Василиса Чмелева – Parasomnia (страница 8)

"Survey vessel," I nodded. "One of many."

"Eight crew members strong, we arrived at a planet called Venus." The man's voice grew taut. "Our mission was simple: collect samples, test their viability for engineering applications. But even on approach, we knew… something was wrong." A visible shiver ran through him.

"What happened?" I pressed, unable to mask my urgency.

"The planet was supposed to be barren—no lifeforms, just as Ella, our ship's hologram, had confirmed. But when an unknown magnetic field disrupted our systems, severing all contact with Kallinkor Command…" He trailed off, the memory tightening his jaw. "We nearly crashed. The Stratos-7’s landing was nothing short of a miracle."

"That’s when Ferran first started acting… off," Rovan continued, his gaze dull with a pain that seemed to sear him from within. "Our mining droid stopped responding to commands—along with the rest of the ship’s systems. And it kept moving, leading us away from the Stratos-7." A muscle twitched in his jaw. "When we finally tracked it down, we found these… structures. Unknown magnetic arrays."

"Placed by who?" I frowned.

"Easier to say who didn't place them," the bald man snorted. "That tech was like nothing we'd seen—definitely not human-made. We tried hailing Kallinkor for extraction, but…" A bitter pause. "Turns out we'd been written off."

"That where you lost the hair?" I quipped, unable to resist.

"You've no idea what we truly lost there." Rovan's grip locked around my wrist, forcing me still. His fingers were vise-tight. "Venus's trap isn't some myth. That godsforsaken rock isn't just a trove of future tech—it's a graveyard waiting to claim us all."

According to my chrono, I'd wasted two hours on these morons. Which meant, if luck held, the brothel might still be open.

We entered inside and I bestowed upon my acquaintances a handshake, trying to erase from memory the Kallinkorians' gloomy tale.

"Glughet, Glacius," I extended. "Awoken?"

"Heat, how well we rested at night," came Glacius' voice in my earpiece. "And you, I see, have already met Kallinkorians."

"With greetings to Blokays," said Glughet to the five.

"My pals say they passionately want to warm their bones at the geothermal spring," I said, raising eyebrows. "Will you join us company?"

"Kallinkorian, you're clearly poorly informed about our species," Glughet barked. "We're cold-loving creatures."

"Yet you come here weekly to 'warm up'," I retorted, crossing my arms as I slowly advanced toward the spring with the five Kallinkorians and Coldborn in tow.

"Cold and heat aren't enemies when balanced," Glacius replied cryptically. "But direct high temperatures? That's like shoving a Kallinkorian's hand into a starship thruster."

"Tevin," I called out, beckoning the kid forward. "You and I will take the first soak. The others can watch our backs."

"Is… is this safe?" Tevin sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

"Remember when you got sick back on Kallinkor?" I guided him toward the churning springs, steam curling around us. "How we'd breathe over roasted tubers? Same healing principle."

"But I was born shipside," he frowned, digging in his heels.

"Trust me, kid—miracle cure." I kept pushing him forward, my voice bright with false cheer. "Fixes everything."

"Ethan, I don't like this," Tevin whispered, his fingers clawing at my arm.

"Trust me, friend," I whispered back—then wrenched him face-first over the boiling pool.

Bubbles burst in furious succession as Tevin screamed, thrashing against my grip, each pop spraying his face with scalding droplets.

"Stop him!" Glughet's voice boomed across the springs. "He'll maim the Kallinkorian!"

But the poor bastard's crew didn't move a muscle, their mouths hanging open. Fortunately for me and tragically for the kid, they were starting to grasp my plan.

After three agonizing minutes, Glughet finally snapped. As he yanked the screaming Tevin away from the spring, I gave the Coldborn a slight nudge—just enough to send his left hand plunging into the boiling water. The creature's shriek tore through the brothel, probably reaching the town square.

While the maimed Glughet and Tevin writhed in pain, I snatched a bucket from the bar and scooped up the bluish foam floating at the spring's edge—what remained of Glughet's dissolved hand.

"To your health!" I shouted to the onlookers, their horrified stares fixed on me.

I squeezed my eyes shut and took several gulps. The floor swayed beneath me instantly, the Coldborn blurring into triplets as the sickly-sweet liquid seeped through my veins.

