Trail Mix: Amoeba

  “But you set it at the highest level,” Wizard said. “Impressive master.”

  “Grandmaster,” Tod said with half a smile.

  “If that means what I think it means,” Vanja said, “You are a genius player.”

  Tod shrugged. “I’d probably go to pieces in actual competition. I just play for the challenge.”

  “And there is the likely reason you were summoned,” Wizard said. “Your mental skill in organizing and completing a challenging task. You are the leader.”

  “But I’m not a leader!” Tod protested. “I’m just an anonymous warehouseman.”

  “In your home frame,” Wizard said. “Not on the trail.”

  “I’m no leader here either.”

  “Not by choice.”

  “But—” He looked desperately at Veee, Vanja, and Bem, but none of them looked supportive.

  “You are as reluctant to recognize your role as Veee was to recognize hers,” Wizard said. “But for this purpose you must conform.”

  “I think he means that I can figure out the nature of a situation,” Veee said. “But you are the one who organizes it to accomplish the requirement. To get the job done. I tell you the rules; you play the game. Our talents complement each other.”

  “Exactly,” Wizard agreed. “I see that when predators attacked, you were the one who organized resistance and enabled your party to escape.”

  “He sure did,” Vanja said. “I thought we were dead meat in the water, but he set the wolves against the shocks and got us through.”

  “I did what I had to do,” Tod said, embarrassed.

  “Exactly,” Wizard repeated. He glanced at Vanja. “May I scry you next? I can see without scrying that you hail from an alternate reality. This trail is casting an unusually wide net, if that is not too much of a mixing of terms.”

  “Will you tell us what you know of our reason for being here?”

  “That can not be properly answered until I know more about you.”

  “You’re avoiding the issue.”

  “The issue is more complicated than you perhaps appreciate. But I will tell you what I can when I have better information.”

  “Oh, pooh!” Tod had the impression she would normally have used a more vulgar term, but was moderating her speech in line with her decision to befriend the others.

  Tod stepped back and the vampire came forward. “If you embarrass me in front of my friends, I’ll bite you and make you my love slave,” she said with a limited smile as she proffered her hand.

  Wizard smiled back. “Don’t flirt with me, vamp. I am too old to respond to your wiles, much as I might have liked to in my prime.” He focused, and whistled. “Oh, how I would have liked to, you naughty creature! You seduced Tod in public in minutes and made him forget.” He frowned. “Yet you failed to complete your conquest, though you could readily have done so. That is not like your kind.”

  “Can you tell me why?” Vanja asked evenly. She was testing him, as Veee had.

  “Because you desire true friendship more than sex or blood, and found a woman capable and worthy of it. Whose friendship you would have forfeited had you absconded with her man.” He glanced at Veee. “Smart decision. Instead of fracturing the forming team, you acted to bind it together. I am impressed.”

  “We vamps are a practical breed.”

  “You left your home setting because the chief took another woman instead of you. She was barely the shadow of you. Neither as pretty nor as smart, a relatively unskilled dancer, and not nearly as motivated. You were disgusted.”

  “Right on. Why did he take her?”

  “Because not only were you better than she was, you were better than he was. Few men want to marry a woman who is obviously smarter than they are, or even have her for a mistress.”

  Vanja clapped a hand to her forehead. “That’s right! How could I not have realized?”

  “You were blinded by rage. But your decision was good. He was not worthy of you, and you would have been fed up with him before long. Tod here is much more your type, even if you have to share him.”

  “You are scoring, Wizard. Why did the trail come for me?”

  “You are single minded, too. You clearly possess abilities or traits that are in demand for this mission, though I don’t know what they are. Selections can be devious.” Wizard turned to Bem. “Will you be scried next?”

  Vanja stepped back, impressed as Veee and Tod had been. Bem glided forward, extending an extruded arm. Wizard took it and focused.

  And reacted with surprise. “You are no common frustrated entity! You are a prince, or the equivalent!”

  “Not here on the trail.” But the others were surprised too. Bem had said nothing about this.

  “You are destined to inherit what I term for lack of a better description the throne of Snalliverti and assume enormous power,” Wizard continued. “Yet you took the trail instead.” He focused further. “Ah. Because you felt unworthy. That you would botch the job and disappoint your people. So when the trail beckoned, you took it, leaving your destiny behind.” He looked up. “But you are not unworthy, and you must not leave it behind. Your people need you. You will not disappoint them. You are far more qualified than you choose to believe, and you will have motive to succeed. When you are done here you will return.”

  Bem flashed rebelliously. “This is not my intention.”

  “Not your present intention. That will change.”

  “You can scry the future?”

  “No. But I can see enough in the present to know the currents channeling you. You will become satisfied that you need to return, as I did my first time.”

  “Perhaps,” Bem said noncommittally.

  But Tod believed Wizard, who had identified Bem in a manner they had not known about. Wizard was authentic.

  “Something we have figured out, that maybe you can confirm,” Tod said. “We conclude that we are ultimately unified by the arts we privately practice: music, painting, dance, architecture. Does this make sense to you?”

