Goddess of the Galacticide Episode 66 - Part of the Plan
- Bert-Oliver Boehmer
- 3 days ago
- 6 min read
Cha Dzeeny overlooked the clearing from his tree house’s balcony, inhaling the steady breeze free of the red mist from the large complexes in which the aliens were made. Most people had moved here, into the headwind part of the colony.
“Cup of kiib?” asked Baaii.
Cha’s old senses had missed the scent of his favorite morning beverage, but the spores had whispered the arrival of his companion long before her embrace from behind.
“Gladly,” Cha said, taking the steaming tumbler out of her hands, “thank you!”
He closed his eyes, wishing the moment would never pass. They weaved in the wind, in unison with each other, and with the tall vines, barely visible on the other side of the clearing.
“I was thinking,” said Cha, interrupting the peace himself. Baaii didn’t let go, her arms wrapped around his chest.
“About what?”
“You know what. Look at this place. It’s safe.”
“It’s not that safe. There are still waves.”
“They’re predictable. We know when they’re coming, and except for the main ridge, they’re not that bad anymore. Production doesn’t halt; locals hardly get off balance.”
“Locals?”
“Yes, you know: people who spent most of their lives here.”
“And you want to make more of them?”
“Yes,” said Cha, squeezing himself around despite Baaii’s firm grip, facing her. “With you.”
“I’m still not sure, Cha.” She let go of him. The moment was over, and it was his fault. “It’s just not… no one else is doing it.”
“Having children?”
“Yes. Why do you think that is?”
“I don’t know,” said Cha. “All I know is we’re producing aliens by the thousands, industrial-scale. But we’re not making humans at all.”
He tried to hug her again. “We could make them the old-fashioned way. Could be fun.”
Baaii did not return his smile. Too soon, he had brought it up again, too soon. She just wasn’t ready—maybe never would be. But he had seen them, little humans, chasing each other in the clearing. He had hoped it had been a shared vision, not just a fleeting image, a daydream for his mind only.
“Cha, I don’t know. I—“
“Perimeter breach, section 4. All security personnel, proceed to section 4.”
Cha sighed and set down his drink. “The dzõd nursery. Again. Let’s go.”
He followed Baaii inside and mimicked her moves while she put her gear on. He was fast, but she added something he never had—grace. More than her skills, he admired the fact that she didn’t rub this breach incident in his face. It’s not safe, I told you. She thought it, but didn’t say it out loud. Cha loved her for that.
***
Hypersonic cracks echoed along the giant metal pod buildings housing the viability pre-sorting machinery. More aliens quietly died inside the rattling, squeaking belt-fed factory than it let live. No one unfit for the plan made it out of their egg.
“There!” shouted Baaii.
More dying, but outside. A perimeter fence had been breached and its surface part tangled in a bizarre loop over the fight scene.
Six humans laid automatic fire onto the ground, spraying green clouds of plant material into the air. Some took breaks to reload; others—like Yots—carried an ammo backpack and kept streaming death toward an unseen enemy.
“Yots,” bellowed Cha over the cracks, “report!”
“Stealth vines! They breached here. We’re trying to contain them before they spread out!”
Cha felt Baaii’s hand on his shoulder. “Let’s check the stilts!”
She was right. No need to add their firepower to the six, fanned out in a half circle, pushing back the enemy—hopefully. The dzõd nursery was right behind them, a smaller pod structure, resting on a web of stilts, hexagonally woven and able to withstand the highest green waves.
“Affirmative,” said Cha, “you go around to the left. I’ll take the right. Sweep around.”
“Meet you at the main entrance?” she asked.
He smiled, nodded, and watched Baaii race off.
“Yots, we’re checking on the young females. You guys hold this ground, no matter what emerges!”
“Yes, boss!”
The stilt web was bright white, glistening in the starlight, bulging up from the ground, carrying its payload on top. The nursery. Young females, future generations, a key component of the plan.