"This is unforgivable!" Glacius roared, propping up his wounded comrade. "You’ll pay for this atrocity. I’ll make sure of it!"

Go on, old friend, I mused through the creeping haze, consciousness slipping. Do exactly that—and make it quick.

"…and Ethan Kendes—Kallinkorian." I blinked sluggishly, my gaze drifting up to the five-meter-tall Coldborn reciting our names like a death sentence.

I stretched, the ice shackles on my wrists and ankles clinking. My crew huddled together, shooting terrified glances at the creature. Beside me, Tevin sniffled, pressing frost-coated cuffs to his blistered cheek.

"How could you?" His voice bubbled with tears. "Did you feel nothing?"

"I feel for everyone. Always." I turned away, echoing my own words back at him. "You're all still breathing—that's compassion enough."

"SILENCE!" The Coldborn's voice shook the refrigeration chamber, vibrations humming through the floor beneath my boots.

"I am Sharius, executor of justice on Blokays. Loyal servant of the storm and time itself."

"Apologies," I said, raising my hands—as much as the ice shackles allowed.

"You dare speak without permission, Kallinkorian?" The Coldborn spat out my species name like a curse.

"Hence the apology, Lord Sharius," I coughed contritely, grateful they hadn't confiscated my Linguatron. "But before you start… dismantling us, might I point out the situation is rather more nuanced?"

"Nuanced?" The Coldborn's voice dripped glacial contempt. "I have Glacius as witness. A maimed Glughet. Your own Kallinkorian kin." Sharius' ice-claw tapped my forehead, each word a frostbitten verdict: "You mutilated my citizen. Then drank his melted flesh before his eyes."

"Ah, but here's the crucial detail—just yesterday, the bartender at Ice Cradle served me the same drink. Made from his own uncle, Cryozor, no less." I blinked rapidly, the afterimages from the hallucinogenic brew still swimming in my vision.

"Consuming deceased melt-off is permitted, Kallinkorian," Sharius sliced through my argument. "You committed the abomination while the Coldborn's body still lived and his mind remained intact."

"My crew planned worse," I clicked my tongue. The team jerked upright in their seats like electrocuted puppets.

"SIT!" Sharius commanded. Then he loomed over me, his glacial breath frosting my skin. I squeezed my eyes shut against the sting, tears freezing at the edges.

"What exactly did they plot?" the Coldborn judge demanded, his voice like cracking glaciers.

"They're not even my crew, Your Honor… sir," I stammered, deliberately oozing fear. "I just met them this morning during my stroll. Thought it'd be fun to hang with fellow Kallinkorians—who knew?"

"What the hell are you spouting?!" the bald one shouted.

"Telling it like it is," I babbled rapidly, locking eyes with the Coldborn. "They wanted to steal your local brew—lots of it. Needed to kill some Coldborn to do it. Even ransacked your Polar Hospital, looking for victims to kidnap!" My voice dropped to a horrified whisper: "On their ship… they'd have butchered them like livestock."

I fell silent, giving Sharius space to process the story. The tactic worked—the judge began pacing the refrigeration chamber like an approaching blizzard, his every footstep vibrating through the frozen air.

"And you believe your actions served Blokays' interests?" he rumbled.

"Absolutely," I nodded without hesitation. "I needed to get your attention immediately, Your Honor. This crew required… dramatic intervention."

"Why not come straight to me? Why the spectacle?"

"I don't know your corridors," I admitted truthfully. "By the time I navigated this maze to find help, they'd have slaughtered my new friends." A carefully calculated sigh. "Poor Glughet and Glacius were in mortal danger. Extreme measures were… regrettably necessary."

Sharius' ice-crusted eyes narrowed. "Then explain drinking the melt-off."

"Then explain drinking the melt-off." The judge's voice carried the weight of cracking ice sheets.

"In the heat of the moment—quite literally—the only thought my panicked mind could grasp was the bartender's claim that it had… calming properties." I lowered my head in a show of shame. "Forgive me, Your Honor, but even I have limits to what horrors I can endure sober."

"Summon this bartender!" Sharius finally commanded. The Coldborn guards bowed and exited.

Twenty agonizing minutes of silence later, Gelsion stood before the court. The way he and Sharius exchanged glances spoke of old familiarity.

"You recognize this man?" Sharius began.