Sven Iscidae's page

"It's not really a fifty-fifty shot, Dash," Sven says conversationally, "What you're really saying is that you think the guy who pointed out the geneticist's identification of a monster - and stuck with that to have the monster killed, and who logicked out another monster - and stuck with that accusation as well, to have the second monster killed - you're voting that that guy's a monster. Honestly, if that's true, I am the worst monster who ever monstered. Or perhaps you're not thinking it through and are making a terrible mistake, one that will live on outside this station."

Sven shrugs. "There's time. Think about it. Of course, as you're voting now, the three of us won't have any problems, because we'll all be dead. Mike will be free to concoct a story - and damn, he's good at it! - and start spreading his kind among humanity. The ones alive, they'll have the problem. Because of you."

"No pressure."

Sven snaps at Mike, "Let him think, creature. He'll come to the right answer if he just puts his mind to it. He's upset about the Duke, who was an old friend. It probably seems like I lead the charge against his friend, but I didn't - the Duke was gone by then, only the monster remained. I'm sorry, Robert, but it's true. Just like Clive was already gone. Mike's gone, too, and this thing is trying to save itself."

Sven sighs. "I don't know what to tell the authorities about the dead people if we manage to get out of this - which we should, it's 3-1. We can still take him if we work together. But I feel responsible for Wilkins and Tharp. I've had head injuries. If they don't believe it about the creatures - which they should, we have evidence and DNA - then I'll take the rap, confess to murdering them. No point you two going to jail." He flops his notebook around aimlessly. "Somebody else can pick up the ball for the penguins."

"Why do you think that, Robert? Explain. Explain why I'd point out both Clive and the Duke if I were a monster? How would that make any sense? For the sake of humanity, think man. Go through it in your mind. Go through it out loud. Talk it over with Dash." Sven speaks gently to the man.

"You guys really do need to vote. If you don't, he's going to kill one of you. He won't kill me because then it will be obvious what he is. So for your own sakes, vote."

Sven snorts himself awake and sits up bleary-eyed, wiping drool from his cheek onto his forearm.

"Uuugh. What, did everyone check out for a nap? Not good safety policy, Dash. Were you saying something, monster? Thought I had a weird dream about screeching and tentacles."

Rising, he rinses his face at the sink, then shakes like a dog shedding water. "Oh man, better. So, unnatural abilities of persuasion -- like reason and logic? And pointing out monsters and sticking with that identification instead of faffing about? Oh yeah, very dangerous behaviour - to a nunnlif."

"Time that we put the monster threat to an end." Sven regards Maxerson sadly, then hoists the body to his shoulder to add the survivalist to the pile in cold storage. "Time to save, humanity, roommates. Not that this feels much like a victory with so many of us dead."

Sven votes for Mike Cooper for Head Nunnlif In Charge.

Back enough to post when awake. :)

Things went well, thank you.

I'm going in for surgery today and hope to be back online this weekend sometime. Though this isn't nearly good as Doug's "goat in the ventilation shafts" play, Sven won't be able to be his usual blathering, rude, and argumentative self until I'm back. So, nap time.

Later guys!

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm beat. Not the best time, but I'm going to catch a nap. 20 minutes - don't let me sleep longer. And you roommates keep an eye on Mike so he doesn't turn into a hentai nightmare when nobody's watching." Sven lays his head on his arms, kindergarten-style, and is soon snoring lightly.

Sven slowly and painfully rises from the floor where he'd been thrown when "the Duke" broke free of the restraints. He stares at Maxerson's steaming corpse.

"Dude... dude, you saved me. Saved us all. And... and that was hardcore, man."

Rubbing his head, he muses, "And that answers the last question I had. I was sure the Duke had been replaced, but wasn't sure if the other was you or Mike, Maxerson. Even though I thought you were a fraud, I'd hoped you weren't a monster. You died a hero. I hope the world hears about it someday. Respect. Much respect."

Turning to Dash and Robert, Sven looks them up and down. "You guys OK? I was sure Dash would be the next to go. Glad both of you are still here. Now we have a chance."

