by Elin Wyn
“Long ago back on Earth a bunch of guys sat around and asked questions that appeared to have simple answers but were really far more complicated than originally anticipated. Even with all of our advancements, we still can’t answer most of them.”
“Such as?”
“My favorite has always been what is the true reality? If a group of people simultaneously witness the same event, each has a slightly different perception. Which one is the true one?”
“Excellent,” the Puppet Master hummed.
“What is?”
“The answer you seek is found in the question itself.”
And that’s how I learned the Puppet Master enjoyed philosophy.
Chapter 2
Jalok
Toe to heel, Cazak and I crept up on our unwary prey. Looming, half rebuilt buildings hemmed us in on either side, making our task all the more dangerous.
The two of us were supposed to be on patrol, checking for any glaring structural issues and making sure the anti-alienists weren’t lurking about Nyheim proper. Ever since the unrest during the election and the attack on the Puppet Master, command was extra paranoid about even the slightest problem. All three Strike teams found themselves utilized for even routine patrols such as the one we were sent upon that day.
“Do you see it?” Cazak spoke in a low tone, because a whisper can carry much further in the dark than one would suspect. I squinted, peering in the gloom, until I saw a flash of light behind a rubbish bin. A spindly leg splayed out as a deer-like creature rooted about for scraps.
“Yeah. It’s a tiny one.”
“Even small ones can be a threat, especially to a civilian.”
Grunting, I drew my side arm. The sleek pistol had been painted unreflective black, making it perfect for urban stealth ops. It seems like overkill for such a tiny, delicate seeming creature. Luurizi, however, could be known as vicious creatures that could easily kill a human. Or even a Valorni. The little shits would charge at damn near anything, and their feet were so sharp they could pierce all but the highest grade armor plating.
Even my innate sheath of scales wouldn’t prove sufficient against its attack. I deployed them anyway, because sometimes the hollow rail gun rounds could ricochet after impact. Cazak grinned, flexing his own scales into view but he still ducked behind the corner of a building for cover.
“Coward,” I spoke in a low voice as I creep up for a better shot.
“Don’t talk to me that way. Who was it who recommended your transfer from the Ground Team to Strike Team Three? Show some gratitude.”
“Yeah, thanks for getting me this sweet gig where I kill fairytale creatures in the most gruesome manner possible. In the dark. In the middle of the night—“
“Are you going to talk it to death?”
“You’ve been trying to do that to me for years.”
The Luurizi’s head popped up, focusing its gaze in our direction. Our voices had grown louder during the exchange, it seemed. With a shrill cry akin to broken glass, it galloped across the pavement.
“Now look at what you’ve done.”
I didn’t have time for a retort. The Luurizi loped ever faster, then drove its forelegs into the ground. Its back legs gathered together with the front, and then it bunched up its body and sprang, all in the matter of a split second.
My gaze tracked its flight, and I aimed my pistol for its midsection. One squeeze of the trigger, and the creature exploded in midair, showering me with bits of bone and gooey tissue.
“Srell.” Wiping myself clean, I staggered back onto the main thoroughfare while Cazak laughed hysterically.
“Come on, hero. Patrol’s over. Let’s go grab some beverages.”
Grumbling, I fell into step beside him. We headed toward the towering buildings of the city proper, where the damage had already been largely repaired.
“Things sure have been crazy lately.”
I glanced over at Cazak, and noted his worried frown.
“Yes, it’s been hectic for a while, and I don’t see it calming down anytime soon.”
“This is a strange place to be a Skotan. Cooperating with other races instead of dominating them.”
The words bubbled out of my mouth before I could really consider them.
“Do you ever think we’ll find a way to get back home?”
“We’re going to stop at the pub first, I told you—“
“No, I mean, the homeworld.”
Cazak’s jaw worked silently, and I could feel the longing from him as well.
“I don’t know. Maybe they can figure out a way to open a rift to get us home, someday.”
“If we’re allowed to use rifts again.”
“True.”
We walked in silence, our destination locked in for the recreational district. There we would find a pub friendly to us soldier types, where you can be around other people who got it, even if they weren’t Skotan. Cazak and I ordered some drinks and sat down at a booth. I barely tasted my drink, and I doubt he enjoyed his own much more.
“I’d like to go home, someday.”
Cazak looked over at me and shrugged as if it doesn’t matter, though I knew it did.
“What’s the matter, don’t like this place?”
“Well, it’s not that. I’m certainly not a xenophobe like the anti-alienists. It’s just that—on the homeworld, we belonged. Here, we’ll never really fit in. Or at least, that’s’ what it feels like.”