Cha jogged along the base of the bulge, clanging his automatic against the stilt frames. Ting-ting-ting-ting. When they arrived on this world, the enemy was brutal but stupid. Ting-ting-ting. Now they were smart, had plans, and varied tactics. Ting-ting-ting-ting. Probed their defenses. Ting-ting-tock. But, worst of all, the plants didn’t always look like plants anymore.
Cha stopped and examined the last stilt frame he had passed closely. He took his glove off and touched the different sides of the hexagon. Cold-cold-warm. He sensed a slight pulsation.
“Stealth vine!” he yelled while stepping back. Taking aim, unloading full auto bursts into the fake stilt, protecting the brood. He was made for this: protecting alien mothers and children, having none of his own. How did this fit into the plan?
The intruder-growth got cut by the kinetic onslaught, and snapped loose into the ground. The cut-off tip could no longer hold its white fake pigmentation, reverting to its natural dark green, baffling Cha with how far it had grown upward, perfectly mimicking the metal structure.
His automatic went silent, but a hiss made his hair stand up.
“Stealth vine!” he yelled again.
None of the six heard him. Cha wished the helmets still had comm units, but the equipment was aging. Not part of the plan.
“Vine snap!”
They neither heard him nor the high-pitched hiss of the vine retreating below ground. The green cover near the team cut open, and a near-black vine bulged out, whipping its end left, right, high and back into the ground. The final crack wasn’t caused by the automatics, but by the vine spasming violently across the breach area before retreating into the wild lands outside the colony.
“Yots, no!”
She had fallen where she stood, cut down by the whiplash of the wounded enemy.
He hurried to her body, fell on his knees next to her, kept her head, neck, and back in a straight line, carefully rolling her over. Both her feet fell off, cleanly amputated just above the ankles.
“I’m good, boss.”
Blood poured into the ground. “Yots,” he panted. “Zuj shiiv!”
“Really, boss. It’ll be fine.”
Baaii’s presence appeared behind him, calming, but not calming enough. She was right; it wasn’t safe here. How could he have been lulled into thinking this was a place for children? This could be his child he was picking up in parts.
“Yots.”
His responsibility. Guilty. He looked at his hands. Yots’ blood. No, it was more than that. It was everyone’s blood. Everyone. Tears rolled down his cheek.
“She’ll be fine, Cha. Come on. Sit down with me, right over there.” Baaii pulled him up. On your feet, Royal Guard. “Come on.” He leaned on her. “Over here.” She sat him down against one of the stilts.
“Great job finding that stealth vine, Cha. And not a moment too soon, its tip almost made it into the nursery.”
“They’ll be fine,” said Cha.
He looked over to Yots, being helped up by her security comrades.
“She’ll be fine.”
Her bleeding had probably stopped by now, and her feet had started regrowing. Dark, ugly stumps at first, then blistering into yellowish bubbles, then smoothing out into skin-covered extremities with toes and nails and everything. They would sweat and stink if you didn’t wash them, just like real feet.
The vines could look like a metal hexagon, so why wouldn’t they be able to grow into feet? Everything was growing here. This is why they were here. Growth was part of the plan.
He looked at Baaii, gently caressed her hair, falling sweaty-wet over her shoulder armor.
“Whenever I fight… whenever I shoot my weapon, I’m transformed.”
She took his hand and held it firm.
“Taken back,” said Cha. To a place or time where Baaii’s voice was still raspy, where feet didn’t regrow, where he had his own plans, and wasn’t just part of a big one.
“We’re breeding aliens here. Big, ugly magiipak. Why don’t they help us guard the perimeter? Carrying strip beams instead of these old automatics.”
Baaii’s finger made a shushing gesture. “Cha, you know why. They’re needed elsewhere.”
Cha sighed, then nodded. There was blood on his hands.
“Elsewhere, I know. Spreading the word of the Goddess.”
Goddess of the Galacticide continues on this website with new episodes each Tuesday.
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