He turns dazedly to Mike. "You... you withdrew your vote for me, even though it would doom your fellow monster. Why? Why would you do that?" Shaking his head gingerly, he takes a seat. "Maybe you didn't know. Or... maybe you did. Maybe... queen's sacrifice?" He regards Mike with dawning understanding, and perhaps respect.

"You needed something to make them think you're human. It's not hard to believe; I nearly fell for your act. You're good! So you sacrifice your last fellow to try to get our roommates to turn on me, fry my brains. While they do that, you stab one in the back and... the poor chump who's left doesn't have a chance. Brilliant!" Sven laughs and begins a slow clap. "I knew you guys were ruthless and brutal, but I didn't know you were smart! Hard not to admire a good move like that, even from a monster. I'd hate to play chess with you. If you were human, I'd shake your hand. But as it is, your hand might bite me."

"But now that we know how smart your kind is, we need to stop you. The fate of humanity is at stake."

"You're really going to buy the Duke's argument that 'Sven's a monster because he voluntarily turned in one of his own kind to live, even though nobody else seemed to notice the human geneticist's hints'? Seriously? With a strategy like that, I may as well attach the electrodes to my own head. That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard, guys. And that's saying a lot. I've been in Academia a long time."

Sven regards the "Duke" mildly, then hoists Tharp's fried corpse to his shoulder and staggers with it to cold storage.

"'Nunnlif' isn't a scientific term. It was meant to be courtesy. This is our first meeting with an intelligent life form. It's exciting! It's amazing! And I thought "monster" or "creature" was a rather rude term. So 'nunnlif' was neutral, at least, and not insulting. I had hoped you would talk to us, work with us, give us the name you have for yourselves. But you didn't." There's a thud from storage as Tharp's body hits the heap, then Sven reappears in the doorway, panting slightly as he addresses the Duke again.

"The real half-witted thing I did was follow you in voting for Tharp. You're right; you frequently urged us not to vote and give the geneticists time to test people. But then, all of a sudden, you pop right up with Tharp's name - after our human geneticists were dead. No reason for it, not that we could see. But you had a reason. You tested Tharp and knew he was human. He'd been on the bubble with a lot of us. So you led the charge and we killed the poor man. Nicely done, by the way. You played us perfectly."

He strides over to where the Duke sits and stands directly in front of the nobleman. "You're what you've been accusing me of - you're the geneticist of your group. And if you think the term "nunnlif" is half-witted, then let's call you what you've proven yourself to be."

"Monster."

"Dash, talk sense into your roommate. If we stalemate, the nunnlif's will kill you, despite your courage in stepping forward as Robert's roommate. Or rather, because of it."

"I should have known better than to follow your vote for Tharp, "Duke"," Sven grouses, "Naturally you'd pick a human to electrocute. I suspected you and still followed your lead. Stupid of me! You won that round, nunnlif."

Sven finishes his cleanup and trundles the Jimmy Bin into the airlock leading to the frigid outdoors. "That'll preserve him for burial. We don't need his DNA for research, poor guy."

Sven stops mopping and stares at the Duke, eyebrows raised. "A duel? What is this, "Hamilton" cosplay? Who duels anymore? "I've bought up Apple stock and am taking it over." "Nay, I challenge thee to a duel!" "Curses, that little-known SEC provision!" Get a grip." He returns to mopping.

"We'll know soon enough who's who, with the chair. Besides, I saw what you did to Marco and Jimmy and Russ and Elora. What could I bring to a duel that would be able to fight that?" He rinses the mop again, then returns from the janitor's closet to address the irate nobleman once again with sneer and a challenging stare.

"Tell you what. You want me? Leave Dash and Robert out of this and get me instead."

He leans on the mop in unconscious imitation of Jimmy. Too bad he has neither the fighting nor the janitorial skills of his model.

Sven nods agreement. "If we're wrong, we're dead," he says dully, sending Jimmy squeezings down the drain.

Sven votes for the Duke.

Sven shrugs. "I only picked up on Russ' clue after he was dead and we realized he was a geneticist. What he said had meaning. What you keep saying has none. You're definitely a monster, if you don't like the term "nunnlif". What do you call yourselves, by the way?"

