The Dance Eternal

ch 28 & 29

28

Below the sands of the desert planet, Nove'iti III, Ta let out a low, deep purring sound that vibrated the traveler in her seat, but the ride was otherwise smooth, considering that they were burrowing underground. The sound that issued from the beast's partially-opened maw rippled the air in a cone ahead, and pushed dirt, sand and rock away as if swept by a broom, only to collapse back into place as the beast passed. Dia researchers has studied for years the Oar'vaor's burrowing abilities, and had concluded, amid much head-scratching, that they produced a temporary sub-dimensional effect with their sonic rumbling.

Within moments, Ta's burrowing opened a hole into a natural cavern that she carefully dropped into, so as not to jar the cabin too much. Expansive and wide, but not very tall, the ceiling was just high enough to clear the top of the cabin, and mostly dark save for the patches of phosphorus mushrooms that sprouted here and there, casting pools of pale green-white throughout. Natural columns connected the floor to the ceiling with haphazard spacing, and the traveler, scanning from behind the screen over the cabin, could see a definite wall to their left.

Ta started walking, almost casually, angling parallel along the visible wall, winding a little to avoid stomping on occasional clusters of mushrooms. The traveler released the ends of the harness and pressed a button that retracted the screen, giving a clearer view of the cave. She retrieved a rifle from the ledge above the bench seat; it looked large and unwieldy, was almost as long as she was tall, and was heavily ornate, with curves, soft angles and silver-inlay detailing from the butt of the stock to the flared compensator at the tip of its slender barrel, but she handled the weapon with the ease of long familiarity.

She settled back onto the bench, watching ahead as she almost absently slid the round clip from its mounting and ran her thumb along the outside face, counting the shells in her head; her eyes never stopped scanning the cave ahead, sweeping slowly from one pool of 'shroom-light to the next. She slid the magazine back into the rifle with a soft click, then it spun with a low whir for a second before stopping. A small light blinked amber on the top over the trigger, signaling that the first round was chambered – the process took less than a second.

They rounded a bend, and she saw a marking on the wall; the Twin Suns surrounded by a ring of stars. She recognized it as an old sigil her people once used to mark their way through these cave networks. A little further ahead, her thoughts were confirmed; evidence of an old camp in a widening part of the cavern. A stream flowed through, pouring from a head-sized hole in the wall a couple feet above the floor, and into a small basin that the water had eroded over time. A natural spout created the stream across the back side of the chamber, and into the opposite wall through another small opening.

Short stalactites hung above, and the back wall was covered with the glowing mushrooms, casting a bright illumination throughout. Stones sat in a loose circle, marking a campfire, and a wooden dais, several feet squared, stood against one wall. It was well-constructed, even a bit ornate, with small carvings on the decorative knots at the corners, but the wood was showing signs of rot due to the proximity to an open water source. This structure, she remembered, served as a place for travelers to sleep, without having to lay on the cold stone. A collection of small crates sat between the dais and the stream.

'This was a supply stop,' the traveler thought. Before their travel options had improved and expanded, the Dia had explored and mapped thousands of leagues of underground caverns; one could travel for weeks under the desert, never having to tread on the sand until they reached their destination. That was so long ago, before the Dia advanced to space travel, and several generations before her time – this campsite had to be hundreds of cycles old.

Of course, the Dia were also said to be much shorter, and very pale; the very idea was considered preposterous by many, but the traveler, looking at the ancient remnants of her people's presence, could see how that would be the case.

A low rumble from above shook her back to the present, and knocked loose a thin stalactite that fell and shattered on the floor to the right next to the stream, sending water in a spray across the fungus on the wall. Several more followed suit with a second rumble, the crackling of breaking stone echoing through the cavern, and causing Ta to step quickly to get past the larger cavern.

They attempt to burrow in sand with explosives. The thought came to her in a rasp like cascading sand. Though is sounded creepy, it bore no malice, and was stated rather casually.

'Ha, stupid,' she thought in response to the presence she'd known since her maturing more than twenty cycles ago. 'But we should not stick around.”

She urged Ta to go a little faster, and the creature increased its speed to a brisk walk; fast enough to make good time, but still slow enough to navigate the cavern without injury. Most men would be at a fast trot to keep up, and would tire long before this creature.

The traveler relaxed a bit, resting the rifle on her lap, and pulled a small stone from a pouch on her belt. It was about as big around as her hand, heavy, and had the appearance of being worked, but she was unsure of what substance it was made. She turned the disc-shaped stone in her gloved fingers gently; it vibrated in her hands with a power that tingled at the edge of her mind, and made her thankful that the gloves seemed to be helping to insulate her. The illumination from a patch of hanging mushrooms overhead caught in a series of grooves, and her breath caught. She tilted the stone in slight shifts of angle until she was able to see most of a symbol that was carved on the surface of the stone.

“Ta, I think we need to get back, and fast.”

29

“So, what do you think,” John asked, sitting in the captain's seat aboard Celeste with his left leg over the arm, “can we trust them?”

After the getaway and Sid's tour, the two men had sat in the common room of the Celeste for a bit, just chatting while she quietly listened. Even at this point, John had still not told them everything about her. That chat had been cut short when Jor came in with news that they were exiting warp. John felt a little uneasy under the big humanoid's glare (and he seemed to be constantly glaring), and shifted a little, trying to be nonchalant. Sid left to see to that, and John all-too-cheerfully elected to stay and “see to maintenance”.

Celeste was silent, as if in thought for a moment, then, “I believe that we can, at least in terms of these 'O-PAT' people. Out of everything that I have found on the organization, the most notable opinion seems to be that they are little better than uniformed thugs. The common opinion's words, not mine.”

