331: Leverage

‘Can I see the Knife she gave you?’ Serrin asked. The Hornet had come closer as they travelled through the jungle. Now he deactivated his invisibility, flickering into view.

Nicolai regarded this, naturally, with immediate suspicion. But after considering the Hornet he silently handed it over.

Doing so was a method of saying “I trust you.” A gesture he felt—and Psychology agreed—would encourage the Hornet to trust him in turn. A gesture easily made, when the Knife couldn’t be activated by Serrin, who hasn't broken it in.

The Hornet looked it over. They’d slowed to a walk. Nicolai used his Pegasi rings to help navigate past a large, thorny bush. Serrin’s spiritual wings, which seemed to allow for levitation as well as flight, were used to the same purpose.

Upon landing Serrin handed the Knife back. ‘There’s a tracker in it.’

Nicolai frowned, his grip on the Knife becoming markedly less possessive.

‘How did you know?’ He didn’t doubt the Hornet, but he’d checked it over himself with Soul Sense and found nothing out of the ordinary.

‘She’s been using the same method to track me for years. Took me a long time to learn how to spot the signs. It doesn’t work via ripples, so it’s hard to notice. There will be a spiritual residue within the Knife. She holds the Symbiote that created the residue, which senses the location. I’m pretty sure she’s able to record all movements, putting it on a map. Luckily enough, it can be removed.’ Serrin emanated some smugness, leaned over to poke at the Knife. ‘You have to massage it with Soul Sense in a certain way, if you do it right you’ll be able to pull it out. From there, I normally put it wherever I want her to think I am—it’s possible to put it in just about anything. Oh! There’s also this…’

Serrin focused, and his Soul Sense grew somehow denser. It slowly swept over his body, then extended toward Nicolai. ‘May I?’

‘Go ahead.’

Serrin swept him, too.

‘You’re clean,’ he said at length. ‘We both are. You have to watch out for Spiderlings, my mother’s adviser puts them on people.’

Nicolai, very invested in both the methods shown, asked Serrin to show him how to remove the residue and check for spiders. The Hornet obliged. The method was surprisingly tricky. It required holding the Knife and slowly running his fingers and Soul Sense down the knife. While doing so he also needed to generate a subtle “vibration” from his Soul’s fingers.

It was something that Nicolai actually struggled to do, requiring a gentle, delicate touch of a kind he’d never needed before. The vibration effect especially was deeply unintuitive.

He watched Serrin’s demonstration very carefully. Seeing the Hornet manipulate his Soul and Soul Sense, one thing became very clear. Serrin was masterful at this. He’d never seen someone with such perfect Soul control. After a few minutes the Hornet pulled the spiritual residue out. It was a faint purple substance which had no physical presence and could only be moved with Soul Sense. At Nicolai’s request he returned it into the Knife, which was done much more easily.

After almost ten minutes of intense focus, Nicolai managed to separate out the residue. Cyberwarfare was especially interested in the stuff. He attempted to Examine it but his Mark didn’t give any text, so after taking an imprint of the spiritual sense it gave off he returned it to the Knife.

As to the method for finding these “spiderlings,” it was even harder. He got the general gist of it, however, and determined to practise it whenever he could.

They were silent for a time. Nicolai was thinking on this latest problem. The Queen would have seen his movements. However, in truth the most suspicious thing he’d done had been leaving the underground. He could spin that as occurring during his fight with the Highspawn, say that they’d chased him out here. As to her seeing his movement go through his base… so long as she didn’t go and actually look down there, there was no reason for her to be suspicious about it; it would appear to be just another part of the bug’s warrens.

The true issue was that there should therefore be no need for him to ever return here. If he returned to his base while she was tracking him, she would begin to suspect. Perhaps he could invent some excuse, say he’d left a piece of equipment, but that would only work once and was risky in any case.

Even without the influence of the Mask—who was clearly already becoming quite attached to the Hornet—Nicolai couldn’t help but feel some appreciation for Serrin. Without him, disaster might have struck. He remained something of a novice in many matters of spirit and Symbiotes, and it was unlikely he’d have noticed the tracker until it was too late.

