Ex Lacrima Remnant

Track #28 – Unnatural Selection

Robin breathed slowly. An unexpected stroke of luck. No other ways to call it. That, of all the members of the Peacekeeper Corps, Captain Commander Lily herself would show up… was absolutely priceless. The best outcome she could ask for. The only person on that planet that could still stop that madness. In her position of chief of security, she was the one with the reins of the situation. Now, held at gunpoint. Now, knowing that Robin wasn’t joking. Nobody was worth a planet. Not even Caro. Not even that mustached guy she had known for less than a day. What was a life, compared to a species? Nothing. And nothing was how much she cared for them, in that moment. What was important, was preventing the opening. And Lily could. She could. That was it. That was her only chance. Three days before the Turn. Her last hope. She wouldn’t waste it.

Lily glared at that mysterious figure standing in front of her, threw the kid aside, on the broken tiles. She didn’t need him anymore. After all, the masked individual made their point clear: no single civilian life could sway them. They were ready to kill for their cause. That made things easier and harder at the same time. Easier, because there was no need to analyze their psychology in excruciating detail. Harder, because it meant they also had nothing to lose. A dangerous psychopath with a weapon of mass destruction. An explosive combination that could detonate at any time. She stared down the barrel of the gun. That firearm’s design was peculiar. It felt like she had seen something like that before, but the details were all wrong. A design out of a sort of parallel reality, convergent evolution generating a piece of tech that had no right to be there – and, yet, it was. Her eye focused on the mask, on the lenses hiding the preacher’s gaze completely. No, ‘preacher’ was incorrect. Under that robe, they wore something like a complex, intricate black suit filled with utility belts, straps, and pockets. Again, something that felt familiar and different at the same time. She extended her back tendrils to seal the exits, to keep everyone under control. The civilians weren’t allowed to escape – not yet. Lacrima was secured. The metalhead was still knocked out cold. And Mimi… Mimi was powerless – the natural state that suited her the most. A grin escaped Lily’s control, painted her lips. Thinking about Mimi’s helplessness always made her smile, somehow. It was an automatism, one she had little control on, but the mental image of that once oh-so-sunny cheerful girl now being broken, battered and insane made her feel at peace. The cultist spoke, breaking the stalemate, with that weird distorted voice coming out of the speakers on their mask.

“My conditions… are simple. Bring me with you at the Turn. I’ll… personally kill everyone involved. So that… so that nobody opens the vault. I don’t want to see that happen… again!”

Again. That felt a weird way to end that sentence.

“You say that like you’ve been around since the last Turn of the Century? Humans can’t live that long.”

“Not Century! Millennium! I was… I was there when the tenth vault was opened, last time! I can’t let it happen, not under my watch!”

Last time? Clearly delusional. There was no previous Turn of the Millennium. Everyone knew that. Lily glared at that hooded figure, shrugged. Yes, there was no need to bargain – it was a no brainer, now. But, of course, Mimi would gather crazy people around her. It was her specialty. Everyone liked her at the precinct, everyone joked about her lesbian awakening after she saw Primula naked in the greenhouse. Everyone found her endearing. She had a talent to inspire sympathy. What a stupid human specimen. Yet, that specimen in front of her was even stupider. Lily let her tendrils flow from her left arm, slowly, cautiously, let them slither on the floor. Then, one of her back roots extended all of a sudden. And sunk into the dead body of Shane. Starting to suck his water out, under the horrified gaze of the people stuck in the corner.

Carola Frankberg couldn’t understand. As much as her mind gears spun and ground, she couldn’t get it. She couldn’t accept what her eyes were telling her. Shane. Mr. Bald Mustacho. Was dead. Killed by. Robin. That same Robin whose grandma she stopped from jumping from a bridge. Now paying back her courtesy by murdering a downed man in cold blood, just to prove a point. She counted upwards. Five, six, seven. Counting calmed her down, much like it did to that disaster niece she had. But the sight of Shane’s mangled body, now sucked dry by an overeager plant gal, made all of her efforts vain. She glanced at the shattered doors – the front one, leading outside, the side one leading to the gallery where they hid that plant abomination, to an emergency exit close to the lunar gate. Both of them unreachable, now. The first guarded by the tendrils of the iron bitch. The second right behind a murderer with a gun that had no right to exist. She needed to come up with something. And she needed to do it quickly.