He shuts the lid on Jimmy's remains and, rinsing the mop in the mop sink, begins clearing away the bloody slick on the floor.

Sven nods sympathetically at poor Robert's roommate. "Yeah. But remember, it's not them anymore. Our friends and comrades are already gone. What's left is an alien life form that doesn't live well with humans. And you know what happens when alien species are introduced where no predators have evolved. Rabbits in Australia. Zebra mussels in the Great Lakes. Overrun. Desolation."

He carefully slides more Jimmy pieces into their temporary resting place. "I just... I wish we'd had a way to tell about Wilkins and Tharp." He sounds stuffed up, whether from a bloody nose or something else, it's difficult to say.

Sven laughs and relaxes against the nearest wall, looking relieved.

"And there's what we needed, fellow humans. The nunnlifs are up against the wall - just like we are - and they need to put a human in the chair as well as kill one of the roommates or we'll have them. You overplayed your hand this time, whatever the heck you are that pretends to be the Duke."

Sven turns to Dash and Robert. "With no protector and you guys vouching for each other as human, they can pick you two off the next time nobody's watching closely. But they decided to rush and try to lynch a human so they can overpower the rest of the humans. I'm the most likely to be human besides you guys. Jimmy certainly thought so, and he was a smart fellow. So one nunnlif got in a hurry and decided to go for another twofer - kill the most likely human - me - and tear apart one of you two. Much as it hurts, Robert, the Duke is certainly not the Duke anymore."

Rummaging in the janitor's closet, Sven emerges with a coal scuttle and a rolling cart containing a large plastic container. Snapping on some rubber gloves, he moves the whole contraption to where Jimmy's remains are scattered and starts shoveling the chunks into the large bin. "A sad end for an almost-great man, this, but taking care of Jimmy's remains is an honor. I can't think of a better thing to do if this is my last hour on earth."

Sven pinches his nose shut so the blood stops dripping and answers Maxerson in an odd, muffled voice. "Beats me, Alex. I wouldn't know. If I were a nunnlif, I certainly wouldn't have pointed out Clive's identification when nobody else seemed to notice. That would have been pretty pointless. No, I'd have kept quiet and jumped on the voting bandwagon once I saw which way the wind was blowing. Or something like that." Brandy has done nothing to improve Sven's use of metaphors. Or is it analogies? He can't remember.

"I know it's hard to think of Mike or the Duke as monsters, but at least one of them is. And I'm wondering about you, Maxerson. Maybe I misunderstood Russ." He looks back at the horrible chair and the final mess that Jimmy ironically left on his own clean floor and plops down into a chair, pale as a sheet. "But we can't go wrong again. Can't. We have no geneticist and no defender. We must guess right."

"Nice try, Mike. But that doesn't make sense. I was the one who figured out Russ's message about Clive. If he were another monster, I would have kept my trap shut. I've been useful to the monster hunting efforts, at least. What have you done? Nope. It's you and the Duke, 75% chance. Otherwise, it's Maxerson and one of you two."

Sven leaves off rolling around on the floor punching Maxerson as Jimmy is dismantled. "Oh God, looks like somebody got him with a Sawsall," he groans, staggering to his feet. "Wrong again. The Nunnlifs must be laughing behind their carapaces. But it's narrowed down now. Mike and Atredies."

Sven staggers back slightly and laughs as Maxerson shakes his hand in pain.

"Yeah, that's what happens when a chunk of your skull is replaced with titanium, Alex. You get kinda hard-headed. And maybe I'd have a LITTLE respect for you if you'd grow some balls and VOTE! You think this is easy for the rest of us? And even if the Duke's voting weird, at least he's voting!"

With a short run, the ornithologist hurls himself at the so-called "survival specialist", slamming his forehead into the man's face.

Sven changes his vote to Tharp.

Sven rises to yell drunkenly in Maxerson's face. "Your life? YOUR life? That piece of fiction you use to make yourself the celebusoldier du jour? Dude, I'd LOVE to see your brains fried, but unfortunately, you're human. Hey, monsters? Eat this guy next. He's a *@&&#@." He shoves Alex's shoulder so the monsters know just which guy he meant.