John made a noise of agreement as he took a sip of coffee, gazing out through the ship's window at the cargo bay. A pair of Sid's robots were busy with some maintenance operation across the bay, working at equipment inside a floor panel.

“John,” Celeste said after a minute, “there is something about earlier – I wanted to wait until we were alone to say anything.”

He sat upright, holding his mug between his hands, noting the concern in her tone, “What's up?”

“While the patrol ship pursued us... I detected... something...” Her hesitation was both a little troubling, and a bit exciting; she truly had advanced as a sentience. He figured that Goriah had a hand in that, but knew that she was well on her way even before they launched.

“Go on, it's okay, Celeste,” he gently urged.

“Someone on that ship has a symbiote.”

“A 'symbiote'?” John had a notion what she meant, but wanted to be sure.

“Like Goriah,” she said a little more quietly.

He froze. Another like Goriah? How many of these symbiotes existed in the universe? Were they an actual species, or some kind of genetic offshoot? Or an evolution? He sighed and pushed aside the mental barrage of questions. He kind of felt a little silly for being so surprised – how much had Earth's humanity truly known of the universe before he left? He was still getting over the fact that there were humans out here.

“I guess it stands to reason that there would be more – the universe is a lot bigger than Earth, right? We'll just have to be prepared in case we have to face one as an enemy.

I have a feeling it will come to that if we ever run into that ship again.” He was unsure as he spoke whether he was trying to reassure himself or Celeste, but is seemed to have a positive effect.

“Agreed,” Celeste happily chimed, then more seriously, “there is something else.”

When she didn't immediately elaborate, he prompted, “Go on.”

“There is another...” She was hesitating again, and he could tell she was nervous. As he was about to prompt her again, she continued, “There is another, on this ship.”

“What?” John snapped to a fully attentive posture, “Who? Wait... Sid?” He had thought he felt something, a little... twitch... when he first met the man. It just had not occurred to him until she mentioned it just now.

“Yes,” she replied, confirming his suspicion. “I did not notice immediately, but when I did, it was a definite.”

“Have you made contact with his... symbiote?”

“It seems... guarded. He seems a relatively honest man, but he has kept that secret even from Jor, I believe. I think he might fear it.”

“Did you get a name?”

“It would not say. I may have been hasty – I was... excited... to meet another so closely.”

John nodded slowly; he was getting the impression that their kind was a far-flung species, and meeting others was an uncommon occurrence at best. Then again, there was Celeste's Goriah, his own, the one on the O-PAT ship, and Sid...

“Celeste,” he asked a bit abashedly.

“Yes, John?”

“Can I talk to Goriah?” He hoped that it was not a rude question. Then again, it kind of made him think of asking a person with multiple personalities to speak to one of those in particular.

Yes, John, came a slightly deeper version of Celeste's voice, lilting near the corner of his mind where his own symbiote seemed to spend his days – it was currently silent, and seemed to be hiding for some reason. I am Goriah. It is a pleasure to talk with you personally.

“Same,” said John, trying not to laugh at the thought, 'I'm having a social in my head.'

John, I am sorry about Steve. He was a good human, and I am better for my time with him. He taught me a great deal, including about your species. The statement was delivered with absolute sincerity, which he returned.

“Yes, he was a good man. I wish I'd have known him longer,” John said.

I hope you won't feel put upon, but I wonder if I can I ask about your symbiote?

John was a little taken aback, especially after his own thoughts about this conversation, but he recovered quickly. “You can ask. I don't know if I'll have an answer, though.”

What is his name? I would introduce myself, but he seems.. reluctant... to speak.

John turned his thoughts inward, seeking to rouse the presence. From the little corner it had taken as a residence, he finally got an answer.

Yes?

'Hey there,' he greeted, as if to an old friend, 'You've been in my head for a bit now, shouldn't you tell me about yourself? You have a name, right?'

A silent pause stretched for half an eternity before the symbiote finally responded.

Ravat.

'Well, Ravat,' John thought jovially, 'welcome officially to my head.'

A warm sensation of thanks came from the presence, then it went tepid, accompanied with a tremble. Please, do not make me talk.

“Goriah, I'm sorry,” John said aloud, “He is not wanting to talk. But his name is Ravat.”

The air in the bridge suddenly went cold, and the lights dimmed and flickered. The window darkened as if the lights in the cargo bay had been turned off, and a blue shimmering appeared at the front of the bridge, near the spot where Steve's body had been.

As John snapped to his feet, his empty coffee mug fell and shattered on the floor, while Ravat's trembling was about to rattle John's brain loose. A small wave of dizziness threatened to shake his balance, but was gone quickly.

“.. ava...” Goriah's voice echoed in the chamber, ghostly and sounding somewhat digitized. “Ravat,” she called again, more clearly. “It is Goriah-hijia. You remember?” Remember, Ravat.” She faded out, her words echoing a couple of times. The blue cloud wavered, then winked out in an instant, leaving a few tiny motes until they too were gone. In the same instant, John's head went into a dizzy tailspin as Ravat flew into a wild frenzy. His eyes went blank, no longer seeing the bridge, but in his vision flashed images; faces, some human – others most definitely not, blinked in rapid succession.

Suddenly, the ship rocked as if by some kind of impact. He stumbled and grabbed blindly at the railing in front of the nearby console. His brain felt like it was rotating in his skull, throwing-off his balance further, and his hand missed the rail; he toppled forward as the film-strip of images faded, and he landed face-down in an unconscious sprawl.