Page 25 of The First Omega Made
I wondered how he’d repaired my vessel. Serjio’s body had been my home for decades and I writhed my true form and found it stuck and pinched.
New body, who this?
I opened my eyes…eye. Lids didn’t want to cooperate.Shit.
“You’re not going to listen, so I might as well spoiler shit for you.” Noel sighed and waved a hand, sending a view screen above my head.
A bubble of flexine silicate obscured the window from full view above me, and I stared at a prone form of Shafa’s body.
Stitches and staples spidered in neat rows over my chest, already healed in places.
When I moved my true body again, I startled as the view screen above me showed Shafa flopping around in a spasm. My entire true body burned and stung.
“I’m not versed with Colthraxian biology. Is there anything I can give you that would anesthetize you?” Noel flicked his hand at a screen and scrolled through an unreasonable amountof text. He could readdamnfast if his whirring eyes were any indication.
“Wahnl Akta—” When my mouth moved—so did Shafa’s.
“Eugenyl acetate,” Merriel said. “I speak fluent stoned.”
“Dosage and route of administration?” Noel searched through cabinets and hummed to himself, as cold and calculated in his movements as his counterparts. I’d never tell him so, but he held a lot of the Naleucian mannerisms. Humanity hadn’t rubbed off on him nearly enough. Maybe Vil would, though.
I fought my tongue, thick, and tried to speak.
“300ppm aerosolized in the oxygen.” Merriel’s voice practically had a smile to it.
“Wonderful.” Noel stepped out of my limited field of vision, as my head didn’t want to move. Nothing of me wanted to move. But it was okay, I was alive and… I could ask how later as the overwhelming scent of cloves drew me under.
I woke again, staring at the ceiling of the quarantine room. Trying to move was more successful than before as I clawed my way to sit up. “Merriel. Mirror, please?”
My slurred words came out in a voice I wasn’t accustomed to. Shafa’s baritone came in place of Sarge’s gravelly tones.
“Morning, Sarge.” Merriel threw up a view screen in midair, reflecting back my orange flesh, the darker patterns of burnt umber winding through it like stripes, almost. My deep-set red eyes blinked back at me, and my chest heaved, free of staples and stitches. I traced my hand and dark nails over unblemished flesh—not even a scar. Just as Shafa had been.
“How? We cannot take over a Naleucian body.” I strained and as I tried to move my true body, to reacquaint myself, nothing happened. Just a hollow dissociation that made my stomach churn.
“Well, man, youcan, but it’s the last body you’ll ever take.” Merriel silenced as I took in his words.
“The last?” Mylasthad been two bodies ago.
“Yeah, removing Shafa from this body was hard AF, man. The body takes you over as much as you take it. It destroys the conscious part of the host’s brain, but you’re effectively a Naleucian. The parasite is just a separate host to your mind.”
I traced my new chest.Mine.My mind couldn’t reacquaint myself with my true form and if what Merriel said was true, there wasn’t much left of my true self to be a Colthraxian any longer.
“Yeah, your little worm body will be gone in a few solar rotations, just a little brain and some accessory organs. I don’t even think Shafa had been in that body long enough to fully host it.” Merriel changed the position of the camera as I moved to sit up fully.
“My little worm body… My true form… This is my host, but my mind says it is my body. It’s home.” Wearing Shafa’s skin fit like a glove. I had greater senses as scents and colors assaulted me.
“Yeah. Noel is coming so like, cover the dick up, dude.”
I glanced down and stared.Nice.
And my only thought was what Doc would think.
If what he’d said about how Shafa scented—I may have been fully compatible with him.
Orange hair slicked down my back, a shade lighter than my flesh, almost ginger, but coordinated into my tigerish appearance.
At the last moment, I pulled a blanket over my lap and tucked my tail with an uncoordinated gesture. So, when Noel barged in without a knock, I stared at him and hoped my face’s expression lined up with my intent. Confusion.
