James Gardner: Radiant

"Not amusing but important," I said. "If you’re ready to listen."

Li had gone back to rubbing his temples. He didn’t speak — didn’t even glance in my direction. I decided this was as attentive as he’d allow himself to be… so I began to tell the tale.

"You can see what the Balrog looks like." I nodded toward the vidscreen. The streets and buildings of Zoonau were completely lost under crimson fuzz. Cashlings, still untouched, either stood afraid to move or wandered in a daze. The Balrog slipped silently out from under the feet of the wanderers, then slid back after they’d passed, obliterating their footprints with spores of glowing red. The glow was brighter now, like the embers of a fire just before it’s fanned into a blaze.

"When the Balrog isn’t glowing or overwhelming a city," I said, "it looks like nothing special. A patch of colored moss. Most humans would pass it without thinking… which is what a woman named Kaisho Namida did. Thirty years ago, she was an Explorer on a survey of some unnamed planet, and she stepped on a bit of nondescript red moss. No human had ever encountered the Balrog before, so Kaisho didn’t know what it was. She found out soon enough. The instant her foot came down, the Balrog ripped through Kaisho’s boot like paper and injected spores into her flesh."

Cohen, Li, and Ubatu looked toward the vidscreen. In Zoonau, moss was still dodging out of the Cashlings’ way. "As you can see," I said, "the Balrog is mobile. Very mobile. We think it can teleport across the galaxy in seconds. If it didn’t want to be stepped on, it could easily have got out of Kaisho’s way. But it didn’t. It waited for her to step down, then it took her like lightning — sending spores through her bloodstream, her nervous system, every tissue in her body."

Ubatu’s face was keen. "You say it took her. Like a parasitic infestation?"

"Yes. The spores invaded all her major organs."

"Did she die?"

"No. She felt almost nothing — just a pain in her foot where the spores had entered. Her partner rushed her to medical treatment, and that’s when the doctors found bits of Balrog throughout her body. They considered chemotherapy to see if they could kill the spores without killing Kaisho… but before they could start treatment, the Balrog took possession of Kaisho’s mouth and said the magic words."

"What magic words?" Li asked.

"Greetings," I recited, "I am a sentient citizen of the League of Peoples. I beg your Hospitality."

Cohen gave a little chuckle. "This parasite waltzed into a woman’s body like cancer, then asked to be treated nicely? That’s chutzpah."

"True," I said. "But the Balrog had done nothing to violate League of Peoples’ law. It hadn’t killed anyone. Kaisho was still in excellent health. On the other hand, if the doctors tried to kill the spores inside her body, maybe the doctors would be guilty of killing sentient creatures."

"Why?" Li asked. "Killing a few spores in a hive mind doesn’t hurt the organism as a whole. Last night I served champagne for dinner — killed a few cells in people’s brains and livers — but the League didn’t come after me for murder."

"The League cares a lot about motive," I said. "Presumably, you served that champagne to be hospitable — not to commit deliberate homicide on cells you thought were sentient beings. But if the doctors had injected Kaisho with chemicals intentionally designed to kill spores they knew to be sentient…" I shrugged. "You can never tell with the League. Common sense may say one thing, but you can’t help wondering if the League thinks the opposite. And where will they draw the line? If a doctor is declared nonsentient for killing Balrog spores, will the League blame the hospital for not preventing the crime? Will they blame the navy for improper supervision of the hospital? Will they blame the entire Technocracy?"

"Oy," said Cohen. "These things always make my head hurt."

Li growled and continued to massage his temples.

"In the end," I said, "no one was willing to risk removing the Balrog — especially since Kaisho seemed unharmed. They sent her to a navy rehab center to monitor her condition, and nobody ever again suggested killing the spores."

"So that’s it?" Ubatu asked. "Nothing happened?" She didn’t bother to hide her disappointment.

Without answering, I walked to a tiny control console stuffed into the bridge’s back corner. The console saw little use on Pistachio — it was the station from which we Explorers would operate reconnaissance probes if we ever got a planet-down mission. Once a week in the middle of the night, Tut and I used the station to run drills and diagnostics; otherwise, the equipment gathered dust.

I sat down to search through some files. When I found the photograph I wanted, I displayed it on the vidscreen, replacing the footage from Zoonau. "This," I said, "is Kaisho Namida today."

The picture showed a woman in a wheelchair. Her face was hidden behind long salt-and-pepper strands of hair; these days, she combed her hair forward to conceal her features. But I doubted if many people ever lifted their gaze as high as her head. They’d be too busy staring at the continuous bed of glowing red moss that reached from her toes, up her legs to her pelvis, and on as high as her navel.

Though it couldn’t be seen in the photo, I knew the moss wasn’t just an outer coating. Her legs had no flesh left, no blood, no bone — they were solid moss through and through, still shaped like the limbs they’d once been, but entirely nonhuman.

No one knew what remained of Kaisho’s lower abdomen. Three years after her "accident," she’d checked out of rehab, got discharged from the navy, and refused further medical exams. Now, with the moss grown above her waist, did she still have intestines and reproductive organs somewhere beneath? Or was there just moss, a thick undifferentiated wad of it from belly to spine?

Ubatu and Li leaned forward. I’d finally caught their full attention.

"Is it eating her?" Li asked.

"Not precisely," I said. "The spores get most of their energy from photosynthesis, so they aren’t consuming her for simple sustenance. They are breaking down her tissues and using the component chemicals to build new spores."

Li was now holding his stomach instead of his head. "Why the hell doesn’t the League do something? This Balrog is devouring a sentient woman."

"But it’s not killing her. Kaisho is still very much alive. And given the speed at which she’s being consumed, she’ll live a full human life span before the moss finishes her off. Possibly longer. The Balrog isn’t just absorbing her, it’s changing her. The spores keep her arteries free of plaque; and her heart is as strong as a teenager’s, even though she’s now…" I looked at a data display on my console. "She’s now one hundred and sixteen years old."

"Oy." Captain Cohen was also leaning forward in his chair, staring at the moss-laden woman. "So what does poor Kaisho think about this? Me, I’d cut off my legs as soon as I saw moss growing."

"That wouldn’t have helped," I said. "The moss had permeated her internal organs long before it showed outside. Amputate the visible spores, and there’d still be plenty in her heart, her lungs, her bloodstream — everywhere. As for Kaisho’s opinion of what’s happening to her…" I tried to speak without inflection. "She’s thrilled to have been chosen as the Balrog’s host. It’s transforming her into something glorious. She admits that her primitive brain sometimes panics at the thought of being cannibalized, but her higher mental functions soon reassert themselves, and she recognizes the privilege she’s been given. Kaisho is deeply, joyously, in awe of the Balrog and loves it without reserve."