Robin’s voice roared in all its distorted anger, resonated in the room.

“So, what do you… what do you say, Captain Commander Lily? Do we have a deal?”

“Oh, please. You don’t have any bargaining chip.”

Robin shivered, her aim faltered for an instant.

“What?”

“You need me alive. If you kill me, you lose everything. So, you won’t pull that trigger, despite your… convincing performance. You have everything to lose and nothing to gain, if you shoot. Or, let me guess… your original plan was to replace me with Lacrima? Disguise her as me? Ridiculous. This failure is too weak, too short to even begin to impersonate me. We might have the same face, the same voice, even the same general appearance… but there’s no way it can work. Deputy Captain Commander Oleander would recognize her immediately. Which means… you have no alternatives.”

Robin flinched, stepped back.

“No, I…”

Right onto the vines, the vines that were slithering to her feet while Lily was talking. Right into their loop. Her ankle captured, pulled all of a sudden. Robin lost her balance, lost her grip on her gun. The barrel hit the ground, right as she fell on her back, on her nape. Then, the vines dragged her towards Lily, while kicking her weapon away, launching it to the other side of the room, making it bounce against the wall. Robin cursed, tried to free herself. Her hand went for one of her pockets, pulled out what looked like a white blade. She clumsily tried to slash the tendril, handling the knife as well as she could. But not well enough. Another vine slapped her weapon away from hand. Then, caught her wrist hostage. Till Lily towered over her, glaring at her from up to down.

“Yes, letting any human open the vault is a mistake. But I can’t bargain with a murderer, you see? I’m an officer. And you… are a vile criminal. One who shot an unarmed man, without being provoked. With the authority provided me by the Peacekeeper Corps, I’m taking you under arrest… together with all these conspirators that aimed to disrupt New Babylon’s constitutional order.”

Lily kicked Robin’s head on the temple, almost crushing the gas mask’s lens. Before stomping on her nose with her heel, thrashing one of the filters. Robin stopped moving, knocked out cold. Her limbs went limp, her body sprayed on the floor, on her red robe. Unconscious. Harmless. Lily counted up to ten, kept monitoring the situation a while longer. Then, she tapped the small commlink in her right ear. Without the wristband broken by Kryzalid, it was her only communication device left intact.

“Control center from Captain Commander Lily. The commotion is over. I’ve neutralized around fifty rebels, including two wanted criminals and an unregistered rhizome. Send three reinforcement squadrons and five PTVs, so that we can bring all of them up. Captain Commander Lily out.”

That’s when she felt something around her foot. Hands. Arms. Grabbing it. Hindering its movements. She looked down, her eye burning with contempt. Oh, of course. Of course. Kryzalid. Clinging to that last hope. Crawling like the worm she was. In a desperate last attempt. Pitiful. Lily’s hand went down like a bolt of lightning, grabbed the blind girl’s neck, lifted it up. Her arm vines wrapped under Kryzalid’s body, straightened it in a cross figure, pulled it up until Lily could look at her blindfold directly, without bowing her head down. She caressed the skin on her prisoner’s cheek with the back of her fingers, her voice low, steady.

“Such a pathetic ending, isn’t it?”

Only for Kryzalid to spit in her eye, yelling like a caged animal. Lily shook her head, cleaned her face with her hand.

“Defiant till the end, I see. That doesn’t suit you, Mimi.”

