Raising Caine - eARC by Charles E. Gannon

offspring of the Perekmeres’s defiance of the Houses and the Autarchs?”
    If Ulsor Tval Vasarkas’ comment had a subtext, Shethkador could not discern it: “You sound as if you would purge the Perekmeres’ again, if it were possible.”
    “I laud the thoroughness of their Extirpation, even down to the fetuses in the EndoWombs. I would have gladly assisted, had I been asked.”
    This time, Ulsor’s contact trod a line between assertion and irony. “Your reputation for dutiful service remains impeccable, Srin Shethkador.”
    “I would best serve the core values of the Creche worlds if my perspicacity enjoyed equal confidence among the Autarchs.”
    Ulsor’s response was quick and sharp. “Is this insolence, Srin Shethkador?”
    “This is simple fact, esteemed Autarch. Did I not fear this outcome? Did I not predict its disastrous progress?”
    “You did. So how do we know that you have not had a hand in creating that failure to enhance your reputation for foresightfulness?”
    “Let us assume, as your hypothesis must, that I have lost all loyalty to the Ktoran Sphere. Even so, the scheme you suggest would still be folly for me and my geneline. There is more glory to be had, more fame to be acquired, more improvement of my gene-rating to be enjoyed in acquiring victory, than there is in having been sadly correct in my foresight. Will I be draped in the enemy’s skins because I predicted this failure? No. But I might very well have worn that mantle of the flayed remains of our foes had I been able to send word that Earth would soon come under our power. No, esteemed Autarch: though I may be proven right by these events, it is no victory for me.”
    Tlerek could almost see Ulsor’s nod across the dozens of light years. “Well said. And better still, it is as you say.”
    Shethkador could feel the strength borrowed from the expended Catalysite’s protoplasm beginning to wane rapidly, like a star tucking behind the terminator line of a swiftly rotating world. And not a moment too soon: these walking corpses would remonstrate and share their dubious wisdom for hours, given the chance…
    Kromn Tval Shethkador’s contact reached out across the light years briefly but sharply. “Your signal fades, Tlerek Srin Shethkador. You proceed with our trust in your judgment.”
    There was a pulse of approval from Ruurun, followed shortly thereafter by Ulsor’s clipped, “Your perspicacity does not go unappreciated, young Shethkador.” But the emphasis upon “young,” and the absence of praise for other characteristics, was not lost on Tlerek.
    He resolved to dominate what was left of the contact with pointless pleasantries, so that none of the Autarchs could utter any last-second directives that might restrict his actions. “I am gratified to represent the Ktoran Sphere in this place, and to attend to the voices of the Autarchs. I shall make further report as I determine whether it is best to reposition Ferocious Monolith so that it seems to have commenced its homeward journey as instructed by the Custodians, or to fabricate a pretext to remain and gather further data.”
    Tlerek Srin Shethkador waited for a response. There was none—and his sense of the universe as a vast membrane comprised of touch-sensitive cells was gone. In its place was the narrow reality contained within the scope of his senses and an annoying sense of diminishment.
    Shethkador was up off the cushions as soon as he became aware of the first tinge of melancholia: down that path lay overuse of, even addiction to, the artificial surges of the Reifying power enabled by the Catalysites. Of course, the Catalysites themselves were not the enemy: they were utterly insensate. The foe was the Symbiot itself, seducing with the temporarily actualized promise of fabulous power—power which came at the cost of one’s self. Which was why the Ktoran reflex for dominion was all-important, not merely because it fueled the will to control all other species and