in the basin. I approached, still watching for signs of trouble. Nothing moved anywhere in the room except for the fountain’s central squirt and the streams pouring through the three lower spouts. All the flows were lazy, without much pressure; there was no chance of me being hit by the tiniest splash. I considered that a good thing — the fountain’s dribbly babble was pleasant to listen to, but I was not yet ready to allow the red fluid to touch my skin. For all I knew, it might be a powerful Chemical that would burn my flesh or render me unconscious at the slightest contact.
Instead, I moved to the nearest mini-chili tree and plucked a low-lying fruit from its branches. Taking great care not to squeeze the little chili, I went back to the fountain and tossed the small fruit into the basin, very near the pool that was filling out from the center. The fruit landed neatly with its pointy end aiming inward toward the middle of the bowl. Bit by bit as liquid continued to flow, the level of the fluid rose and its edge inched up the stone toward the chili’s tip.
"What’s happening in there?" Festina called.
"I am performing an experiment. I am exposing an organic object to the influence of a sinister alien liquid."
"The organic object wouldn’t be your hand, would it, missy?"
That, of course, was Uclod. "No," I told him, "I am not such a fool as to use myself for an experimental subject."
"Oh yeah? Then why are you in there, when we’re all out here?"
One had to admit he had a point. But one did not have to admit it out loud, and anyway, the edge of the liquid was almost touching the chili’s bottom tip. I held my breath in anticipation, hoping perhaps the small yellow fruit would burst into flame when the liquid made contact; but the result was more interesting than there fire. As the fluid nudged the chili’s surface, the fruit’s yellow skin slowly changed color — not to red, as you might think, but to a dark purple. Even more intriguing, the chili’s waxy texture grew puffy, bulging and bloating with purplish glee… until the sharp tip of the chili had turned to an ill-defined blob of purple jelly.
I stepped back several paces from the fountain. Several long paces. Taking care not to let my voice quaver, I called to the others, "Um. You will be pleased to learn my experiment has had a Result. Perhaps it would be useful if some independent observer were to witness this Result, so I may believe my own eyes."
Festina was inside the room even before I stopped speaking. She came quickly forward, close enough to the fountain that she could see the chili lying half-in, half-out of the clear crimson liquid. The top of the fruit was still recognizable as a chili; the bottom was equally recognizable as a dollop of purple gloop.
"Holy shit," Festina whispered.
"The holiest," I agreed.
Gray Foam, Purple Goo
I quickly explained what had happened. All the while, the liquid continued to rise in the basin, turning more and more of the chili into quivering gel. When I finished my tale, I asked Festina, "So… is the chili changing into a Fuentes? And if it is, is it now intelligent and lying there listening to us?"
Festina gave a little laugh. "I doubt that a fruit can become sentient just from getting dowsed with liquid. More likely, the fluid is breaking down the chili’s cell structure — like the Modig powder back on Hemlock. With Modig, biologicals always decay into gray foam, whether you start with data circuits or human fingers. With whatever’s in that fountain… I suppose it rips the shit out of something in living cells, and the result is purplish guck."
"If the Fuentes are also purplish guck, they must have used this fluid to rip up their own cells. Why would they do that?"
"Presumably it was the only way to reach the next level of evolution. Maybe you can’t transcend the limitations of physical form unless you break down your body structure. That could be the only way to free your consciousness." Festina shook her head. "Or I could be full of crap. It’s not like I understand this any better than you do."