Jeffrey realized the conversation was going nowhere, and they were wasting time. He turned away, his eyes lighting on something outside the window.
“What is that?” he breathed, entranced. A thousand willowy creatures floated outside the window, each flashing soft lights over their skin. They blinked in patterns, turning from blue to purple to green and back again.
“Jellies,” Kat said from beside him. “They gather in clusters to talk. To ward off enemies. To exchange information. To breed.”
“They’re amazing.” Jeffrey had never seen anything so picaresque in his life. The jellies floated there, seeming so calm, blinking at one another.
“They’re considered blessed on our world. We claim one species of giant jelly as our probable ancestor.
Jeffrey considered her words. They made sense, when one factored in the color-changing Zantharian skin and their bioelectrical abilities.
Still, no Zantharian he’d met yet had radiated the sense of peace these creatures did. He wished he could stare at them for hours.
Instead, duty called.
“Come, Lieutenant,” he said at last. “Lead the way.”
They didn’t talk as they headed toward the heavily-guarded chamber holding the Hareema prisoner. It took several minutes for them to be allowed access, and Jeffrey had to submit to another zapping to prove his human status. Finally, they entered the cell where the shapeshifter was housed.
It was in the center of the room, in a large cube that seemed to be made of glowing walls of energy.
“We’re running a constant current between those four posts,” the Zantharian scientist in charge confirmed. “So far, it hasn’t been able to break through yet.”
In the middle of the force field walls stood a towering red jelly. It seemed so innocuous, so unable to do the damage attributed to its race.
All you need to take out a six-foot cube of jelly is a spoon, Jeffrey thought to himself.
“How are you keeping it in its basic form?” Kat asked the scientist.
“We zap it any time it tries to change. The section of floor beneath it has been electrified. If it tries to alter its shape, we hit it with enough current to destabilize the form and force it back to its original shape.”
Kat nodded, but Jeffrey had his doubts. “We need to interrogate the creature, and I’m not even sure if it can talk in this form. I mean, does a block of jelly have a vocal tract?”
The scientist looked amused. “We’re not sure.”
“Then hold off zapping it if it tries to shift, just while we’re talking with it. If it can’t get through the electric walls, then there won’t be any harm done.”
The scientist half-heartedly agreed, and Jeffrey approached the electric cell warily. “I’d like to ask you some questions.”
He watched and waited. At first, there was no reaction, and Jeffrey was afraid that the creature wouldn’t talk. Then its body began to vibrate and shift. One moment he was standing in front of a red blob and the next, it was like standing in front of a mirror.
The Hareema prisoner had decided to imitate his own form. The only difference was the eyes. They were a deep red, with no pupil. Just a field of red that looked even more sinister for being in his own face.
A chill ran down Jeffrey’s spine. It was unnerving, staring at oneself. He didn’t have the luxury of being freaked out, unfortunately. There was no more time to waste.
“You were on my ship. How many other members of my crew are Hareema?”
The creature stared back at him, a sinister smile on its face. “Why should I tell you?” it rasped after a moment.
“Perhaps we can negotiate a peaceful settlement to hostilities,” Jeffrey suggested. “We could open up a dialogue. I’d be happy to mediate. And as a show of good faith, you could tell us how many of your species are on theEarhart.”
The creature that looked like him chuckled. “We have no interest in a dialogue with the Zantharian, or you pitiful humans. Why talk, when we’ll soon have control of both planets?”
“You sound very sure of yourself,” Kat said, walking up to stand next to Jeffrey. “And yet, now that we know how to hold you, what makes you think you’ll control anything?”
“We are everywhere,” it said, its tone threatening. “It’s too late for you to do anything about it.”
Kat turned to him. “It’s never going to talk. We should go.”
