Jeremy stopped just before the break room to look deeper into that landscape. In the last few days he had seen workers clearing out the brambles and undergrowth that grew from between the knotted roots. When there was something threatening to taint the photo opportunities, the council was pretty quick to get someone out to tend to the problem. So then, when he reached for the monocular in his pocket and peered into the shadows of that darken wilds, he saw the brambles overgrown and rotten wood hanging from the branches. Something a landscaper with the planet’s most powerful people breathing down their neck wouldn't have missed. The ranger might not have been much of a gardener, but he had lived on Barthrone long enough to know no plants would sprout to full in a single night.

 

It shouldn’t be significant. What was to be worried about lazy workers and unkempt forest ground? Nothing, to most people. He knew nature twisted in the presence of unholy activity. The unnerving quiet of the past month was now beyond tolerance and that was enough for Jeremy to decide he would break rank. He was willing to take the consequences on this one.

 

“Planning something dangerous are we, little one?” A voice spoke through his comms, a seemingly sweet tone like a mother to a child. Jeremy felt a shudder down his spine as the slightly tinny voice invaded his ears. It was the base’s AI, a meticulous guardian in charge with maintaining the everyday life and coordination of the soldiers stationed there. She rubbed a lot of people here the wrong way. “You shouldn’t stray too far from everyone else.”

 

“I’m just going for a walk, Matilda,” Jeremy retorted, heading back toward the coffee machine to fulfill his quest. A walk with a high bore carbine in the middle of a forest of deadly monsters, the ranger thought to himself.

 

“Besides, it seems your garden is getting out of hand.” He played to the AI’s weird fascination with plants, something most people had first assumed was a ploy. Something to get herself implanted someplace outside of the main city. But after years of working with her she had never dropped it. The question became if it was her intention to get as way away from the council, or the other way around. She often referred to the base as her “garden” and the people in it as flowers. A joke had passed around that she intended to mulch them once they gotten too old.  A joke that lost a lot of its humor when Lieutenant Jenkins lost his leg when he was nearly dragged into a grinder meant to destroy Mystic bodies. A grinder that took three people to move the safety door.

 

“Is it now, Sunflower? That is concerning,” she replied, although her tone sounded more amused than anything. “I couldn’t tell, it’s hard to see outside of the base when you’ve disconnected me from the defense grid.”

 

“Last time we asked for fire support, you hit our position,” Jeremy reminded, trying not to raise his voice above it. Only Bob had been hurt from it, losing his left hand’s middle finger from shot a week after he responded to Matilda calling him a stink weed with it.

 

“I was so worried my little flowers would be overrun and trampled. You can’t blame me for caring,” she said with a barely regretful tone, and the dirty blonde could imagine her saying it with a grin.

 

“So you’re not going to let me go?” He asked, moving away from the song and dance.

 

“I just couldn’t bare to see you go and disappear. What meaning would my life have without my favorite sunflower in my life?”

 

“What if I reconnect you to the defense grid?” Jeremy offered, even as his spine chilled for thinking that. If Matilda was smiling before, it would have grown to be showing far more teeth.

 

“I think that could be possible.”

 

--

 

Jeremy left through the garage entrance with only a touched-in-the-head AI knowing where he was, his gear, and a vague idea that something was wrong. He checked his carbine for the third time by the time he breached the edge of the forest, and found that it was still loaded and working. Same as last time. He twiddled with the knob on his radio, making sure it was powered before quickly turning it off before anyone else noticed. This broke every code he knew, that had been drilled in his head since day one. And if he didn’t die some horrible death with what’s left of him caught between the teeth of some insane creature, he’d be returning with a earful from command and he could not blame them one bit. But if he was wrong, it would at least take a load off everyone’s mind. And if he was right? well, he hoped he’d at least have enough time to report what he saw before it saw him.

 

Deeper into the bush he went, hands gripped white-knuckle tight to his weapon. He knew what danger he was in. Mystics weren’t like animals. They didn’t mark territory that you could find, they didn’t hiss or howl to warn you if you got too close. The only warning you had was a horrible smell like something had died, or a streak of unnatural colors before some viscera-encrusted beast or thrashing vine was upon you like a rocket, bee-lining to the closest human to rend them into gore. Even with a squad of trained men and women on the ground, over watched by drone or aircraft, there was a real risk of someone getting killed.

 

This was suicide.

 

“You should get a few samples while you’re out, Sunflower.” He heard Matilda in his ear again, burning away some of the ranger’s patience. He needed to not be distracted, and here she was barging in without warning or care. “I’m sure you’ll find something interesting out there to bring home!”

 

Jeremy didn’t respond - he wasn’t going to announce his position telling the AI off when he was already a wrong turn away from dying. He turned the radio off, and if she was going to lose control for it then she’d only have herself to blame when tech support unplugged her again.