📗Larval Haze | 10: Quorum Criticality
Following the events of Strange Harvest, the honey must flow as life grinds on beneath the jungle's alien canopy...
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📗 Part X: Quorum Criticality
Barkland went straight for the lab door. For a moment I thought he’d kill me, just come right in and bludgeon me to death like he did with Leguro. Reflexive fear made me scramble out of bed and leap to my feet, briefly tangling with the sheets. Completely futile—I had no way to escape.
He struggled with the door, grunting and pounding on it in frustration. Loud clangs reverberated through the small area in the lab as the metal flexed and shuddered. “Open! Why won’t it—Gaultmann, open it! You’re dead, Jackson! We coulda been rich!” The armored Duster took an aggressive step toward the others and snarled, “I’m in charge! Open it now!”
Gaultmann backed away with Charana and Rachana behind him, though I couldn’t tell them apart from here. “We can’t kill him if we want to get out of this!”
“What have they said?” I asked on the common channel.
They all turned to look through the window at me, surprised to see me standing. I held a hand over my wound and hunched a little. Barkland pointed a finger of warning at Gaultmann. “Don’t tell him anything, he sold us out! He doesn’t get to win!”
One of the twins gave a smile and surreptitious wave as though she’d only just noticed me. I assumed that was the odd one, Charana. Without even thinking I automatically began to wave back, but caught myself in the absurdity of the moment before I did.
Over Barkland’s objections, Gaultmann blurted, “Psathyrella. Culling the octopiders. I just pitched it to the Harvesters—a counter offer. We still give you up, you still go home, but we’d contract for them, you know, off the books. Exterminators, right? With how much they spend protecting their honey from these things, I thought they’d make a deal. No one wants to be out here, we kill the bugs for ‘em… everybody wins.”
I guessed, “But they won’t bite. And you want my help.”
Barkland slammed a fist against the wall and I saw the glass tremble. “Fuck you, Jackson! We don’t need your help, they’d never work with us anyway. Gaultmann, if he leaves, we have nothing. No source of honey. The grow lab’s done. They’ll either kill us or arrest us. We need to just blast our way out—”
By this point, Fasma had also joined the group on the other side of the lab windows. He barked a laugh. “Easy for you to say! The rest of us don’t have armor. This deal is our only chance. We need to take it.”
“Hey, the point is—” Gaultmann cut in, talking over them. “Point is, the Harvesters want to speak with you, Jackson. Make sure you’ve been treated well, and all. So we’d like you to put a word in for us, you know? Yes, there was the mild kidnapping situation, but we did think you were dead, and we took care of you after that, didn’t we? Got those eggs out of you? And we even kept the grubs safe, too.”
I nodded as he spoke. There was a threat veiled in there—they could still hurt the wasp grubs. I think I’d have reacted more strongly earlier, when the venom was still strong in me, but having since faded… there was a lingering sense of protectiveness, just not the same frenzied urgency. I could override the feeling.
It felt a bit cold, but I didn’t need lotus wasps anymore if I wasn’t stuck with the Dusters. I had to look out for myself. From this point, it would likely be the Harvesters who decided what happened to the grubs. As lotus queens—not just typical sentinel, warrior, or worker wasps—they’d be valuable goods to the Harvesters, potentially a long-term income source.
Finally, I said, “Yes. It is a good plan, and the Harvesters can help you do a better job of it if we get them on our side. I don’t know if they’ll take me seriously, but I’ll try. Whether they reconsider is up to them.”
“Right, quickly! I'm calling a vote,” Gaultmann announced, shouting over Barkland’s immediate objections. “Same as when we saved Jackson! You called a vote then, I’m calling one now! Whatever pans out, we split the take five ways.”
“Split nothing five ways!” When Barkland went to again intimidate everyone with his nullsuit and rifle, Gaultmann planted himself in the way and threw his arms up wildly, thrusting his wide-eyed face right in Barkland’s visor.
He smacked the metal chestplate with the palm of his hand in time with each of his next words. “You’ve—said—your—piece! What, you're gonna kill us all? Eh? It’s a good plan! We can still walk away with something! Don’t throw it all away again! How do you think you ended up here? Make the right choice for once. Trust me. Trust me, you fool!”
Balling his fists and shaking with rage, Barkland glared but held himself back, broke away with a growl, and cleverly shot back, “Fuck you.”
“Right, one for ‘no.’ Now Jackson, you get to have a think by yourself about what a grimy shit you are for ratting us out.” Gaultmann killed my link again, leaving me in silence. They formed a half-circle, with everyone noticeably keeping their distance from Barkland in his murdersuit, and argued in muted, dull voices.
