As related by Prince Ace del Eden’d, Number One
There was a reason it took me so long to complete my assignment. It’s not that the fish weren’t biting – it’s that they were a rather large school of piranhacuda which had pretty much eaten everything else in the stream. We were using the lures we had found in the cabin; unfortunately, piranhacudas only respond to live bait. Once I’d gotten a nibble, I basically had to club the thing into unconsciousness. A piranhacuda in blood frenzy is no mean opponent. Fortunately, any body parts I’d lost regenerated once I made the achievement.
Piranhacuda is actually a pretty tasty fish, and there was something uniquely satisfying about eating it. I know, I know – revenge is petty.
After we ate, we sat around the campfire, strategizing. Our best bet for defeating the mecha was to pick up on Balin’s suggestion – it was low on energy. We just had to exhaust it.
« But if it’s out of energy, what good will it be to us? » asks Wynne.
« As soon as the quest goal is achieved, the recognized emanations will probably be able to recharge it. That’s my guess. »
« We can all help, » says Ari. « We just have to make sure that the one we want to pilot the thing is the one who makes it drop. »
« Rand should be the pilot, » says Patrick. « He’s really versatile. Look at the excellent work he did when he first emanated. »
« I’m thinking Wynne. »
« What? » asks Wynne. « I was figuring that #63 “Win at backgammon while drinking cappuccino,” would be my achievement. »
« Think about what Driscoll said, » Rand injects. « Winning a board game is too easy for you. But I see why Ace thinks you ought to fly the mecha – none of us has any particular skill at marksmanship, but once the pleroma recognizes you, you’ll have luck on your side. »
« I don’t think I could kill anyone, » says Wynne.
« I couldn’t either, » says Rand.
« Maybe Patrick should do it, » says Ari.
« Why me? » Patrick asks, genuinely baffled.
I glare at Ari, shaking my head. « It doesn’t work that way. Patrick isn’t a warrior. He can’t consciously kill something any more than I can. »
« Well, this sucks, » says Wynne.
« New plan. If Wynne captures the mecha, he can deliver it to Balin. Balin has already agreed to take over Cillian’s role as our defender. Now all we have to do is figure out where the mecha has gone, or how to somehow lure it to us. Any ideas? »
“Cüinn Cleary, Skarsian Minister of Science. 8th to emanate, 36 in the color scale, resonates to 151. 1.703 meters tall, cock size 15.44 cm when erect, apparent age 28. Theoretical physicist, Director of Research, RR-2 Labs. Totem is Coffea arabica, the coffee bush, fixed star is Dschubba, the forehead. Esoteric symbol is the Etruscan letter 
. Dessert is javajuice tiramisu with nau’gsh puree. Function is administrative initiation, proto-conscious tendency is intellect, designated Reason. Blazon is bendy or and javamelon, a boson, proper.”
Immediately, all the recognized ones pile into his branch. « What did you do? » Balin demands.
« I didn’t do anything! » Cüinn protests. « I was just sitting here. »
Inspection proves him right. He was at a picnic table in the Oktoberfest tent, having a bratwurst with wakame relish on Ailann’s rather extensive tab. Beat and Harsh were two tables over, and they didn’t notice anything extraordinary either.
« We’re going to have to think about that one, » muses Ross. « Anyway, welcome back. »
« Now that you’re here, maybe you can help. We need to find the mecha. »
« Oh, that’s easy, » says Cüinn. « Something that size is bound to leave a large energy footprint. If only I had a scanner, I could probably find it. »
« You’re not likely to find a scanner in Squirrelworld, » says Ari.
« I beg to differ, » says Lugh. « A park of that nature uses very sophisticated technology for those attractions. There has to be a maintenance building. They’ll have all sorts of scanners. »
« All right, » says Cüinn. « I’ll get all available hands to search the park. Hopefully, we won’t get assaulted by Sweetsweet Sugah Bunneh again. »
« If the bitch messes with me, I’ll gut her, » Callum mutters.
But the search proceeds without incident. About half an hour later, Cüinn reports to us that the Robot of Doom is moving northeast, towards Ophion. Fortunately, Chase returns with the hovercar.
« Sorry it took so long for me to get here, » says Chase. « It actually isn’t much like flying a spaceship. »
« Can you fly the mecha? » asks Wynne.
« I’d trust your luck more than my ability, » says Chase. « In here, I can’t rely so much on my senses. »
The pleroma is inconsistent. Sometimes it sees fit to play according to the laws of the universe – and sometimes it doesn’t.
We get into the car. We only go a few kilometers down the road before Ari says, « I smell an explosive. »
I see it, sitting in the middle of the road. I jerk the car to the side swiftly enough to destabilize it. Inertial dampening force-bubbles activate automatically as the right door of the car scrapes the rocks. Then the car is rocked by the force of the blast. Ari throws himself over Wynne and Patrick, then bellows in pain. That explosive was set by one of the invaders.
We were warned, and we were careless. Stupid of us. But none of us are combat specialists.
Chase and Wynne attend to Ari while the rest of us jump out of the car, scanning for the attacker. « There! » I shout, pointing to an outcropping above us.
Patrick and Rand follow me, but they aren’t nearly as fast, and they get winded. I’m probably going to have to deal with the attacker on my own. I’m not going to kill him. Not unless I know for sure that he’ll survive it in the physical universe.
I can feel in my branch that Ari’s hurt, but it isn’t immediately incapacitating. He’s in a lot of pain, though. I’m concerned, I’m angry, but I still can’t feel the desire for revenge which seems to be consuming some of us. Maybe it’s because Ari and I aren’t that close. What would I do if it were Wynne?
I can’t even imagine. It’s pointless to try, especially since I need to focus.
The attacker is retreating back onto the rocks. The shortest path to victory is to climb that enormous oak tree and get the drop on him from above. The hardest part about the whole thing is to incapacitate him without killing him. I don’t want to break his neck by accident.
I take him by surprise, but his reflexes are good. He swings, and I take a punch to the stomach. I strike back, and only connect with his jaw by the virtue of my superior speed. There’s a sudden snap, and for a terrible moment, I’m afraid that I’ve killed him. But no, he’s just unconscious. I’ve taken a prisoner.
My hand hurts.
Patrick has caught up with me. It turns out that he’s much more fit than he looks, having struggled all that time on Eirelantra with so little nul-energy to draw upon. We carry the unconscious man down to the car. Rand has fetched some fishing line to use as a restraint.
« It’ll be painful for him if he struggles, » says Rand. « That’s unavoidable. We don’t have any other rope. »
He struggles. The minute he wakes up he is thrashing, gnashing his teeth, jerking his arms and legs until his wrists bleed and I’m afraid he’ll sever a vein. Honestly, he doesn’t look sane. Then he goes limp. Suddenly, he looks up, startled.
« It’s gone, » he gasps. « That thing in my head is gone. »
« Was it a SongLuminant? » Rand asks.
« What were you trying to accomplish? » adds Patrick.
« You’re not…you’re not even real, » the former assassin says confusedly. Then he looks directly at me. « And you, what are you? »
I feel his mind reaching for mine. « That’s not a good idea. »
It’s too late. He pokes though my human mind too easily, sucked into the whirling spark of nul-energy which is the true essence of my existence. A spark spinning in the company of dozens of other sparks, creating a vortex encompassed by a grove of trees, a vacuum filled by the combined dreams of animals and plants.
The telepath screams horribly, then vanishes.
Rand sighs, picking up the fishing line from the ground. « The one that got away, » he mutters.