Survive (4)
Wei of the Ganymede Colony was half-dead with misery over the wretched situation he found himself in.
When he had first joined the project, he'd been over the moon to learn that his superior was a Noble Capital from Earth. A Noble Capital — the ruling class of Mega Corp — and an Earth native besides, was practically royalty. If he could forge a connection with one of them, the Mars relocation he'd only ever dreamed of might become reality.
He had boarded the ship carrying those very expectations, but it didn't take long for Wei's dreams to shatter.
That raving lunatic of a woman. Today was supposed to be a day off.
Wei kept wiping the sweat trickling down his half-balding head as he stole glances at the young, capable superior standing beside him.
Her name was Kisaragi Yujin. She was Wei's superior, a Noble Capital belonging to the Eugene family — one of the five great houses that ruled Earth.
Unlike usual, she was dressed in civilian clothes, and cradled a cat in her arms.
Dammit. Why does a cat need a walk?
Wei cursed himself for having gone to the garden on a whim, just to get a bit of fresh air. Kisaragi, up until the moment they arrived at the laboratory, brought up a remark she'd already made dozens of times before.
"Exactly when is Sample 26 going to produce results?"
"There is clearly a reaction at present. If you could grant us just a little more time…"
"Time is credits. If we don't achieve results worth reporting to the company before we reach our destination, the company may reconsider your 'Employment.'"
"Kgh?! N-not that, please, anything but—!"
At the word "Employment" leaving her mouth, cold sweat poured from Wei's head like a waterfall. As a senior researcher of Mega Corp, he knew exactly what "Employment" meant.
His eyes flicked briefly toward the brain floating in its vat. It felt as if his predecessor were beckoning him to come over this way too.
"Senior Researcher — no, Wei."
"Y-yes?"
Yujin, who had been firing words with a cold expression, suddenly changed her demeanor and began consoling him in a gentle voice.
"I have no wish for such an outcome either. I have expectations of you, Senior Researcher. If you can extract 'useful results' from Sample 26, a promotion to chief researcher is hardly a fantasy, is it?"
"R-really?"
"Yes. At minimum, chief researcher — and if things go well, you might even forge connections on the Mars side. They have a keen interest in this project."
At those words, Wei's eyes lit up.
He resolved to tell her about a method he had long contemplated but never actually attempted.
"Th-there is one method left, but…"
"Which is?"
"Administering psionium."
"Psionium? You mean that drug manufactured by the Star Union?"
"That's correct."
Kisaragi Yujin stroked the cat's head in silence. The cat purred, apparently pleased by its owner's affectionate hand.
"Psionium has an awakening effect that—"
"I'm aware of what it does. I've run related projects before. Psionium, hm. That's a compound we haven't tried yet."
"There are a few others besides, actually."
"Everything with a similar composition has already been tried. Psionium is all that remains."
Kisaragi's gaze turned toward Sample 26's tube. It was not the soft look she'd worn while petting the cat. The way she regarded the experimental subject resembled nothing so much as a machine sorting products on a factory line.
"Very well. Administer it now."
"What? But, ah, if it doesn't absorb the neutralizing agent afterward, its life functions will be compromised—"
"Then we'd have to wait until tomorrow, wouldn't we. We don't have that kind of time."
No time. The words applied to more than Wei alone.
As head of the project, she too would have to answer for its failure. She stood on a stratum far above Wei, and a stain on her career would carry that much greater a consequence.
Besides, she had never once failed at anything in her life. With her first failure looming before her, impatience was only natural.
"As you're aware, results should already have been delivered."
"W-well, yes, but—"
"By now we should be finalizing the report for presentation, yet we still haven't drawn a meaningful response from the subject. I trust you understand how serious this situation is."
Her words were facts, and Wei had no rebuttal.
"…Understood. I'll administer it at once."
Wei retrieved a violet test tube from the refrigerator.
"I'll begin with 0.01 milligrams."
He connected the tube to a hose and manipulated the terminal, and a small portion of the drug was injected into the experimental tank.
The Bubble Amoeba showed no reaction. The graph on the terminal screen displayed no particular change either.
Wei wiped away the rain of sweat and pressed the terminal's button again.
"Administering 0.05 milligrams."
This time, there was a reaction. The Bubble Amoeba shuddered convulsively, as if in pain.
Having inflicted pain on the subject and seen the reaction he'd hoped for, Wei made no attempt to hide the delight spreading across his face. Interest flickered to life in Kisaragi's eyes as well as she watched the specimen.
"Next, 0.07 milli—"
"Wait. Since it's reacting, we can afford to increase the dose."
"Pardon?"
"Administer all of it."
"B-but that's a bit—"
"Step aside."
When Wei hesitated, Kisaragi shoved him out of the way and pressed the administration button herself.
The liquid drained from the tube in its entirety, flowing into the experimental tank.