“Stop! Using! That name!”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

Lily’s fingers wrapped around Mimi’s jaw, reached for her hood first. She pulled it down, freeing her red hair, her braids from the embrace of the dark fabric. Then, she grabbed the blindfold. And ripped it off with one sudden swing of her arm, bringing those blue, opaque eyes to the light. Forcing them to see what little they could. Splotches of white and blue, a blurry red spot. That was all. That was all Mimi’s damaged nerves could make out. Yet, that was more than she wanted to see. That piece of fabric covering her eyes, a safety towel that split Mimi from Kryzalid. Stripped of it, she felt both and none at the same time. Forced to gaze into the depth of the abyss. She couldn’t discern Lily’s expression. She couldn’t see her grin. She couldn’t follow her movements.

“Now, since you like stripping rhizomes so much…”

Lily’s hand delved into the collar of her tattered robe.

“…what if I pay you in kind?”

And her nail started ripping it open, going slowly down her neck, down to her chest, slashing through the fabric of her sports bra. Causing Kryzalid to spit at her again, scream at her, with a gruesome grin.

“Y… you will regret this! I swear I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you dead! I’LL KILL YOU!”

Her voice echoed on the walls, woke up Dobrio from his dreamless slumber, on the other side of the bunker. His eye opened all of a sudden. His head was still spinning, not a single muscle working as intended. His consciousness had just returned, from a state of stupor caused by the hardness of the impact. He was still trying to get his bearings, to assess his situation. But the first thing he saw, was the ugly face of Carola Frankberg, leaning on him.

“Get up, himbo! I can’t turn you around, if you don’t cooperate!”

“…turn me around?”

“Your lazy ass weighs too much, I need the back of your neck, now!”

Dobrio didn’t complain. He didn’t ask. He just did her bidding. Because he was in no state to do anything else. Ms. Frankberg grabbed his connectors, pulled them out of his neck sockets, sunk them into her mechanical arm. She tapped on an holographic keyboard, greenlit the data transfer. Dobrio felt his brain invaded by technical schematics, by waves of information soaking his neurons, filling all the available free space. His pupil dilated, he shook his head in disbelief.

“Carola, what the f…”

“These are the blueprints of Mimi’s nerves and implants. Full schematics. You’re an amateur, a clown, a butcher even. Your fingers are the size of a currywurst. But you ain’t half bad with tools, yes? That wound you dressed when she got impaled? Your patchwork was a travesty, but you did the best one could do without knowing what to touch and where. With them docs, I’m sure you’ll fix her better, despite being a massive idiot.”

“I don’t get it…”

“I’ve got a plan. It’s clear that the iron bitch wants you dumbfucks alive and I can’t save your ass or Mimi’s – that’s beyond me… but you and that idiot niece of mine are sturdy enough to survive in jail, a least for a while. Been there, done that, right? But the people behind us? A buncha shaved pussies. They’d go down in days, not even weeks. So, I wanna give them a chance to run for the lunar gate, pronto”

Dobrio kept assimilating the data. Every inch of Mimi’s body recorded in his brain. The position of every nanowire. Of every pin. Of every neural enhancer. So many. Strings. Mimi’s body. Was nothing. But a tool. From toes to head. Wires. Artificial nerves. A string resonating with her violin. She was part of it. Two sides of a weapon. Now. Now he was starting to understand how… how she could work her magic. What even was left of Mimi, of the original Mimi? He forced himself to focus on Carola, to avoid peering into the files too much.

“Caro, I know your plans. They don’t work. Like, ever.”

“Well, this one better do.”

“Why… do you do this?”

She grinned at him, before finally pressing the red button. Transfer over. All data successfully sent.

“Because fuck the police, that’s why.”

Then, the display disappeared. Ms. Frankberg stood up, turned around, locked eyes with Natasha, with Petr.