Not only that, but developing the skill to peer into the Spiritual Realm would take some time, but there was no telling when the Scoundrels would try for him again. His view of Serrin had shifted significantly with this in mind.

He needed to keep the Hornet close.

Nicolai resolved that as soon as he had some freedom from the Hornets, he would establish a fake base. There he could leave the tracker whenever he returned to his true one. He would set up cameras and equipment in case the Queen ever checked.

In the meantime, he needed leverage. He needed to understand what the Queen wanted, and how he could use those wants against her. Another area where Serrin could help.

By now they had returned most of the way toward the base—only half a mile out. Nicolai stopped and turned to Serrin. After a brief mental debate with the Mask and Psychology, he removed his helmet and faced the young Hornet.

‘I, as you might suspect, am not kindly disposed to your mother. She has forced control over me, and I desire nothing so much as to gain my freedom. If you also want freedom from her then our desires align.’

He allowed a Cyberwarfare-inspired Significant Pause to stretch. The kind of pause that suggested he was having a moment. He frowned, thoughtful. He looked away from Serrin, then back. He wasn’t sure whether the Hornet was even capable of reading human facial expressions, so he also utilised other methods too. His faint Soul emanations mirrored his “feelings,” as did his body language. Indecision, uncertainty, fear. Then those faded, were replaced by decisiveness and trust. He looked up and gazed earnestly into Serrin’s eyes.

‘So long as you stick by me, I will stick by you. Regardless of anything else, you can rely on me to have your back.’

He’d come up with the act with the aid of Psychology, and also drawn on the Mask for the last part. The Mask truly felt the final earnestness, the desire to work honestly, to have a true ally. It told him, in no uncertain terms, that if this fell apart it better not be because of him. That Serrin was a Better Man and they should work honestly with him.

Nicolai accepted this surprisingly easily. So far Serrin had been nothing but helpful, and there was no sign of dishonesty in his manner. He had also decided, somewhere along his slow, uncertain progression down the Better Man path, that working honestly with people was allowable, if they were found to be reliable and trustworthy. And ideally if he could get some leverage over them, just in case.

However, it was still too early for him to think of Serrin in that way, but he was willing to at least pretend he did, for now. That would give him time to scope the Hornet out, learn all he could, and determine whether Serrin truly was a Better Man, and if he should therefore be a Better Man in return.

The Hornet’s wings flicked with excitement. A low hum escaped him.

‘I will stick,’ said Serrin. ‘Yes, human. I desire freedom from her, freedom from the hive, freedom from my own kind. I wish to go my own way, my own path. I wish to live my own life, away from my evil kind.’

‘Evil?’ Nicolai tilted his head.

‘Yes,’ said Serrin. He spoke with the certainty of a child explaining an obvious truth; the sky is blue, fire is hot, Hornets are evil. He looked away, glared at an innocent bush. ‘You have not yet seen the depths of their cruelty. They revel in torment and torture, and care for nothing but growing their own power, gaining a higher station. They are evil!’ he hissed the final word, and jabbed a finger at Nicolai as though daring him to argue.

Nicolai shrugged. ‘You’ll hear no argument from me. Hornets have a black reputation, and my recent interactions with them leave me no reason to think it is untrue.’

Serrin exhaled, tense muscle relaxing, relief emanating from his Soul. He nodded. ‘I know, now, that other species are not like my own.’ His Soul glowed with a strange joy. ‘For many years I thought I was alone. A mutant, an oddity, because I was the only one among them who cared about more than myself.’

‘What changed?’ Nicolai prompted, sensing the required words. He also got moving, and put his helmet back on. Serrin was drawn along with him.

‘A few months ago the first humans were captured. I managed to see them, talk with them. It wasn’t long before I realised they were nothing like my kind. They were like me!’ Serrin spoke this with exultation, but an instant after he seemed to deflate, steps slowing, shoulders slumping. Nicolai, a little impatient, slowed his steps to match.

‘And then…’ muttered Serrin. He shook his head. ‘My sister. Thryss. She raised me, since I first got my wings. Actually, back then I remember thinking she was different, that she might be like me. There were times when she was kind to me. But, ever since I gained my Sting, ever since I first refused to kill for my mother, she changed. As cruel and vicious as any of them, always trying to make me kill, always beating me and threatening me, telling me I must do what mother says.’ He swallowed, fell silent in the manner of one lost in bitter memories.

