Darkvision

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Shaddon gazed into a massive crystalline boulder suspended on an iron chain. It was the largest uncut stone his miners had ever discovered. His first thought was to use it as another crystal for his prosthesis project. But this particular globe of purple mineral proved far more significant than every earlier specimen he'd prized from the great dark. Shaddon grinned so fiercely his face nearly split. In this piece of mute stone, he had found untapped energy-energy eager to jump into all the previous mineral he'd cut to such exacting standards. The arrival of this massive sphere marked the transition where his prosthetics research graduated from sub-par replacements to superhuman relics. With this orb, he was able to fashion plangents. The limbs, organs, senses, and even reasoning faculties he installed in plangents were superior to anything mortals were born with. He could truthfully claim the ability to make people better! True, he had a few bad nights when the energy source fueling his plangents proved itself sentient.

What had he unleashed? Those fears had passed. This entity showed him advantages he'd never dreamed possible. With the great orb, he could seize absolute control over everyone who accepted a plangent implant.

In the two years since this great discovery, Shaddon's attitude had slowly migrated from vague unease to glorious satisfaction with his newfound power, despite a single downside. He pushed his mind away from that topic. His was the power of absolute mastery over a growing number of better-than-normal wealthy merchants, nobles, and other people of note. Shaddon Datharathi reached out his artificial hand to change the focus of the colossal globe. Each rough facet glowed with an image, as if from a different viewpoint. Each image was, in truth, from the perspective of someone who had submitted to Body Shop improvements. The plangents, who came to the Body Shop as rich, powerful elites, thought they were gaining membership in an exclusive club. It was true-in submitting to the implant, they gained the powers of a super-normal human, as promised. What they didn't know was that wearing a Datharathi prosthesis of recent manufacture put the wearer's soul in thrall. Shaddon grinned even wider. He was the thrall master.

The project had exceeded his wildest hopes. His subjects of control continued to proliferate. Each offered him a new window on the world-and a new vessel that would accede to his utter bidding. Why not smile? He giggled, the tone high and tittering. He watched from the eyes of a nobleman of the Kant family as he sneaked away to a tryst with a secret lover. Shaddon shifted his focus, and with only a twinge of pain, mentally propelled his senses into his thrall. The next instant, he was the noble. He could feel the man's breath, feel his crystalline heart, move his hands, twirl his body, whatever he desired. He let out a hoot in the man's deep voice, then retreated back into his own body, leaving the nobleman turned around and confused about the moment of lost time. Shaddon would have time enough for idle fun later. At the moment, he needed to ponder a recent development-his grandson Warian had returned to Vaelan. And with such an interesting story. His prosthesis was acting up, surging with a strength it had never before possessed. How could that be? None of the pre-plangent prostheses were linked to the orb. Had some sort of spontaneous linkage occurred? Possibly, except no matter how he tried, he couldn't find his grandson on the great orb. Did he have a plangent's strength without the bondage? He needed to get a look at that arm. It had been simplicity itself to puppet his son, Xaemar, into sending Warian directly to Adama's Tooth. He seized control of Xaemar so often these days it was like putting on an old glove.

Shaddon wondered how much of Xaemar's original mind remained. He had pushed it aside so often-there could be permanent damage. He resolved to look into it. Later. If Warian's original prosthesis had gained some of the power generated by the entity, or from a source other than the entity, then Shaddon needed to know. Shaddon couldn't slide his senses into his nephew, which galled him. But if Warian's particular investiture of crystal represented a way to avoid control, this was knowledge Shaddon needed! Could he free himself from the influence of the entity, without giving up his own control? Could he cut Pandorym out of… Darkness doused a quarter of the facets on the great crystal orb. Shaddon's grin collapsed. "No," he whimpered. Guilt blazed like a bonfire through his consciousness. "I didn't mean it! I was just wondering-I did not plan on taking any action. You don't have to come forward. I promise, I promise! Please…" The darkness multiplied until every facet was as black as a vein of coal-and then grew darker.

The void crept over the faces of the crystal orb, until all the chamber was dark. The only remaining light glowed from a point in Shaddon's frenzied mind. A purplish radiance lived there, but even that light was shot through with darkness, black worms infesting the core. "Pandorym, no…" pleaded Shaddon, his desperation a deluge of sick terror. His supplications were worthless. Just as Shaddon could look out from the eyes of those who wore Datharathi crystal, the entity could look out from Shaddon. He, alone of all plangents, was able to retain the memory of being pushed aside while the other looked out; such was the price he paid for his ability to control others. The pain couldn't have been worse if his innards had pushed out through his skin to make room for the cold intrusion. Through his retching, Shaddon began to scream as the darkness took him.