Before long, the Bubble Amoeba's body ballooned outward, as though someone had forced air into it. Light flickered madly across its form, and its skin, unable to contain the swelling body, split and tore. Anyone could see the Bubble Amoeba was being wracked by extreme agony — but not a single person present cared about that in the slightest.
Come on! Just a little more!
Wei clenched his fists as he watched the graph on the terminal screen climb past the ceiling without limit.
About five minutes passed, perhaps.
Then the graph broke sharply and slammed into the floor. Wei felt as though the shape of that plunging line were a perfect portrait of his own future.
Sample 26, inside the tank, no longer glowed pink. Bleached bone-white as if someone had forcibly stripped the color from it, it did not so much as twitch.
"Wake it up."
"Yes, ma'am."
Unlike the despairing Wei, not a trace of emotion could be heard in Kisaragi's voice. With a sinking heart, Wei pressed the electric shock button.
Froth rose inside the tank, and the Bubble Amoeba jerked. It wriggled faintly, but its color was still stark white — it was barely more than a thing that breathed.
"Interesting results. Continue your attempts with Sample 26."
"Is that… acceptable?"
"Try again, and report to me if you obtain a meaningful result."
Like a prisoner spared from a death sentence, Wei's face brightened. Kisaragi, who with a single sentence had sent a man bouncing between heaven and hell, suddenly felt a gaze upon her and turned toward the ventilation duct.
That feeling of being watched again.
Beyond the vent, there was nothing to be seen.
The experiment I had just witnessed held meaning for me as well.
The psionium they had injected into Sample 26 was a drug I knew intimately.
An awakening agent that temporarily unlocks unreleased racial traits.
In the game, consuming psionium reduced your maximum health, but in exchange it unsealed locked racial traits, letting you use them for a limited time.
For example, if I consumed psionium, I could briefly use abilities unavailable to me in the Hatchling stage — traits like Acid Blood or Reinforced Exoskeleton, which I would normally only acquire upon evolving into a Juvenile.
Used at the right moment, it was a tremendously powerful item, but presumably because it was lore-wise a drug, each use shortened its duration more than the last. That was why it was mostly an early-to-mid game item rather than a late-game one.
Could the Bubble Amoeba have some trait I don't know about?
I was fairly sure I'd devoured thousands of them before, and I'd never seen a hidden trait. Nothing of the sort had ever come up in the community either, so perhaps Sample 26 was simply an unusual individual — or perhaps reality, unlike the game, held a few differences.
Either way, learning that psionium exists on this ship is a genuine gain.
It would prove useful if things ever escalated into open warfare with the humans aboard.
Back in my nest, I settled my body down again. And the moment comfort returned, the things I had been deliberately avoiding thinking about came swimming back into my head.
That creature begged me for help.
Flooded with massive doses of psionium, Sample 26 had cried out to me for salvation. The scream it had let out was still vivid in my memory.
It had pleaded for them to stop because it hurt, begged them to spare its life — but the researchers never registered that wavelength. And even if they had known it was suffering, they wouldn't have stopped.
The unhappy truth was that the horrific torture wasn't over. The Mega Corp researchers would repeat the psionium experiments until the Bubble Amoeba could no longer endure and died.
I knew full well that nothing but darkness awaited it. The only reason I had spared it was my judgment that a Bubble Amoeba's genetic essence was worthless — otherwise it, too, would have been on my list of prey.
So why did a feeling of displeasure keep seeping up from some corner of my heart?
Why did the echo of that creature's wailing still reverberate inside my skull, even now?
Disgusting. I really don't like this.
Judging by this, it seemed I wasn't yet a complete "honorary Amorph." I wanted nothing more than to sprint over there right now and tear them limb from limb.
Originally I'd planned to hunt with a little more patience, but I had changed my mind. If asked whether this was purely an emotional decision — half of it was.
Even as anger burned through me, part of me remained utterly cold. I had reached this judgment because I believed there was solid grounds for targeting her. Among today's spoils, besides the psionium itself, there was useful information concerning Kisaragi Yujin as well.
The cat she carries with her.
Thanks to my Super Sense, I knew exactly how dearly she treasured that cat.
Through my auxiliary organs — tracking her heartbeat, her breathing, the minute movements of her upper body as she held the animal — I could easily deduce that she harbored no small attachment to it. It wasn't hard to imagine how a woman like that would react if the cat died.
She'd leave herself wide open.
Obviously, the cat received no security detail of its own. Apart from when its owner called for it, it was usually alone. The people aboard this ship had not the faintest idea how devastating the death of a beloved cat would be to Kisaragi Yujin.
In other words, the core of my plan was this: use the cat as bait to lure in my prey.
Kisaragi Yujin. Within days, you will die.
There in the darkness, I passed sentence of death upon her.