Jan wanted to resume her vigil with Kal in the infirmary. However, since Kal's condition was stable and required little additional attention, they'd "discharged" him to his room. To be perfectly honest, they'd simply shoved him aside to make room for more critical injuries. Triage, the art of prioritizing the hurt, was how the Hives managed to keep themselves going. It was also enough to rip a doctor's heart out.
So, instead, Jan sat with Kal at his bedside in his own room. The room was tiny, as there'd been little space in the Hive to begin with, but there was enough room for a bed and a chair.
Jan couldn't cry any more; her tears were run out. She sat in cold silence, trembling.
"Jan," said Kal, "what happened out there?"
"I killed people so that the Hive would survive," she said bluntly. "Oh, sure, I can say I had no choice, that the Swatbots were about to catch us all… But I can see them. Whenever I close my eyes, they're there. They… they say… "We trusted you, Jan, but you were just a battle computer. You weren't an animal. You abandoned us because of what might happen. You killed us." And I can't say anything, because I know they're right… I can only say, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"
"A battle computer? Jan, you're the most compassionate…"
"You don't know anything!" Jan shouted, and she would have wept if her tear ducts weren't still in shock. "Sure I can feel compassion now, but I sold my soul long ago, and now all I can do is damn others! And whenever things get dangerous, goodbye, compassion. Hello, murderer!" She wailed. "And if I say I hate myself, then everyone says, "You did the right thing, Jan." Shit! They want to comfort me? If they wanted to help me, they'd lock me up or stop listening to me, because my words are death and my touch is hate!"
"Now you're talking nonsense!"
She looked at him. "You still believe I have worth? Well, let me shatter your last illusion, buddy. I made a deal with the devil, and I've paid it back in the blood of the Hive!"
"What is that supposed to mean?"
She reasserted herself, anatomizing her devil with excruciating precision. "The devil I'm talking about is skinny, with an angular face and the scales stretched tight over his body. He has small, weak limbs and a tube-like, narrow body. We call him Gaunt because he's skinny and weak and old, but he's all the more dangerous for it.
"Long ago, some Mobian snakes went sentient. Most never made it, but a few grew weak limbs and better tongues and eventually joined society. There were never many of them, because they retained one dangerous and deadly power: the hypnotism of those eyes.
"Those eyes gave them great influence, but also made them feared; most were killed off. But those that survived were smarter, more survivable, and more dangerous than ever.
"Eight years ago, this Hive was reeling from its losses to Metronome. We were breaking down. We were getting too tired and thinking too slowly. So Tosul and I asked everyone what they could do to help. That's when we discovered Gaunt. He offered to help: he would simply plant in us hypnotic commands that could be activated later. Tosul's was simple. Gaunt can tell him to go take a nap, and Tosul goes to his room and goes straight to sleep. He doesn't think about it, he can't; he just does it. And when Gaunt gives him the words to wake up, Tosul wakes up, fresh and rested. That's why Tosul can work such long hours.
"Mine was much harder. For me, I… I was stupid. I asked him—ASKED him!—to develop a command to strip my emotions. No more fear. No more anxiety. No more urge for self-preservation. Just me and the problem and the goal to keep the Hive safe.
"But Gaunt was too good a hypnotist. He discovered that all of these emotions were tied together with all my others. Compassion and empathy, he realized, got in my way by changing my goals. So he cut those out. But those were linked to more emotions, so then he cut more. And more. Soon, those eyes of his had chopped out most of my psyche. Like a surgeon who loves blood more than he likes healing.
"He woke me up and explained it to me… explained that I could be the computer if he just said "Take Charge"… and I thanked him!"
She shook. "I thanked him for making me the biggest threat to this Hive! I thanked him for making me death!"
She collapsed upon herself. "But when I try to solve that problem… there are only two ways to stop my being a threat. I want to stop being the leader. But everyone says they need me, and I can't help myself, and I let that demon say "take charge" again and again until I become the computer! I fought him today, I fought him with everything I could, but I let him curse my mind like that, so I couldn't stop him!
"And then when I want to… Damn it! Too many people love me!"
She sobbed without tears. "Why do you love me? Just wait! I'll kill you yet! You and Skink and Tosul… you love me… so I can't save you from me! I'm the mother that devours her children, and the children say, "We love you, mommy," as she kills them! Can't you stop loving me?"
She shook in her chair. "Please don't love me," she said. "Please, don't love me. I can't save you. If you love me, I'll kill you, because as long as you love me, I can't kill myself."
"You'd… do that?"
"Yes!" she screamed. "Instantly! Better me to die than you or anyone, I'm the murderer! But as long as you love me, the torture goes on, and my slaughter goes on."