“If you were back home, you would probably be on a ship fighting the Xathi.”
“That’s where I want to be.” I took a long pull from the bottle, and set the half empty vessel down. “I belong in battle, fighting an enemy I can see, not having to worry about pissing off a giant space lettuce or having some invisible non corporeal being root around in my brain and make me a meat suit.”
“The Xathi are terrifying, Jalok. Worse than any of that, if you ask me.”
“Well, I didn’t ask you, did I? Fighting is what I do. Soldiering is what I was made for. Cooling my heels on this planet while our brothers and sisters die fighting those damn bugs is torture.”
“Look at it this way.” Rokul spread his hands out, as if encompassing the galaxy between them. “They’re at home, fighting for the good of Skotans everywhere, and we’re here, fighting for the good of Skotans—and humans and K’ver and all the rest. You can’t be everywhere at once. But you can make a difference right here.”
“Yeah, but we’re not supposed to be here. That’s all I’m saying. Everything is wrong about this planet. The others might love it, but Skotan are supposed to spend most of our time in high gravity.”
“Yes, but that makes us stronger here, and gives us greater mass.”
“That’s true, but our hearts evolved to beat against a much stronger G force. I was reading a briefing from the science office about concerns that our hearts might beat too quickly and lead to a risk of cardiovascular disease.”
Rokul snorted, and flashed an uncaring glare my way.
“You think too much. Look at you, you’re a freaking walking tank and you want to read science reports? You should be balancing a sweet scaly thing on each one of those massive guns when you hit the sack tonight. Instead you want to act like a galaxy class nebbish.”
“I find science interesting. What else am I supposed to do to pass my off time?”
“Drinking and screwing, you ignoramus. You’re with Strike Team Three now. We’re the best of the best of the best!”
He slapped me hard on my shoulder, and I let the matter drop.
We trudged on for a time without speaking. At length Cazak glanced over and punched me on the arm.
“Hey, if you want to feel less homesick, you could practice the traditional songs.”
“There’s so little time. Besides, Skotan ballads were meant to be sung on the Skotan homeworld. They just don’t sound the same any place else.”
That ended the debate, for now. All I knew at the time was, while many of our new a
llies are good people, I just wanted to go back where I belonged.
Chapter 3
Dottie
“We have a big day ahead of us today,” I announced as I settled into a comfortable sitting position inside the tunnel.
“You say that every time,” the Puppet Master replied telepathically.
“Because it’s true every time,” I countered.
Sitting on the dirt with my back against one of the Puppet Master’s vines, I started setting up my equipment. I carefully attached tiny neuro-monitors to the flesh of the vine.
“Did that hurt?”
“Did what hurt?” The Puppet Master replied.
“Never mind.”
My equipment was acceptable, but it wasn’t top of the line. I only got the top of the line stuff if I checked it out from the Nyhiem lab. I knew that some of the aliens traveled through what were essentially portals but that method of travel wasn’t available to the average scientist yet. If I wanted to go to Nyhiem, I’d have to go the old-fashioned way. That wasn’t something I wanted to do. It’d cut into my time with the Puppet Master
“A wise choice,” the Puppet Master whispered to my consciousness.
“You can read my thoughts even if I’m not attempting to directly commune with you?”
“You’ve made physical contact once.” A tendril tapped me on the shoulder and pointed to the vine I leaned up against. “Once direct contact is made, a link between our minds is forged forever. As long as you are in my vicinity, I’m listening and can reply.”
“Is that how you commune with the living trees?” I asked.
“No,” he sighed. “They don’t possess enough sentience to forge a stable connection.”
“Then how did you direct them a few months ago?”
“I,” the Puppet Master started to explain, then halted. “I do not know how to answer that. It is similar to if I asked you how you breathe or how you think. I perform the action without thought.”
“Interesting.” I tapped my chin with a stylus. “I have an idea.”
“What’s that?”
“We’re going to do an experiment.”
I pushed myself up from the ground and brushed the dirt off the seat of my pants. Motioning for the Puppet Master to follow me, in whatever way he was capable of doing so, I walked out of the tunnel. The earth around my feet shifted as I walked as the Puppet Master’s vines extended out.
I climbed out of the crater. Halfway up, I lost my footing. It wasn’t a far fall but the Puppet Master burrowed up vines to catch me anyway.
“Thanks.” I gave the vine a pat.
Once out of the crater, I walked through a copse of trees into the forest. Since the Xathi invasion, creature populations dropped considerably. Walking through the forest was a death wish before. Now, it was just highly unrecommended.