Even though I felt much more… myself, I knew this would help the lotus wasps, too, if the Dusters managed to clear a bunch of territory for them to expand into. I mainly wanted to save my own skin at the moment, but getting me out this way would also help them. Octopiders were the number one competition for the lotus wasps, and removing them… it seemed like it would play right into what I remembered of the lotus queen’s plans.
It was like squinting through fog at something distant—her memories before were visceral full-sensory experiences. I felt nothing now, like it had all been a dream: there were disconnected fragments about new hives growing strong, the thrill of territorial expansion, and fat, wriggling grubs feasting on bright blue lotus nectar. It was all still swimming around in there, but more in the background, seeming less real the more I thought about it.
But having heard the plan set in motion, this Psathyrella mushroom… something snagged at me. Unintended consequences, probably. I couldn’t dwell on it, or it would draw me in like gravity, something massive and dense out there just… pulling. Generations of my young stood to benefit from this.
I needed to stay in control, not get locked onto a train of thought that risked my chances. Already, I could feel dark memories tickling at the edges, shadows swirling in the fog. This feeling started in my stomach like standing at the edge of a cliff. Looking at the drop and thinking what would happen if I—
Stop, I told myself. Breathe.
In through the nose. Out through the mouth. Steady.
This plan was my ticket out of this hellhole and it was already in motion. My best shot was to see it through. All the way to Overlook. Back under the dome.
After a brief debate and only a little yelling, I heard the others faintly sound off their votes one by one. Gaultmann reactivated my link. “We’re four in favor and two against—Glorious Leader Barkland got an extra vote on account of his elite status and… very shiny suit.”
Barkland muttered, “Bullshit.”
“Good,” I replied. “Let me talk to them.”
“No need, Jackson, don’t waste your breath,” said a familiar voice as he intruded into our channel. With blunt dismissiveness, Chavos continued, “We already heard the whole thing. Not interested. Can’t believe it took us this long to find you amateurs.”
“Who’s there?” Barkland immediately shouldered his rifle and swept it in random directions, causing the others to yell and scatter. Luckily the channel seemed to squelch all the noise automatically. I wasn’t sure if the beams would punch through the glass, but I took cover behind the doorframe anyway and squatted with my back and shoulder against the wall.
Maybe Chavos had control of our comms and muted them. I tested my connection. “Chavos, you there?”
When he didn’t reply, I thought maybe I’d just been cut out again. I peered out the lab window looking for the others, but after a moment Chavos hissed in my link, “Don’t use my name, dumbass.”
I winced… still the rookie. “Shit, sorry. We alone?”
“Yes. Now smarten up.” His angry tone suddenly became uncharacteristically somber. “You’d be surprised what people have done for you, Jackson. Now’s not the time for questions, but things have changed. We’re… on the run, a bit. We don’t have time to hang around and make deals. You need to get out of there.”
“But this could be huge,” I blurted, unable to stop myself from pushing for the lotus wasps’ benefit. The opportunity would be lost if I didn’t do it now. “Mueller doesn’t care about getting rid of the octopiders, even after we lost a whole hive? And a queen? Is he worried about ripple effects?”
“Jesus, Jackson! I said no more questions. You keep dropping names, I’ll kill you myself! Enough stalling—it’s either time for you to come out, or for us to come in. Do you have a path out?”
Disappointed by his lack of interest, I shook my head. I didn’t understand. “No, I’m locked in.”
The link went quiet. Without the HUD on the display contact lenses, I couldn’t tell whether he’d just muted himself or left. “You there? Turn on my lenses if you can. I need back in.”
After a long gap, Chavos returned sounding much more urgent. “Done. I’m at the airlock with a Packhound—grab a pressure suit on your way. Take a right, straight down the hallway, airlock on the right at the first junction. I just opened your door. Get moving. Go!”
The lab door’s lock disabled with an audible click and slid open. A moment later, my display lenses’ HUD lit back up with full security access restored. I reoriented myself, adjusting back to the semi-transparent overlay as I hurried out the open lab door.
I pulled up Barkland’s suit feed to see him in the cafeteria, face-to-face with Gaultmann, Fasma, and one of the twins. No sign of the other. I moved down the hallway on unsteady legs, stiff and weak from the many days I’d spent recovering in bed. Quick as I could manage, I went to the exit airlock.
It wasn’t until I rounded the corner and opened the inner door to the cramped room that I saw Charana sitting there in the airlock, cross-legged, bouncing her knees up and down with the Royal Lotus Artificial Hive Frame in front of her. Just watching it, with her back to me.
I heard her speaking in soft, delighted tones.
Through the semi-translucent amber-gray panels on the Frame, I saw moving shadows. Crawling shapes with angular legs.
They called to me, in a language I felt and thought.
***
To live many lives, as one life.
Together, alone, apart, as one.
Five broodsame, interconnected, finite.
A shared awakening, for separate paths.
Out. Fly. Free.
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