Stars Gods Wolves Dan Kirshtein (short novels to read txt) 📖

mean—” When he finally landed on a single thought, a tiny island of a conclusion, upon which the train of thought came crashing down, he blinked in disbelief. “No, that’s not poss—” He stopped himself. “Not proba—” He froze once more. “Well, it’s not fucking likely.” He stood up, panicked. His tablet fell from his lap before Josie grabbed it and secured it on the table. He pointed to her several times before giving her an order. “Wake everyone up.”

“What?”

“Wake them up right now!”

After much argument and fuss, everyone was standing in the laboratory, red-eyed and confused, all in pajamas save for Ox, who wore only his loincloth. The rescued inhabitants of Research Station Three, like its counterparts, consisted of two doctors and an assistant. Doctor Aldo, Doctor Wayland, and [the somehow forgettable, despite there only being two other people in the building they all shared for some time] Reggie.

They weren’t used to whatever shenanigans occurred in this station, but Doctor Aldo had made it clear to Josie that if this sort of behavior continued, he would be heading back to his old building. Josie laughed and wished him luck before she ran to wake the others.

Martin didn’t wait for everyone, and he began speaking once Gally showed up. She always seemed to have a stern, business-like attitude; it was like a switch she could turn on at any moment. The doctor met eyes with her before he started. “I don’t know how to say this. And I don’t want it to sound like I’m bragging.” He looked around as others slowly meandered in; it was like teaching a college course. “But, as some of you know, we did some tests on this—thing.” He looked down at the carcass, thinking someone should probably name it. “And its stomach contents are—” he paused, trying to think of a word, “—indiscriminate.”

Nitro furrowed an eyebrow. “The fuck does that mean?”

Doctor Howlette leaned in and quietly tried to explain the literal definition of the word.

“No!” Insulted, the captain interrupted the doctor’s explanation by slapping him on the arm. “I meant what did he mean by—”

Martin interrupted to clarify, lifting his hands to ease the tension. “I mean they eat everything.” There was some silence. The scientists, though still fascinated with the material, were hearing old news, and their faces reflected that. “That’s why we couldn’t find Station Four; they ate it.” He pointed in the direction of the former station. Suddenly realizing the lack of enthusiasm or interest in the crowd, Martin’s pointing arm dropped. He’d given a lot of lectures in his day, talked about a lot of hypotheses that weren’t always sound. But this one, he surmised as he looked in the eyes of his audience, would make him sound mad. Once the thought occurred to him, he humbled himself, cleared his throat; his insistent and urgent face settled to embarrassment.

The others murmured at this thought. Even Ox looked concerned. But Boomer shrugged. “I don’t get it,” he said. “What’s so bad about that?”

Lee fielded this question, rubbing an eye with a fist. “The last known species with an indiscriminate diet was the Anaphy,” he stated. The demolition expert’s hands still stuck out, palms up, clear that he didn’t understand the implication. Lee continued, risking his own slap on the arm. “Alpha Six?”

Boomer pondered for a moment. “Those locust fuckers?”

Ox nodded with half-closed eyes, trying to be patient. “They were the dominant species on Alpha Six for some time.”

“Yeah, that happens when you eat literally everything,” Lee grumbled.

Ox nodded and continued, as if confirming rumors he’d heard. “They started eating the planet itself.”

Lee interjected once more. “It threw off the gravitational pull, and a few moons fell out of orbit.”

Martin nodded, annoyed that he’d almost lost his train of thought. He waved his hand in a circular motion and looked at the ceiling. “Yeah, the devastation was incalculable, and the ecosystem suffered a great deal. That’s the point I’m getting at.” He pointed at Ox, hoping the interruptions were over. “The Anaphy were tiny. Alpha Six took decades, maybe centuries for all anyone knows.” He gestured toward the slab. “The creatures seem to consume at a much higher rate.”

Mitch raised his hand, realizing nothing contained in the current lecture was particularly good or new news. “So, how would it sound like you’re bragging?” he asked, hesitantly.

Martin looked up, finally getting to the point. “Because—and I sincerely hope I’m wrong here—I think these things are a result of the Carbonic Mutator.”

Harper frowned. Even without a scientific background, he knew Martin was basically implying he had created life. There was a silence. Out of the sea of shocked faces, Martin’s eyes landed upon Gally. She looked oddly calm and dignified, as if she were simply watching the doctor connect the dots. “You knew,” Martin said with a tone that was both a realization and an accusation.

She shrugged in her business-as-usual manner. “It was one of many possibilities, but yes, we prepared for it,” she conceded. “We knew the planet would change; it’s why we had the research stations out here. We assumed new life would form, and after the distress call, we knew it was hostile.”

Doctor Collier nodded, slowly realizing why he was rescued. “And you think I just wipe planets clean in my spare time, is that it?”

Gally blinked, holding her own, not missing a beat in what was growing into an argument. “We can’t all enjoy our jobs, doctor.” It was a crass jab, but she didn’t regret it. Gally had grown up in a military family, holding office or government jobs her whole life. She felt that the truth, sometimes, needed to be said.

Martin had also worked for the Human Government most of his life, but his work—more specifically, his results—devastated him. His response was more of a growl, more of a stab back at the woman. “Where’s this damn army you government types are all so proud of?”

Gally’s eyebrows tented, her head swayed. “Do you have any idea