Page 13 of Scion

She chews a mouthful of breakfast as she contemplates me. “Favourite memory?”

“Killing a lifer a couple of nights ago. That was a lot of fun.” I rub my chin. “Killing any of them, really. They’re all good times.”

A disapproving look. “You need to be honest, remember?”

“And we need to take a look at your biosecurity if you want to stay alive.”

Old Woman pushes her plate aside. “Let’s go, then. But you’re not off the hook. You’re going to have to answer sooner or later.”

I don’t answer. Can’t help but wonder whether this crazy old lady really does have the information I want in that damned file, or this is all some elaborate scam. But she knows something, that much is clear. And I’ve looked for answers about Oceanus for four years. I can withstand a little irritation for the chance.

We head for the main entrance. My cogs tingle as we climb the stairs and exit, that section of the back of my mind registering our passage as clearly as my eyes. “How big’s your EMP ring?”

“Twenty kilometres to the edge.”

We traipse past the volo pad. I’m silent as I calculate. “Seriously?” That’s large. Really, excessively large.

“Seriously.”

“How many bios do you have?”

She thinks. “A couple of hundred, maybe?”

I don’t say anything. It’s an absurd claim, an outright lie. Even if they’re all small—and judging from the lion-giant yesterday, they’re not—there aren’t enough tokens in the world to buy that much biosecurity. Not to mention that no one could hide the provision of it. No security consultant, no matter how good, would be able to conceal that sort of job from my circles.

“Do you have a list?”

She taps her head. “Up here.”

Of course it is. “How many are Argos-class?” Generally considered to be the most effective killers. An assessment my still-painful leg wouldn’t argue.

She wrinkles her nose. “None. Disgusting creatures. And not smart enough to fend for themselves.”

We’re headed into the woods now, along a thin trail of packed dirt. Into the EMP ring, I’m guessing, though worryingly, there’s no clear delineation. I activate my revs. Even with the owner present, you don’t take chances with these things. “What do you mean, ‘fend for themselves’?”

“I mean you have to feed them. Clean them. They have no agency, no initiative.”

The fact she says it so casually only makes my unease all the deeper. “That’s… that’s how they work. They’re biomachinery. Single-function tools that need to be maintained. Not…pets.”

She smiles blithely at me, then stops as we enter a small clearing and cups her hands to her mouth. “Everyone! I have someone for you to meet!” Just yelling it into the air. No command word. Like she’s calling for friends to come and say hello.

My revs burn with warning.

I freeze. Everything’s still, but the entire sense of the forest has changed in an instant; I can feel things nearing, closing in on all sides. A cacophony of silent pressures in my head.

“Relax,” Old Woman says, evidently seeing me doing the exact opposite of that. “They won’t hurt you.”

The sky darkens, and I do not believe her.

The owllike creatures are first. Black wings three metres across. Claws and wickedly curved beaks glinting. Coalescing above us with a papery, scratching flutter before settling into the branches above. Black eyes in white, masklike faces watching silently. There are at least a dozen of them. I cannot imagine anything creepier.

Then come the snakes.

They’re huge. Really, upsettingly huge. Slithering not just along the ground but through the branches up above. Hard to tell how many there are; they’re the colour of the leaves, giving the forest the impression that it’s crawling. More abruptly poke up from the dirt. Heads the size of my hands clasped together. They’ve burrowed to get here. Would my revs be able to detect them if they were right underneath my feet? I have no idea.

The bushes around us shake with movement. I see glimpses of sleek, dark fur and teeth behind the leaves, enormous shadows. Panthers, maybe? The monstrous lion, Richard, prowls calmly into view, rubbing up against Old Woman before settling at her feet with a rumbling growl-purr. The only one to fully reveal itself.

“What the hell is this?” I keep very still and my voice low. I would even with standard bios, and these… these are like nothing I’ve ever seen. Ever heard of. They’re acting wary, too, hanging back in cover rather than obediently presenting themselves. Much closer to wildlife, even if they’re still undoubtedly lab-bred.