What was this? That face? Some kind of gargoyle?

Tasìa crouched to get a closer view and frowned when she realized no birth defect produced such perfectly monstrous results.

Someone manipulated his genetic materials and that person did not give a damn how maladjusted to society he would turn out to be.

Tasìa did not know why, but she was taken back to the carnival set upon the ridge-way road.

Why that connection?

It was obvious. She knew as she gazed upon the lovely senorita who pointed to the carnival flyer, earlier that day, there was something not so pretty about the place. Carnivals had beautiful facades, but the art of their performative social existence always revealed an inner obscurant mystery. Often an ugly one.

Could there be another connection my intuition is calling out?

Val's PA vibrated against her tailbone.

"Demona?"

The face of Hellöiste lit up the screen.

"Hello, my dear. Could you satiate my curiosity and run a scan on your Lord's misbegotten creature there?"

That odd ending phrase gave Tasìa a moment of pause. Enchanted by the hyper-intelligent spook's machinations (or, she had to remind herself, the simulation of the dead woman) she had nearly forgotten that Demona was a diabolist. However, she could not afford to make an issue of it at the moment.

Tasìa hit all three options that Val's PA was capable - camera, IR scanner, and laser pulse. She stood up and waved the device over the monstrous body.

"Very well done. That specimen comes from my part of the world, though he is also a cousin of a sort to your own condition."

Tasìa winced in frustration. She shook a finger.

"Riddles, Demona! You are always speaking riddles!"

Demona chuckled.

"Of course. They are called Al-Majhul. They are also Harvested, but their creators had not even a whit of the compassion that your own doctors and scientists showed for you. They tested the absolute boundaries of the species' genomic condition. Such horrible people, they killed most of their preemie subjects, and kept a distinctive subset."

Tasìa frowned. Had she just killed one of her own?

Don't hate the gunslinger. You've never killed except in self-defense.

Demona interrupted her solemnity.

"Let's leave it at that, for now, okay? You have more pressing matters."

Tasìa shook her head and regained her composure.

"Indeed, I do. Were you aware of the presence of these - Al-Majhul?

"No. Not at all. Nor of the defensive measures they used on your friend. It appeared to be just an ordinary common spy blind. I have set up a few in my day, myself."

"Is Annebél still alive?"

"I should hope so. My IR scans from the satellite are not picking anything up, but they are not so fine-tuned that a cloud cover can't obscure their reach. Don't let that discourage you, even if she were, excuse my manière indélicate, dead she would still be giving off heat."

Tasìa nodded.

"No worries, I prefer that you are blunt. I'm on my way. Call me please if you have anything else."

She dropped the call and put the PA back in her fanny pocket.

Tasìa started to tread up the path covered in gnarled roots. She looked around, sweet undisturbed nature as far as the eye could see.

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What was she missing?

Without her even realizing it, Tasìa's breath tightened with regulated constriction.

The benevolent voice of her interior monologue began to speak.

- You assume it to be nature, but is it? It even fools the beast of the trees!

She realized that this bifurcation of her inner self that she has grown to casually accept was her analytics-mode, in separate function from the Modality.

That truth, at least, gave her some relief.

Tasìa breathed in slowly and filled her lungs. She held her breath and squinted hard as she looked around her environs.

Where do I find it? This seam line will reveal what? Yet another insane underlying condition to this bat-shit world?

El Mondo de Guano!

Tasìa stifled a chuckle so as not to interrupt the analysis her intuition was now playing out.

With more meditation on her part, it took a good moment for the answer to crystallize.

- Take your stiletto and stab a tree.

She looked in surprise at the trees that surrounded her.

Which one? Surely, this is not all fake?

The interior dialogue did not answer her question.

What of the exploding tree? What of the one Tasìa leaped and swung upon to dodge the little beast-man?

Of course, not the entirety of the surrounding woods were fake. Her intuition discovered a mere hint of what was occurring and articulated that bit of information back to her. She would have to do more work to uncover the rest of the puzzle.