“You two ex-cops, yeah? Need you to take the lead, keep a cool head. See, that tunnel where little red riding hood was standing? Go straight on, take the first turn left, seal the door behind the civvies, shutter it good, then run forward for three, maybe four kilometers till you see an opening. There’s a small illegal spaceport at the tail end of that gallery – one that even the Corptards don’t know of. We used it to smuggle alcohol and drugs to the Moon, yes? Get them people on the rockets and shoot them to Neon. Oh, and tell that bozos guarding ‘em that aunt Caro sends ‘em her deepest fuck you. Exact words, gal, okay? Her deepest fuck you. It’s the code word. Don’t mess it up.”

Natasha nodded. She was accustomed to following orders. That made it easier for her. Do what you are told. Don’t think. Just one more time. Almost reassuring. Petr nodded too. Everything was better than waiting for the Corps to arrest them. Everything. Even following the dubious indications of a weird woman with a robotic arm. Said woman lighted up one more cigarette, chewed it between her teeth, drew a puff, exhaled an acrid cloud from her nostrils.

“Scramble when you hear the first bang. That’s the signal.”

Then, she dashed forward, towards Robin’s downed gun. She coasted the cage of vines on Lily’s blind side, rolled on the ground on her artificial arm, fighting the limits of her aging body. Five meters. Two meters. One. Her fingers closed around the handle, the ivory-white casing of the weapon. She put her fleshy finger on the trigger, held the gun with both of her hands. Her aim was unsteady, imprecise. Hitting Lily would have killed Mimi too, or missed both.

Nevertheless

she pulled the trigger.

A humming noise emerged from the weapon. Weak, muffled. Then louder, louder, louder.

Till a bright flash enveloped the room.

And a white bolt pierced the air again. Burning Lily’s back roots, severing them from her body, breaking the cage of tendrils, before crashing against the ceiling. Rubble crumbled down, a rain of tiles, fragments of electric fixtures. Lily jerked forward, turned around, still holding Kryzalid in her hold, trying to understand what happened. The next thing she saw was the barrel of a gun – the same gun – aimed at her again. What she didn’t see was the mass of people moving behind her back, escaping from the corner, concealed by the cloud of dust, desperately reaching for the tunnel, running behind a woman and a man who were once Peacekeepers. All while Carola Frankberg was standing there, with a shite-eating grin plastered all over her face. And a broken, artificial arm, barely dangling from its elbow joint.

“Man, this toy is fun. I wish I designed it! But whoever botched the recoil stabilizer should be anal-probed with a cactus...”

Kryzalid jolted. That voice. That voice could only be…

“O… old hag? What the… what are you…?”

“I’m saving your sorry hide, rancid bitch!”

Mimi gasped, tried to free herself from the grip of the vines, her eyes wet, all her muscles aching.

“N… no! Don’t! Go away! Old hag, she…”

“Enough.”

Lily’s voice. Lapidary. A gravestone on those words. Before she could even blink, her roots regenerated, sprouted from her back like spider legs coated in green slime.

And went for Caro’s chest.

Piercing it where her stomach was.

Skewering it from side to side.

Carola Frankberg jolted. The pain radiated from the wound. She felt it, felt it sparking all over her body. Felt every instant of that vine going through her belly, rupturing her organs, cutting her vessels. A guttural grunt escaped her lips, her eyes opened wide. Yet, her grin returned almost immediately, replacing the grimace with pure, unadulterated mockery. Natasha. Petr. They did it. Her people were safe. All of them. All of them inside the tunnel. Except the child Lily used as a shield. The five, six adults that lie motionless on the floor, knocked out cold. And, of course, Dobrio. That metalhead wouldn’t leave her niece. He had always been like that. Stubborn till the very end. She wondered whether her idiot niece had a bad influence on him. Yeah, of course it was like that. Her Mimi was stubborn too. The best kind of stubborn. So, as blood started pouring out of her deep gash, she didn’t even feel annoyed. Just sad that she couldn’t help that blockhead more. That she couldn’t prevent Lily from ending her life there too. Carola Frankberg didn’t believe in any god. But, in that precise moment, she regretted she didn’t. At least, she could have wished for her stupid excuse of a niece to be saved, to be happy. Because, however she put it, she couldn’t deny.

