Ruins (Pathfinder 2)

“I think it’s Loaf, or partly Loaf, and the facemask decided to allow it,” said Rigg. “Besides, from what you said about how your future self looked, I think it’s pretty certain Loaf still has some kind of control.”

“What makes you think that?” asked Umbo.

“Because you weren’t dead,” said Rigg. “If it was just the facemask, using Loaf’s body, using a soldier’s reflexes, and you posed a threat, he’d just have killed you. But he didn’t. He only stopped you.”

“And you think that means Loaf can still control something?”

“The facemask soldiers in the battle we saw—”

“I didn’t see anything,” said Umbo. “I was the anchor, remember?”

“Those were the original facemasks, completely in charge of their human hosts. They didn’t hesitate to kill the uncontaminated humans. But Loaf hasn’t tried to kill me.”

“What does that prove?”

“What Loaf has is a kind of facemask Vadesh has been breeding for thousands of years, to make it compatible with humans. If Vadesh didn’t screw it up, then Loaf is still in there. He might eventually get control. Or at least share control. Vadesh never had a human to try it on. So we won’t know until we see what Loaf does. But he came with me. He’s doing what I ask.”

“And you made Vadesh walk.”

“I know, it was childish of me. He’s a machine, it’s not going to bother him. But it made me feel better.”

“Breaking him into small pieces would make me feel better.”

“He’s indestructible. Plus if he dies, there are several replacements in there, with all his memories and personality already in them, ready to take over if anything damages this one.”

“So we can’t do anything to help Loaf, and we can’t do anything to hurt Vadesh.”

“Oh, there’s one way to hurt him,” said Rigg. “We could leave this wallfold, so he can’t see how his experiment turned out.”

“I suppose that’s the best we can do.”

“All the expendables talk to each other, and to the starships,” said Rigg. “So I suppose he’ll find out what happens one way or another.”

“I really liked your father,” said Umbo. “And Vadesh looks and sounds exactly like him, but he’s vile. He feels different. He did right from the start.”

“Identical machines,” said Rigg. “But I feel the same way. Maybe being without human company for ten thousand years changed Vadesh.”

“Or maybe he was already different, and that’s why all the humans in his wallfold died, leaving him without any.”

“I think you’re right,” said Rigg. “Where are Param and Olivenko?”

“Upstairs. Are we going to wait for him?”

“Vadesh? No. He probably knows another way and when we go up the stairs he’ll already be waiting.” Rigg turned to Loaf, who was just standing there, the facemask inert on his head, its tendrils wrapped around his neck, going into his nose, down under his clothing, one of them penetrating the spot just above the collarbone so that it was reaching into his flesh. “Will you come upstairs with us, Loaf?”

No response. Nothing.

Rigg turned his back on Loaf and started for the stairs. Umbo started with him, but he had to stop and see if his friend was going to follow.

Loaf took a staggering step forward, then balanced himself and walked slowly after Rigg. He showed no sign that he knew Umbo was there. That was hard to bear, but also maybe a good thing—at least Loaf wasn’t trying to attack him. There would be no broken arm or torn ear.

On impulse, Umbo fell in beside Loaf and walked along with him. Loaf showed no aversion to this. So as they climbed the stairs, Umbo slipped his fingers into Loaf’s large, man-sized hand and gripped him.

Ever so faintly, ever so gently, he felt Loaf’s grip tight

en in response. A hint of a sign that Loaf was still in there. Loaf knew him. That was enough for Umbo. Enough for now, anyway.

Because if he ever became sure that Loaf was utterly gone, that his body was now completely the property of the monster implanted on his head, Umbo would find a way to kill him. If Loaf couldn’t have his own life, this creature wasn’t going to have it, either.