Tyrus arrived at the Cinderrow command post later that afternoon with a small case in one hand and the expression of someone who had already been inconvenienced before entering the room.
"You brought me from a functioning laboratory to look at photographs."
Hans turned the display toward him.
"Yes. How were they?"
Tyrus stopped complaining, flicking his hair. "Mildly interested."
"Only mildly?"
"Kordula remains more interesting when she is annoyed."
"I thought you two were rivals."
"Rivals, not enemies."
Matilda pushed the photographs across the table.
"These came from all four inner approaches."
Tyrus set his case down and picked up the first one. The Cinderrow root occupied most of the image, exposed where artillery had opened the road.
"How fresh?"
"This morning."
He moved to the Aldermere photograph.
"And this?"
"Same."
Hans brought up the Kingswell recording.
"I thought it might be Hive growth. A new mutation. You’ve been cutting enough of that apart lately."
"I have."
"And?"
Tyrus enlarged the Cinderrow image.
"Not even close."
"That quick?"
"The Ironford Hive produced connective tissue. Highcross did something similar around the Broodmother." Tyrus pointed toward the exposed growth. "Those spread over existing material and incorporated it. This displaced the pavement."
He changed photographs.
"It grows like a root."
"So it’s a tree."
"It resembles something botanical."
"That’s a long way of saying tree."
"It’s a shorter way of saying I haven’t examined a sample."
Matilda opened the eastern Raptor recording.
"We also have this."
The camera crossed ruined buildings and exposed roads before a dark line appeared below, disappeared beneath a collapsed structure and emerged on the other side.
Hans slowed the footage.
"How about that?"
Tyrus leaned closer.
"Distance from the first photograph?"
"About two and a half kilometers."
He watched the recording again.
"Still botanical?"
"If it isn’t, you’ve found something stranger than a Hive."
Tyrus returned to the photographs. The Rushfield image showed part of one exposed root broken open by artillery, revealing a lighter interior beneath the bark.
He studied it for several seconds.
"Calling it botanical is becoming difficult to argue against."
"How dangerous are we talking about?"
Tyrus remained quiet.
"Have I ever told you HELIX worked with plants?"
"You’re about to."
"Animals too. All done for comparative evolutionary research."
Hans pulled out the chair across from him.
"What happened to the plants?"
"Almost the same as your regular human and animal. The sad part was that plants couldn’t solve problems by moving."
"And so?"
"They compensated with reach. Larger root systems, faster absorption, better environmental response, accelerated growth toward pressure or resources."
Hans looked at the photographs again.
"Was their reach as far as this?"
"No."
The answer came immediately.
"Not even close?"
"Nothing HELIX produced."
Matilda placed a printed city map beside the photographs. Hans had already marked the approximate inner region for Tyrus, along with the photographed root positions around it.
Tyrus studied the distances.
"I’ve seen Tier One botanical subjects. But this one cannot be Tier One."
"Where are you going with this?"
"If these roots belong to the same organism, I suspect you may be looking at a Tier Two botanical lifeform."
"What’s the difference?"
"Let’s just say, Tier Twos are on a different level. They have something called Domain."
Hans frowned. "That’s an actual term? Sound like something from a game."
Matilda looked over the map.
"What does it mean?"
"An area around a Tier Two organism where its evolved characteristics can extend beyond the physical body."
"Does it have a fixed range?" Hans asked.
"Nothing fixed. The organism, its evolutionary path and its environment all matter. Entering one doesn’t spell instant death, but you can be sure death will follow. How it chooses to do that is another matter."
Tyrus looked again at the marked region.
"Have your people encountered infected inside this area?"
Hans paused. "They avoid it like a pandemic."
"All of them?"
"As far as my soldiers were concerned, yes. There were no hives reported either."
"Oh."
Tyrus’s attention returned to the roots. "Then you have a severe overgrowth problem, Commander. I’m afraid this one is approaching Tier Two. No, it’s already Tier Two."
"Aren’t you good at solving problems?"
"Unfortunately, not for this one. Your only option now is to leave it be. Or if you have a nuclear weapon that can wipe it out instantly."
"What about large shells? Do they not work?"
"HELIX plants usually exhibit powerful regenerative behavior. You’ll run out of shells before that thing sheds its first layer of bark. I really suggest you’d sit this one out, Commander. I would be in despair if I lose you."
Hans almost laughed. I’ll run out of shells first?
That was probably true for everyone else on Aurelia.
"Well, thank you for your input then."
"Oh, you needed that. If there’s nothing else, can I get back to my laboratory now?"
"Safe trips, Dr. Tyrus. And send my regards to Overseer Weissenberg."
Tyrus picked up his case.
"I will carefully omit the part where you immediately ignored my advice."
"I haven’t ignored anything yet."
"That word is doing considerable work."
Hans waved him away. Tyrus left the command post without another word.
Matilda waited until the door closed before looking at Hans.
"Are you going to shell it, Commander?"
Hans returned to the photographs.
"Eventually."
That answer seemed to surprise her more than anything Tyrus had said.
Hans pulled the printed map closer. Roots had been photographed around all four approaches, and everything they had seen so far pointed toward the same region.
A Tier Two. Or something close enough to one.
He wasn’t particularly interested in finding out its strength by walking soldiers into an area that tens of millions of infected already refused to enter.
If there was one thing horror films taught him—it was that you should fear what a monster fears even more.
Tyrus’s other warning bothered him for a different reason.
You’ll run out of shells first.
Hans almost smiled again. The man had made one very reasonable assumption, that Hans’s ammunition worked like everyone else’s.
Although it indeed was not, it didn’t mean he had to start firing today.
Hans looked toward the Core beyond the command-post windows. The pale haze remained between the distant buildings, with its outer boundary considerably farther inside than it had been the previous morning.
"Keep the containment lines where they are."
Matilda stepped beside the table.
"Are we going to hold the advance, Commander?"
"Yes, but don’t let your guard down. I need that promotion first."
Most of his Hellhammers were max-star, but Hans wanted more insurance in eliminating the Tier Two threat. That insurance came from his Rank 4 promotion.
Matilda looked at him for a moment.
"That’s unusually patient of you, Commander."
"The super tree isn’t going anywhere. Well, at least we hope it does not."
He opened the System interface.
The wider military picture had become ridiculous over the last several days. Companies covered every side of the Core, more formations remained behind them, and production queues continued feeding vehicles and personnel into a military that was already larger than anything Hans had expected to command this soon.
Yet one requirement had refused to change: naval forces. Rank 4 needed ten combat ships and five naval transports, something that Grefort could not reliably offer.
"How’s Saicine?"
"Most of the city has been cleared of infected. Only a few smaller areas remain."
"How about the survivors?"
"Mildly avoiding our soldiers. Possibly afraid."
"Or are waiting for something," Hans looked out through the window. "And the harbors?"
"Most of the approach is clear. Felix has sent a proposal to your desk days ago."
"Why was I not informed?" Hans frowned.
"You specifically told us to lower Saicine’s priority, Commander."
Hans turned speechless, shifting his attention back into the Core.
Every promotion so far had changed what the System allowed him to field.
He didn’t know whether the next one would hand him the perfect answer to a regenerative tree, but fighting something Tyrus considered suicidal before collecting an upgrade within his reach sounded stupid.
"Forget it. I’ll take a look at Felix’s reports and proposal."
"Shall I prep a Falcon, Commander?"
"Order a small escort," Hans paused. "And call Kimmy. Tell her we’re going to the beach."
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