He looked as if he wanted to speak. "Don't you dare try to contradict me here," she said. "I could best serve the Hive by dying. But you won't let me die!" She howled. "How's this for compassion! People love me, so I have to keep killing people!"
"Jan…"
"Don't love me! I love you, so don't love me!"
Jan fell from her chair to the ground. She collapsed into convulsions, frothing at the mouth. And Kal, unable to move because of his injuries, couldn't even call for help.
Robotnik growled as the hovercraft moved on. He and Snively were having an awful time trying to run the city without inter-city communications, as those had been run by the mainframe. All they could do was run around in the hovercraft, issuing orders directly from there and hoping enough bots heard them to get the order carried out.
The damage the Princess had wreaked with that simple attack had been crippling, Robotnik thought nauseously. Factory control, energy flow, requirements and production, Swatbot coordination, inventory and accounting of imports and exports, even work details for worker bots—all were run through the mainframe, so all were shut down now.
Robotnik had assumed it invulnerable, and why not? It was protected by the most complex and impenetrable encryptions, access points could get only the information needed and no more, and there was no hope of a physical attack. Yet the Princess had found the one weakness with the system—Snively—and had exploited it. Her skill at such things was downright uncanny, Robotnik thought uneasily.
Long-range communications still worked, and it was to that building that Robotnik and Snively moved now.
Robotnik was panting heavily by time they got to the communications room. Get out of the hovercraft, walk somewhere, walk back, get back in, go somewhere, get out, walk somewhere, walk back… Would it never end? This day was tiring him out quickly. A day when he could be sedentary was a good day. By that standard, this was the worst day on record.
Without being told, Snively began pulling up the communications logs since they'd last checked in. He skimmed the routine stuff, looking for anything important. There was something. "Sir, Swatbot Commander x-397…"
"Idiot, I don't memorize Swatbot serial numbers!" Moving around had made Robotnik irritable. Well, not just that; having your mainframe crashed would make anyone irritable, he thought. As if he'd apologize! He couldn't remember if he'd ever sincerely apologized in his life.
"The commander of the Southern Continent, sir," said Snively, obviously becoming nervous. Robotnik didn't like it when Snively became nervous; it meant he was trying not to say something unpleasant.
Robotnik grunted, unsure he wanted to actually hear what Snively was about to say. "I've long wanted to teach that one a lesson, but you can't motivate a Swatbot, and a replacement would do just as poorly. There are disadvantages to Swatbots."
"Well, sir, it reports that…" he swallowed, "it wants to know when its reinforcements will come."
"Reinforcements?"
Snively squeaked. "Yes, sir. We—we promised to send it the next few production runs of Swatbots, sir, and it based its planning off of that!"
Robotnik's voice was low and menacing. "Snively, I think I want to keep those Swatbots here! And it's not like those factories are working right now!"
"Yes, sir, but, you see, it based its planning off of having superior numbers…"
"AND?"
"…so it's lost almost a thousand Swatbots in battle today."
Robotnik ran through the full range of emotions he knew. He ended with plain stupefaction. "A… thousand?"
"Yes, sir," said Snively, whose eyes were now searching for the closest escape route.
Robotnik felt powerless. There was no way to undo the destruction of those bots; it was all but pointless to be angry with the Swatbot.
He hated feeling powerless. He recovered in a heartbeat.
"Snively, find a new commander Swatbot and tell it to take over the Southern Continent immediately. As soon as the new commander is in place, destroy the Swatbot currently in command there."
"Yes, sir."
Something had to be wrong with that Swatbot. No Swatbot had ever been that incompetent! Replacing it should correct the error. Even if it didn't, Robotnik would at least feel better. "Then cancel the orders to reinforce the Southern Continent. We haven't struggled to put the Continent's factories back together so that we can send Swatbots there! Tell them to order those factories to increase production if they need more troops!"
"Yes, sir."
"Finally, see how many worker bots the other cities can spare. We need Robotropolis back up and running, and we need it now!"
The doctors had strapped Jan down in her bed. The infirmary was still far too full to waste room on someone who didn't need medical attention, but they couldn't let her free, so they'd tied her down. Skink sat there to monitor her.
Skink shook his head. He'd saved the last plant for her. The last plant that could be made into the burn-healing potion still grew on the mountain above. Skink had saved it so that, if Jan were ever hurt, he could save her. But he couldn't save her from herself.
She was still alive, but not of her own will. That was why she had to be tied down.