Tasìa turned the IR scanner back on. Trees and natural foliage in the sunlight of the day were a brightly intense scarlet monochrome. A few dozen trees, amongst the others, were dull in tone, and the lighter coloration tended to be white and reflected electronic wire work within.

Tasìa shoved the PA into her back pocket. She walked up to the nearest mechanized tree, took her stiletto out of her left boot scabbard, and she stabbed the tree.

She was not sure what would happen but what did occur surpassed her expectations.

The trunk of the tree opened up like the twin doors of a cabinet, and cables thrust out it in an attempt to reach her. Tasìa jumped back and rolled out of its reach.

It appeared as if all the other mechanical trees activated as well with double sides to each letting out cables that probed along the deer paths, low to the ground. The cables had clinchers on them as if designed to grab intruders.

She kept an eye on the three mechanical trees nearest to her, and to her better advantage she slunk behind a small natural tree that had grown into a forked set of branches.

A pair of cables smacked up against the branches as it tried to work its way around toward Tasìa. There were no easy path going forward to stay out of their reach. Whatever direction she went she would have to go past at least a few of their clinchers.

Tasìa made a plan to get to a tree that rose above their cable extensions and climb it. In execution, she had to do a frontward roll and then slide down a small gully to get to it.

In Modality mode, it would be child's play, but she did not want to put her trust in that ability.

Tasìa sprinted up a nearby tree just past her natural height, twisted around, and thrust her body into the roll. Three cabled clinchers grabbed at her as she passed through them.

She folded down and rolled perfectly off of her shoulders as she landed. She prepared for her slide down the gulley incline when a clincher jerked her by her ankle.

Ah, shit!

Tasìa tried to hold on by a root that she slid against as the clincher pulled her towards a mechanical tree. The grip was beginning to stretch her out with her shoulder joints popping.

To avoid being drawn and quartered Tasìa let go of the root. The grip on her right ankle made it impossible to grab her Magellani .22 revolver.

She still held the stiletto in her hand, however. Tasìa had only a few seconds to find an effective use for it.

How to go daga chica on a mechanized tree?

There!

A set of white wires were exposed inside the tree whose clincher held onto her. They lead to an assembly of rotor controls.

Tasìa limberly pulled her arm back, aimed, and let the stiletto fly. It shredded into three of the wires. No dramatics of sparks, but the clincher let loose. She was close enough to reach in and grab the stiletto back into her hands.

Oh, if Ydreäs could have seen that move!

At the Daga Chica, they didn't throw darts for sport. They threw stilettos. Ydreäs was unrivaled.

She had no time to pat herself on the back. Tasìa scrambled down the slight gully indention that led to the giant natural tree. It gave her enough cover to pass beneath the snapping clinchers.

Her next move was a gamble but she had to try it. Tasìa broke out into a sprint towards the giant tree, clinchers tried to grab at her ankles. This time she jumped to avoid them and did so at the precise moment that she needed to escape their entanglement.

She leaped up on the tree and clenched at the bark, which provided her a solid grip to dart up past the reach of the cables.

Her lungs burned from the sprint. Tasìa was in the best of shape, but this was proving to be a chore. She couldn't rest even now, now that she had a good idea what happened to Annebél.

She grabbed Val's PA back out of her fanny pocket, hit the IR scanner, and watched the screen as she held it at arm's length. Tasìa slowly swung her arm in a tight arc aimed below.

She could make out the slight infrared trace around the body of a deer inside one of the mechanical trees.

It had not assumed the natural background temperature as of yet, so it must have been caught no later than earlier that morning.

Smart.

The Al-Majhul apparently used the mechanical trees primarily for game traps. Anyone caught snooping into their affairs was likely just an additional bonus.

Tasìa continued her search. Up on the hill just a few yards off from the blind platform where the cameras sat, she found a mechanical tree and the body of a highly feminine and tall person captured inside it.

Tasìa heart jumped, she squealed and happily peed herself ever-so-slightly when she saw the figure writhing in a struggle against her bonds

Hold on, dearie Annebél, I'm coming!