"We can't let our protector fry and we can't afford to tie. I was gonna vote Tharp, 'cause I think Mike's reason is weak and that Russ was afraid of Tharp. But if Jimmy'll vote for either the Duke or Mike with someone, I'll vote Mike. We can't sit and let them get us. If it's not Mike, then the Duke and Tharp have to go. Unless Russ was wrong, and we're all f*&@ed." Sven hiccups. "I think. Somebody double-check my work. And you guys voting for Jimmy, back offa him."

Sven votes for Mike.

3 posts popped in from the time I previewed until the time I posted. Holding off for a few to let things settle down. My post was hopelessly obsolete.

Sven perches carefully upright on his chair, trying to focus on Dash. "Huh? Didn't say Maxerson wasn't suspishus. Guy's a total fraud, making all kinds of money off that fake survival show. Heard he stayed in a luxury hotel when he was supposed ta have been in a rain forest treehouse. And I'd bet money he has battery-heated underwear on right now!" He shakes his head. "Makin' money while the Earth warms and the penguins die. Sumb#+!* fraud."

Confusion crosses the big man's features for a second and he rises to walk around and drink water. "Whew. Stuff packs a punch, Duke. So you're one of the creatures... maybe. And Tharp and Smith and Cooper. Of course, your lists all look different from mine. Lotsa votes for Jimmy. I mean, I can see why. Jesus, man, do you even have a mirror? You couldn't look scarier unless you had tentacles sprouting where your ears used to be!"

"Russ talked about Maxerson out of nowhere. Nobody else was discussing him. And this was after Wilkins... died, so Russ surely had time to test somebody by then. He couldn't come right out and say that Maxerson was OK or he'd give himself away. So out of the blue, he suddenly announces he was suspicious of Maxerson but wasn't anymore. Because voting for Maxerson wouldn't have tied anything. Maxerson wasn't on the list, Mike. Russ could have voted for Maxerson without affecting results. He didn't. He just said something afterwards for no apparent reason."

Sven hiccups lightly and holds out his glass for more brandy. "Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe I'm seeing things in every little word Russ uttered. But I don't think so. I think he was honest, careful, and honorable in his use of power. Didn't go throwing around kill votes like Jimmy, because he knew his words carried weight in death as in life. No, I trust Russ, may he rest in peace."

"Russ told us it wasn't Maxerson, Mike. Remember: "I almost voted for Maxerson" or something like that? My hypothesis is that he suspected that TV fraud and tested him. Saying he almost voted against Alexander but didn't was his way of telling us he picked up some stray DNA of Maxerson's - somehow - and tested it, found it human. Of course, he could have been wrong. But his next test picked up Clive, and he was right on that one. I'm going to trust him on Maxerson. Just because I despise somebody doesn't mean they're a monstrous alien freak. Freak, yeah, but not the tentacled kind."

The brandy also seems to have taken some of the political-correctness subroutines offline.

Sven, who has been deep in thought, suddenly laughs. "He did tell us!" the ornithologist says cryptically, "Russ, you brilliant and subtle bastard. Wish I'd known you better. It's not Maxerson, much as I hate his TV show. And it's not Dash and Robert, because somebody would have spoken up to contradict them by now. So my remaining suspect list is: Tharp, Mike, Jimmy, and the Duke. Heck, even guessing gives us a 50-50 shot." It appears the brandy has managed to lubricate the synapses of the man's brain and free it of its deadly embrace condition.

Sven rescinds his vote for Red Robert and abstains for now.

Thinkthinkthinkthinkthinkthinkthinkthink...

Sven sits with his eyes closed to shut out the horrid sight of "Clive's" corpse, though nothing shuts out the acrid reek of fried nunnlif. The big man rocks back and forth, obviously making a great number of mental calculations. Finally, he takes a deep breath and opens his eyes, startlingly bright blue against his chalk-pale face.

"I have a couple of theories. I hate to say them out loud, but I do have a vote ready. I vote for The Red Robert being a creature. And if it's wrong and he turns out to be human... Maxerson, you get my next vote." Swallowing hard, the ornithologist holds out an empty glass to the Duke. "If you would, please. This is eating at my last nerve. I don't think much of the frat boy atmosphere of eco-tourism, but this... this is a little different. Doesn't hurt to be numb."

