73 - What IS that?

*I am powering down ninety-six point four percent of my output.* Mom said in their heads. It wasn’t possible to change the volume in code but she still managed to imply that she was speaking in a hushed whisper.

*I am encysted.* Agador said. *I am apparently an embedded Station subroutine.*

*My Beloved Page, is that really Prime?* Terry was shocked. Any time he’d seen Prime before, he was a severe looking man, with white hair and a delicate gold exo-skeleton laced all through his skin so that he glittered. A healthy man.

Prime’s hair was still white and thick, cut short and severe as his Immoderates, and the spirals of support skeleton still gleamed as though he stood in a spotlight. But his skin, white and papery and fragile, seemed to be delicately bruised by the medical wires themselves, somehow hanging through and on the supports. Puddles of blue shone under the pale skin.  The whites of his eyes, also laced with gold, were spotted with the red of broken bloodvessels. His throne was turned to its highest level of support and his robes were wolf furs and the most delicate of lamb’s wool leather, trying to cushion a body that gave the impression of melting.

He sat, in the throne, when the shuttle’s belly doors had opened, and the Immoderates, a dozen strong, in their elegant grey uniforms, had spread out to check Station.  In their hands were security spheres, that looked like soap bubbles, pulsing colours.  *Can they see us, Mom? Can they find us?*

*They shouldn’t be able to. We’re doing our absolute best to be invisible, here.*

The Captain of the Immoderates turned to face Prime, even though he didn’t need to, to make his report. “All clear, Oh Prime among men.”

“Excellent, Fortesque.” The throne floated down the slight ramp and hovered next to him. “Send your men in to do a deep check.” He turned to walk next to his Prime’s motion, hands clasped behind him. They stepped out onto the new ‘welcome way’ from the garage.  “I will be much more comfortable once I am---“

Prime’s voice stopped as if someone had cut his throat. “Station. What is that?”

“A new design for a Pachyderm(tm), designed by a Galactic tech at your order, Prime.”

Terry nearly swallowed his tongue in horror and he glanced over at Alissa who looked somewhat chagrined but more offended. His eyes swung back to where Mom obligingly gave him the view from just behind Prime’s head, showing what he was staring up at.

The monster was three times the size of any Pachyderm. It looked as though someone had taken a horse and blown it up hugely, changed out the four legs for eight spider legs and it stood up on the tips of its shining claws. Each leg had scythe blades at every joint.  Massive furled wings that were clearly not feathered but rather leathered lay along its back. All the way around the body, chest high, it had a ring of what looked like human skulls carved out of ice, or crystal melted to it. It was made of clear ice, steel, and what looked like bone.  The head of horse was adorned with delicate ice flowers and ribbons and even the long steel cutting fangs had flowers wound around them.