  “Perfect sense,” Wizard agreed. “You are widely divergent entities who might have trouble getting along together, even on the conducive trail. But your shared artistic creativity gives you a common bond. That is no coincidence.”

  “Just so,” Tod agreed. He knew the others understood what he was doing. “So do you also have an art?”

  Wizard smiled. “That was clever of you to fathom. Yes, I share this secret. I do not practice it in my normal frame, but I long to.”

  He was reticent about it, as they were. He had to be prodded. “And what is that art?”

  “I long to be a story teller. Not necessarily an excellent one, merely good enough to hold a small audience, at least for a while.”

  “Why didn’t you do it?”

  “Because I am a wizard. It is my duty to perform magic, not to talk about it.”

  The others nodded.

  “I will listen raptly to your stories if you will watch me dance without yawning,” Vanja said. “The same goes for the others with their arts.”

  “Gladly!”

  Vanja glanced around, meeting the gaze of each of the others in turn, verifying their approval. Wizard was indeed one of them. “Then welcome to the club.”

  “I thank you for that welcome,” Wizard said sincerely. “It is the kind of acceptance I have longed for all my life.”

  But that was only the beginning. “Now it is time for you to tell us what else you know,” Tod said firmly.

  Wizard nodded. “It is time to tell you about the Amoeba.”

  The members of the group stared at him. What was this? They knew nothing about any amoeba.

  Yet.

  Chapter 5:

  Amoeba

  “The Amoeba extends across space, time, and alternate realities,” Wizard said. “Extending pseudopods where they are needed. It is subtle, avoiding notoriety; few even know of it. But it is a vital force dealing with particular problems, and I think our universe would not survive
without it.”

  “What has this to do with us?” Vanja asked impatiently.

  “Patience, vamp, and it will come clear in due course. When there is a problem, the Amoeba assesses it in its fashion and summons individuals to form a team to handle that problem. The Amoeba is not intelligent in the manner we are; it is more like water seeking its own level, or a plant seeking necessary earth, water, and sunlight so it can survive. But it is very sure in its actions, and is always correct in its assessments even if that does not necessarily seem so at first.”

  “Are you saying that this—this obscure thing is what summoned us here?” Tod asked. “To deal with some problem only it is aware of?”

  “Exactly. We owe our presence here, and our ability to survive comfortably here, and to intercommunicate, to the Amoeba. Without it we would be completely ignorant.”

  “Perhaps we should meet the Amoeba,” Bem said. “And ascertain what problem it thinks we can handle.”

  “You have already met it.”

  The four looked blankly at Wizard. “I don’t remember that meeting,” Vanja said.

  “The trail!” Veee exclaimed.

  Wizard nodded. “And of course you are the first to catch on, Veee. Yes, the extending pseudopods are the sections of the trail, reaching out to our several worlds and conducting us in to the larger body of it. We are inside the Amoeba, and owe our present comfort entirely to its supportive ambiance. In fact—”

  There was a scream. They looked, seeing a child caught by an orange scuttling crablike thing, being rapidly carried away. Several villagers were in pursuit, but the crab was outdistancing them.

  Tod drew his pistol and fired. He knew he hit the crab, but the bullet had no effect. “Uh-oh,” he murmured.

  Vanja transformed and flew to intercept it. She landed in front of it, returned to human form, grabbed at it, and put her face to its body. She was biting it.

  The crab scuttled a few steps farther, slowed, then settled in place. The villagers caught up and took the crying girl. “Appreciation, miss!” a man called. “You saved her!”

  Tod, Veee, and Bem arrived on the scene. The crab had six legs below with single hoof-like claws, six arms above with single knife-like nails, but no sign of eyes or ears, mouth or anus. Now Tod saw the bullet hole through the center of the crab. He had scored, but not killed it. It had taken Vanja’s vampire bite to stop it.

  A woman, evidently the child’s mother, rushed in to pick up the girl. There was blood on her arms and body where the thing’s spikes had penetrated, but it looked as though she would survive.

  “What is this thing?” Tod asked as they came up to it.

  “I believe I know,” Bem said. “That also answers why I was summoned here. I have seen this type of thing before, and it is dangerous. We had a ferociously awful time extirpating their invasion before they extirpated us. That is a variety of android. A semi-living creature made in a laboratory or the equivalent, having no mind of its own, to bones, organs, or circulatory system. Animate plastic with light and sound-sensitive skin. All androids connect mentally to the central brain, and are extensions of it; what one knows, all know, instantly. The units feel no pain, physical or emotional and are fearless. The only way to disable them is to cut off their limbs, or melt them in a fire or with acid, or as Vanja demonstrated, inject paralyzing poison to nullify their animation, though I am surprised that worked considering their bloodless nature.”

  “Our poison spreads by contagion through flesh, needing no blood,” Vanja said. “We don’t like to pollute what we drink.”

  “That last is hardly practical on the larger scale,” Bem said. “The only reason she got a bite was because it was alone and its limbs were occupied supporting the child. They do defend themselves when attacked, coordinated by the central mind. There will be many more appearing soon, now that this village has been discovered.”

  “This one relayed what it saw to its brain?” Veee asked.