Sven votes for Red Robert.

"If I had wanted to save Nunnlif Clive - because real Clive was already gone - I wouldn't have drawn attention to Russ's hint. And if I were a nunnlif, I think I would have definitely voted against Clive once I saw there were enough votes to carry the day. So I'd look at the later votes for Clive, myself." Sven takes a long hit from his water bottle to keep hydrated. "I'm not sure they had time to do anything, Duke, or to give us any more clues than Russ did. The creatures were fast off the mark to take out those who could identify them."

You can haunt us.

Sven shakes his head. "The credit goes to Russ and his hint. Good thing we got rid of "Clive", he seemed far too sharp. Wouldn't be surprised if he figured out Russ's little hobby. So now there are two nunnlifs left out of Alexander, Tharp, Dash, the Duke, Jimmy, Mike, Red Robert, and myself. Random chance gives us a 25% shot at a creature. Not very good, and we don't really have much to go on." He lapses into thought.

"And poor, clever Russ's sacrifice was not in vain." Sven looks nearly as horrified at "Clive's" demise as at Doctor Wilkins'. "I'm glad we got one of them, but really... he was so... so... Clive-like. Who else could have been taken over. And did he really not know? Surely not. After all, they've been killing us off. There's malicious intent there." Sven's muttering grows into normal speech as he looks around. "Hey, they didn't kill any of us! I wonder why not. Think somebody's watching out for us?"

"Even if Clive has been replaced by a nunnlif, it's still a sad occasion, because our friend Clive - the real Clive - is already dead. And if he hasn't, he's going to be at our hands. Poor Clive." Sven goes to the cooler and fills a festive plastic cup of tepid water, then raises it in salute. "To Clive: his dedication to the the art of caseiculture was second to none. Without Clive, I would have never known the difference between chechil and sulguni. I give you... Clive Chilcott."

He salutes with his cup and drinks it to the dregs.

"I think Russ was able to run at least one test before he died, and he desperately wanted to live, making insinuations in the hopes that the creatures wouldn't catch on. Unfortunately, they did, and better than some humans. It's his last message to us and the closest thing we have to hard data. After this, we may as well draw straws."

"We have actionable intelligence now. Much as I hate to say it, the creatures have demonstrated no goodwill. If they get into the population... We have no choice. As for the other two, with Russ and Elora gone, I'm not sure how we find them."

"Sure, if we, y'know, knew who they were, that would make sense. Otherwise, we're shooting in the dark and have a better chance of offing one of us than a monster. Of course, it'll come down to that soon. If they get to the point of even numbers, no reason for them not to turn on us."

Sven shakes his head and wonders how many Robert has had. "Or how about we take out the nunnlif that the dead geneticist fingered, Robert? Russ called out Clive before he died, and I think we should act on his word. It's the best data we have."

He turns on the survival expert next. "Oh, and Alexander... you do realize there's a continent's worth of snow and ice outside? Really think we're all going to die of thirst, do you?"

"The first was chance. The second one, well, they figured out the message Russ gave us. He tried to pass it off as Elora's warning, but one of the monsters was smart enough to figure out Russ's game and make sure he wouldn't play it again. Right, Clive?" Sven stares flatly at the cheesemonger.

"I understand what he's trying to do, Dash. He's trying to keep us from making any more mistakes and killing another human. Because you're right, the creatures are picking us off. It does't help if we keep killing ourselves off, which we will if we choose the wrong person." Sven takes another cup of water from the cooler and plops into a chair with his back against a wall. "That means we have to choose the right person, who isn't a person anymore. All of us are doing a good job at being ourselves. So the creatures are good mimics. Elora might have known, but she's gone. Do you think her warning about cheese is really a warning about Clive?"

Sven watches Alexander carefully when the survival expert starts talking about drinking. At the word "water", he relaxes. "As long as it's really water, I agree. Nothing else. I've seen some of your shows, man."