Skink was patient, but this was draining the life out of him. Jan had once been a vibrant, beautiful vixen. Her distant relation to the Royal family had been neither burden nor boon to her; she'd gained success and respect solely out of her own abilities. When the Kingdom had fallen, it was Jan who'd rallied the animals of the Continent. She'd led the resistance right from the start. Under her direction, it had taken Robotnik over a year to even get a foothold in the Southern Continent. And when the Swatbots finally overran the cities, it was Jan who'd led the survivors to the mountains to inhabit the newly-completed Hives.
Jan had fought for almost ten years without a break. And now it had finally caught up with her. Caught her and broke her.
Years ago she'd looked like the Princess of the Kingdom—the same beautiful eyes and face, if anything a better-proportioned, more appealing body, and a sharp and powerful mind. Guiding it all, a heart that had never failed and a will that had never yielded.
Now Skink could barely recognize her. Her body was weak from malnourishment and years of abuse. The once-sparkling eyes were bloodshot through and through. The hair was shorn short and hadn't been really clean in many years. The mind was submerged in the raging emotions that now consumed her.
Even with all that, it was the collapse of her heart that had most disfigured her.
But her will was intact.
As he watched, the reading that monitored her heartbeat was registering less and less activity. The same with blood pressure, brainwaves, and breathing—all were dropping for no apparent reason.
Skink knew the reason. She was willing herself to die.
Skink was ripped apart. What was he supposed to do? He was just a skink! Should he respect her will to die? Or should he decide that she shouldn't?
He decided.
He grabbed at her hands, feeling his rough scales scrape her soft skin. "Please," he said, "Jan can die at any time, but she can only live once."
All her vitals continued to fall, but he could have sworn he heard her voice. 'I know that. But for me, the end should be sooner rather than later.'
"Jan's time is not over!" he said. "If Jan lives, she has the chance to be happy!"
'Not so long as there's war.'
"The war can't go forever."
'Why not? It doesn't have to, anyway. Just longer than I can.'
"We just have to last a little longer. Robotnik was going to send Metronome reinforcements. But order was canceled!"
The brainwave monitor spiked. She knew what that meant. Skink explained it anyway.
"That means that whoever is fighting him is hurting him! We just have to live longer!"
The monitors seemed to stabilize a bit, then fell again.
'What does it matter? The life I'd live wouldn't be worth anything. I'd be haunted by the memories of my crimes. I'd be a miserable wreck with a miserable life.'
"But doesn't Jan want to make things grow?"
The monitors stopped their fall.
"Jan! Jan!" said Skink, excited and desperate. "Jan wants to make things grow! That's what Jan can do after war! Skink can't do that, Skink can only run. Tosul can't do that, Tosul can only talk."
'I can't do that. I can only kill.'
"No, Jan, Jan is wrong! Jan can help everyone! There are many kinds of seeds. Seeds of plants, yes. Also seeds of hope. Seeds of future. Seeds of rebirth. Only Jan knows how to grow those seeds!"
The monitors wavered.
'No one would follow me. I've killed too many.'
"Hive has followed Jan because Hive knows Jan loves Hive. If Hive dies, then Hive's time to die. Not Jan's fault."
'But it is! It's my job to save animals, not kill them!'
"And Jan has, better than anyone. Better than without Jan."
'What if I get everyone killed? I won't have saved anybody!'
"Then no one could save Hive. Still not Jan's fault."
'So I'm your best choice? Me?'
"Choice Hive has made. Skink loves Jan. Kal loves Jan. Tosul loves Jan. Hive loves Jan."
The monitors hovered. In sudden inspiration, Skink reached back and ripped off his tail. There was a moment of extreme pain, and then it went numb. His tail wiggled and squirmed in his paw, thrashing from evolved survival instinct that hadn't had the time to become obsolete.
He pressed the tail into Jan's paw and closed her fingers around it. It struggled to escape.
"Jan, tail has killed animals. Let tail die instead of Jan. Yes. Tail will die for Jan."
She squeezed it hard. "Yes, Jan! Put Jan's sins on tail. Then Skink will throw tail to Swatbots. Let Swatbots have sins. Put sins where they belong. Yes."
It took a few more minutes, but the tail stopped convulsing, and Jan released it. Skink gingerly picked it up, then held Jan's paw in his free paw.
Slowly but surely, the monitors rose to more normal levels.
'I will never fight again. I could never do it. Nor will I ever carry a weapon. Even if it means my death, I'll never fire again.'
"Skink knows Hive will accept Jan anyway."
A few moments of silence.
'Thank you, Skink.'
"Skink just doing best Skink can. Skink loves Jan."
He left, bearing his severed tail.
To be continued…