  “Yes. Contact is continuous. So the only reason we have not seen more androids yet must be because this is as yet early in their cycle and not many are available. That will soon change.” Bem angled its knob toward the crab. “De-limb it now; it is recovering.”

  Tod drew his hunting knife and attacked the stirring android. Its upper limbs lifted to fend him off, but he sliced forcefully at each. The blade cut through the tough hide; several strokes were required for each arm, but soon all six mere lying on the ground around it. The android tried to scuttle away, but Vanja caught its hindmost legs to hold it back, while Tod hacked at them. It still tried to run on four, but Vanja caught two more and Tod severed them. Finally it was completely de-limbed and helpless. There was no blood; the cuts were dry, as if the thing really were made of plastic.

  “It may still be observing us,” Bem said. “Its surface is light sensitive.”

  “Allow me,” Wizard said. He brought out his wand, oriented it, and a jet of flame shot out, bathing the hulk of the android. The substance crackled and scorched, then caught fire as the jet continued. Foul-smelling smoke rose up, making them cough, stinging Tod’s eyes. The mound of it reluctantly shrank. This, again, was like burning plastic, Tod thought. Not something they wanted to do often.

  The jet stopped. “I think that has ended any perceptive ability it has,” Wizard said. “No sense wasting power. It should rot in time and become fertilizer for the local plants.”

  “What was it going to do with the child?” Vanja asked.

  “Carry her back to its brain,” Bem said, “which will likely be a pool of protoplasm in a depression, and dump her in. Her body would rapidly dissolve and become more protoplasm, available to make more androids. This is how it expands. All the villagers will be at risk. The android will not stop until all available protoplasm has been consumed. Then it will move on to another village. The longer it continues, the harder it will be to stop. We must not delay our action long.”

  “What action?” Tod asked, sheathing his knife.

  “We must destroy the pool. That will be difficult, because it will be most fiercely defended, even at the outset.”

  “How can it be destroyed?”

  “That is a challenge. It could be burned, if there were fire enough. Possibly cutting all the trees and building a huge bonfire over it would suffice. We managed in our frame to build a large lens and cause a focus ray of our star to burn it up, but there is no sufficient technology here.”

  “I believe that will be my job,” Wizard said. “I will magically bomb it. Such a bomb will destroy its animation, leaving inert substance. But that course is fraught with its own complications. This is evidently the mission for which we were summoned; we must organize our campaign.” He looked at Tod. “Take over, leader.”

  Tod realized that he had no choice. He surprised himself by taking hold. “We will need to organize the villagers, as they are most at risk. They need to build temporary fortifications to stop the androids. You can do that, Bem, as you know the nature of the attack that will soon come. We must also locate the android pool and discover an avenue to reach it—one it will not be aware of, for the sake of surprise. That’s your job, Vanja, in bat form. Try not to let them see you.”

  “They know I can transform, because this thing saw me.”

  “But they don’t yet know that we know their nature,” Veee said. “They won’t expect us to spy on them.”

  “Got it,” Vanja agreed.

  “And we must figure out how our several abilities will contribute most effectively to this campaign. You can do that, Veee. Meanwhile I need to know more about the Amoeba, in case there is relevant information that will facilitate our mission, or indeed, make it possible to accomplish.” He paused momentarily. “Get on it, Bem and Vanja; you know better than I do what to do. Veee, stay with me and learn what you can; you will define the rules of this game. Wizard—let’s go somewhere private and talk.”

  “I am impressed,” Bem said, flashing. It slid toward the center of the village, is
suing a siren-like call for attention. The villagers began gathering around it, having seen the danger to the child. They had evidently encountered alien creatures before, so knew that they were not necessarily enemies. Bem was a good alien.

  “I am impressed too,” Vanja said. She transformed and flew away. The villagers now knew that she, too, was on their side.

  Veee merely squeezed his hand.

  Wizard led the way along the trail through the village, coming to a covered spring surrounded by a low wall. They sat on the wall. “What else is there about the Amoeba?” Tod asked. “You had told us that we are in its ambiance, when we were interrupted by the android.”

  “And I would like to know how it is that you have not suffered sickness here,” Veee said. “Have you not eaten anything?”

  “I have eaten, but suffered only a marginal queasiness. That is because this is not my first venture here. I was quite ill the first time. That is an aspect of it: travelers become integrated as they ingest substance within the Amoeba. At that point they have aspects of it outside and inside them. That normally causes their bodies to react, but thereafter they are acclimatized and have no further trouble of that nature.”

  “What about the predators on the trail?” Tod asked. “Was that a challenge to test our fitness to survive?”

  “I think not. I suspect that predators are invasive species that have learned that where there are trails, there are travelers, and those are prey. So they close in on targets of opportunity. The Amoeba does not act directly, so can’t stop them. But quite possibly it selects creatures who are capable of dealing with incidental predators; that would be part of their qualifications for the mission.”

  “And the trail that ended in a box canyon?” Veee asked.

  “Bem can climb. He enabled you to make that ascent. The team as a whole can do things that its individual components can’t. The Amoeba would not consciously plan that, but would simply know that you could handle that problem.”