That they had.

So much fun.

Together.

But that was time for farewells. And what a farewell. She tossed the gun away, incapable of keeping her aim steady, of burning the plant without killing Mimi too. And, with the last of her strength, raised her hand, flipped Lily the bird, pushing her tongue out too in a perfect raspberry.

“FUCK THE CORPS! FUCK THE RHIZOMES! NOW! AND! ALWA…”

She couldn’t finish that utterance.

Her head.

Cut.

With one sudden slash.

Of a black vine.

A grinning head.

Split from her neck.

In a blooming red river of blood.

A head that didn’t blink. That didn’t beg. The head of a woman who chose her path. One without regrets. And was now going down with a smile. Knowing she won, despite all the odds.

A head that fell on the ground, rolling on the floor.

Followed by a collapsing, headless body. Slumping on a broken, metallic arm.

Silence fell.

Absolute silence.

No voices. No sounds.

Except breaths. Slow breaths. Lily’s breath. Shocked. Disoriented. By the sheer willpower of that human. Just for an instant, before turning back to her captured prey, one she was intent in unpacking, before being interrupted. Only to be met by tears. For the first time, Mimi’s face – not Kryzalid’s – welcomed her.

“O… old hag…?”

Lily didn’t raise her voice. Didn’t lower it. Just delivered the news. An objective fact. Not needing any embellishment.

“She’s dead.”

Hearing those words, Kryzalid died too, melting like snow under the sun, leaving Mimi naked, exposing her vulnerable self to the world. In a stream of tears. Of sobs. Of screams.

“N… no…”

“It’s the truth.”

“…why? You… I was your target! Didn’t you… aunt Caro! A… aunt Caro! Aaah. Aaaaah. AAAAAAH!”

She bit her lips, closed her eyes, her useless eyes that didn’t even allow her to catch a last glimpse of her aunt, of the person that brought her up.

“Not you! You lurid fossil, why… you had… you… aunt… aunt Caro… aunt Caro… don’t… ahhh… l… aunt Caro… a… aunt…”

So, she just cried. Like a baby. Without any strength left to react. Without any will to go forward.

“…kill me.”

Without any will to live.

“…kill me, you bastard. P… please. I’m… I’ve had enough… I…”

Suddenly, she felt something wet on her mouth. In her mouth. Lily’s tongue. Forcing her way through it, twisting and turning inside it. Then, it came. A sweet taste. Lymph. Lily was pouring lymph inside her. Through her kiss. Through their contact. Vomiting lymph in her oral cavity, flooding it with it. Mimi gasped, jolted, tried to free herself from that grip. In vain. But. Something else. Triggered.

That taste.

The taste of Lily’s lymph.

Was the same.

The exact same she felt that day.

The day Mimi became Kryzalid.

Memories of the mall, of the heads exploding, of the shot, of the lymph going down her throat. All came back, in a blazing flash. And the pain too. Harrowing. Limitless.

Lily pulled her tongue out, licked the tip of Mimi’s nose, rubbed her forehead on that of the blind girl, in a mockery of a tender gesture. But Mimi couldn’t react. Her eyes were swollen, broken, trembling. Her voice frail.

“Y… you? It was… all this time… the one I was looking for… was you?”

“Indeed.”

“B… but… why? I… I always… you were my hero… my…”

Mimi felt dizzy. Her eyelids getting heavy. Her head spinning. She couldn’t focus. She couldn’t even talk anymore. Her brain started to shut down, her senses dulled by the overflow of lymph. As her blurred vision went dark, she caught a last glimpse of Lily’s face, a splash of white on white, with a red blot where her eye had to be. Mimi was almost completely blind.

But.

She would have sworn.

That the rhizome.

Was.

Smiling.

Then, everything went dark.

And she fell into a dreamless slumber.