"Exactly right. The Nunnlifs will kill us quickly enough; killing what humans remain only helps their cause. If we put another to the chair, we need to have a good reason. But we're going to have to sometime, or they'll pick us off one by one until they outnumber us." Sven strides to the water cooler, picks up a plastic cup, writes SVEN on it with a permanent marker, then fills it with water and takes a drink, setting the empty glass on a nearby table. "If anyone wants to test me, there's an easy way. I have nothing to hide."

"No, Tharp, we're not. All the humans or all the creatures will die here. Not all of the beings in this room. And if all the humans die, Russ, then only creatures who mimic humans and wish them ill will fly out of here at dawn, to rampage through civilized lands. Comms being out is not a good thing, you idiot! They're smart enough to know that, they're smart enough to take care of the Duke's failsafe, too. Nobody's going to nuke this place from orbit. Only the humans in this room have the ability to protect humanity from monsters." It's suddenly easy to see that Sven belonged in academia as cold logic takes over.

"And Mike, you want evidence? Consider this: Robert and I screwed up and killed a human being. That helped the nunnlifs, right? They're getting closer to being able to take over, numerically speaking, because Robert and I screwed the pooch. So, who would want to repeat that same mistake? Either abysmally stupid humans, or nunnlifs who see their chance at eliminating two more of us. So if they put me in that chair and I don't change - and I won't - you'll have the evidence you need. The "people" so eager to destroy one of us aren't. People, I mean. You've got your evidence."

"Except, of course, that nobody would have been electrocuted had you let the vote stand, Jimmy. You didn't let Russ off the hook. You doomed Doc Wilkins. I fully admit I was wrong - the evidence shows that. But you were just as wrong. And I'm not going to compound my mistake with a hasty vote this time," Sven says quietly.

Sven still has cast no vote.

"What the heck is wrong with you, Duke? I haven't voted for anyone. Unlike you." Sven seems more puzzled than upset.

Sven stares at Duke Leto in disbelief. "The bodies of our comrades... friends we've lived with for weeks... nothing more than "messes" to you? An oil company executive and a janitor are of the same socio-economic status? And one person is a mob? Duke, you either have a skewed sense of morals or a skewed sense of arithmetic or a skewed sense of economics. Or both."

Sven nods, pale. "I... I suspected Jimmy, too. After all, what body did he clean up? The dead alien. He left the humans. Seems like the act of a nunnlif to me. But the last time I agreed with Robert, we killed a man. An innocent man. I don't know what to do."

"Yes, my foolhardiness only put us at more of a disadvantage, and poor Elora... multiple PhDs and pie crust to die for. Truly a woman of many talents. I wonder why the nunnlifs went after her?" Sven shakes his head and turns to Clive. "As for who I trust... ha. I trusted Elora and look what happened to her. I didn't trust Doctor Wilkins, and I was wrong. My nunnlif-dar is not reliable, that's for sure." He chuckles humorlessly. "In fact, I can't think of a better way to get somebody killed than by saying I trust them."

Sven rouses from his shock to help Mike with the sheeting. Though Elora's fate is horrid, he seems more distraught by Doctor Wilkins' death. "Let me help, Mike... I can't believe it. I was sure he was a creature. Ready to toss everyone into the electric chair at the drop of a hat to advance an ultimately self-destructive goal... wait a minute... he worked for an oil company! Naturally he was like that. He wasn't a monster, he was a normal capitalist! How could I be so stupid?"

He lays the sheet atop the Doctor's body and drops heavily into a chair. "Logic has failed me. My hands are red with the blood of an innocent. My PETA membership will probably be revoked... no, he was a human, not a lemur. They wouldn't care. But still, how can I possibly make this right? Impossible. Impossible. Why didn't any of you try to STOP us?"

Leaning forward, he speaks softly to the Doctor's body. "Wilkins, I swear to you, if I get out of this alive and have children, my firstborn will be named after you. It's the least I can do to keep your memory alive. Boy or girl, it'll still sound good. Doctor. Doctor Iscidea. For you."

"I have some suspicions. Russ isn't one of the suspects, in my mind. The guy who is so eager to start electrocuting people without any idea of what they are? That guy seems to be on the side of the nunnlifs, if there's any logic in his honorarily-degreed noggin."

Sven votes Doctor Wilkens.