Nicolai was partly listening to the words tumbling out of Serrin and attempting to feel the sympathy the Mask assured him he ought to be feeling, and partly wondering at the insanity of the Hornet being willing to share so much with someone he’d literally just met.

Though, considering what Serrin was saying, he supposed it was more due to his race, than due to Serrin being innately willing to divulge anything to anyone. Serrin had developed the errant belief that all humans were “nothing like his kind” and thus had instantly extended the same trust he’d felt for those prisoner humans, who likely had been the first people he’d met who he felt he could be honest with in years, to Nicolai.

 ‘I suppose I still thought something of who I’d once seen in her might still remain. A foolish hope. She learned of my friendship with the humans, used them as another tool. They tried to trick me into killing them, but I realised. Then my mother killed them. Of course she did. She tried to—‘ The ripples cut off into a snarl, and his steps sped up. ‘But now I have you. Together, we can free all the prisoners, get them away from her!’

Nicolai made a vague sound. Rescuing prisoners from a Hornet Hive did not sound like an easy thing to do.

‘And together, we’ll defeat the poison she put in you,’ muttered Serrin feverishly. ‘I won’t let her kill you, too, Nicolai.’ He stared up, gaze boring into Nicolai’s own. ‘I won’t lose another friend.’

‘I… appreciate that…’ said Nicolai tentatively, unsure precisely how to respond to this. Where all the other Hornets were easy for him to deal with—just a matter of out-manoeuvring them—Serrin was different. The instant extension of trust and friendship, the total lack of guile, practically inviting being used. Strangely disarming.

‘How old are you?’ he asked. The question had been digging at him for some time.

‘Nineteen,’ replied Serrin promptly, and Nicolai was very glad for the helmet to conceal his expression. Suddenly so much made sense. ‘What about you?’

‘How old do you think I am?’ he asked instead, curious as to how he came across.

Serrin pondered. ‘You struggle to control your anger, and I was told that difficulty controlling emotions is a trait of the young. But my mother was the one who told me that, and she also struggles to control her anger, so I’m uncertain if it’s correct. From when we fought, I could tell you were inexperienced in the style of combat we engaged in… I expected to win easily, once I realised that, but you are so tricky. You must be very experienced at many kinds of combat.’ While speaking, Serrin had grown increasingly thoughtful, seeming to enjoy the guessing game. He glanced at Nicolai as though hoping for a hint, and when he didn’t receive one listed a few more points. ‘You have a home of your own. You understand Hornets, and our language. Based on all this, I would think you old. But your face did not have the deep lines of an old human. I am going to guess: middle aged.’

‘Good guess.’ While Serrin straightened, pleased by the vague but affirming answer, Nicolai was considering the Hornet’s story. Based on what Serrin had said, Thryss must have been the one originally tasked with bending Serrin to the Queen’s will, a job now given to him. It was time to see what else he could learn.

He asked more questions, and received answers.

‘Her deepest desire is to remove the Binding on her forehead,’ Serrin explained. ‘It ties her to the Empress. That is why she needs you. And… me.’

‘Why you?’ Nicolai asked.

‘I have a… quirk,’ Serrin admitted. ‘Something about me makes it so I don’t have to obey the Highspawn. I don’t have to answer their questions.’

Nicolai nodded. This was the first time he’d seen the Hornets at all cagey about something. He didn’t push further; no sense damaging this fragile new bond. Whatever the truth was, it would come out in time. All that mattered was that he was gaining the leverage he needed.

The Binding was clearly the Queen’s greatest vulnerability. If he played his cards right, he could demand much in exchange for helping her; his Blade, certainly, but perhaps far more. Resources. Power. Control. All that would require caution and knowledge. He needed to understand exactly how the Binding worked, and how it could be removed.

With Serrin, this disloyal son, he already held a crucial piece of the puzzle. He needed to continue learning as much as he could about all the major players in the Hive.

By the time they returned, he intended to have pumped Serrin for every piece of information he could think of.