I stopped in a small clearing. Thanks to the Puppet Master and the efforts of dedicated citizens, the forest had grown back. It wasn’t what it used to be. I could still see chunks of sky through the canopy and most of the trees still had tinges of brown death on their trunks. It was progress, though. The forest would be in top shape in no time.
The Puppet Master’s vines rose out of the earth beside me. I reached out and pressed my palm against one.
“It’s my duty to advise you that being here is unwise,” the Puppet Master warned.
“Why? I have the ultimate protection.” I gave the vines another pat.
“What sort of experiment are you trying to perform?”
“I’m going to attract one of the sentient trees. You’re going to stop it from attacking me. While you do that, you’re going to tell me everything you’re thinking and feeling.”
“Thinking is an inaccurate term for what I do.”
“I know but I’m human, remember? Limited understanding of beings and brains bigger than my own. Now, will you do this?”
The Puppet Master went silent for a few moments.
“A Durindium is already on your scent,” he stated.
“A what?”
Before the Puppet Master could respond, a creature leaped down from the canopy above. Its body was long, lean, and feline in proportions. Sharp obsidian talons dug into the earth as it landed. Its face looked avian with a sharp, bony beak. Around its neck was a fan of growths that looked like thick flower petals. It reminded me of a lion’s mane
It eyed me with its split pupil stare and let out a shriek that made my ears ring.
“Find a way to stop it from attacking me.” My voice shook as I spoke.
“Its willpower is substantial,” the Puppet Master replied.
The Durindium slowly circled me. I pivoted, keeping my body square with its body. It was looking for a weak point, a good place to pounce.
“Is willpower a key factor in determining how you control another creature?” I kept my voice steady. Focusing on the experiment would help keep my fear under control. I had a feeling the Durindium could smell fear.
“Yes. Right now, I’m negotiating with the Durindium’s essence, it’s soul if you will,” he explained.
The Durindium snapped it’s beak and hissed.
“It doesn’t look like it’s going well.”
“It’s not.”
“Why would you tell me that,” I whimpered.
The Durindium swiveled to face me head on. It lowered its haunches in preparation to spring forward right at me.
“Now would be a good time to wrap up negotiations,” I pleaded.
The Puppet Master didn’t answer.
A wave of doubt washed over me. What if the Puppet Master wasn’t my friend at all? What if he was still an enemy of the humans at heart?
The Durindium leaped forward. I closed my eyes and curled myself downward as if that would protect me from its slashing talons. I heard it’s feet land on the forest floor but no impact came. It’s hot breath whipped through my hair.
Against my better judgment, I looked up. I was face to face with the Durindium, my nose less than an inch from its protruding beak.
I raised a shaking hand and touched the Puppet Master’s vines.
“So,” I gulped. “The negotiations went well?”
“I convinced the creature that eating you will bring on my wrath,” the Puppet Master supplied.
Guilt hit me. I shouldn’t have doubted him.
“Can you walk me through your process? I was too busy being terrified the first time.”
“Certainly.”
The Puppet Master must’ve done something to the Durindium because it suddenly let out a yelp and darted back into the forest. I released the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.
At the Puppet Master’s insistence, I agreed to go back to the safety of the crater. Once I was seated with my equipment once more, the Puppet Master began his explanation.
“What occurs between myself and another lifeform cannot be accurately put into your human vernacular,” he started. “However, I’ll do my best. My lifeforce pulses through this planet like a network of rivers. All lifeforms on this planet drink from my rivers. Parts of me are parts of them. Do you understand?”
“I do.” I recorded a few notes in my field datapad and nodded for the Puppet Master to keep going.
“I control my lifeforce, even the parts that are in other lifeforms. My lifeforce becomes their lifeforce. When I take control of another creature, I’m simply taking control of my own life force.”
“Why was is harder to control the Durindium than it is to control the sentient trees?” I asked.
“The Durindium is an active hunter, a strategist. Its intelligence is greater than that of the sentient trees. It’s clever enough to detect an outside force in its mind and fight against it. The one that attacked you was also desperate. Its natural prey populations are far too small.”
“I understand.” I took down more notes. “Could you’ve used vines to directly manipulate the Durindium?”
“If I’d planted one of my seeds within the Durindi
um, I could have. However, it’s more likely that would’ve killed the Durindium. The sentient trees make excellent hosts since they are closer to plants than animals. They are infinitely simpler than creatures like the Durindium, who are more like animals than plants.”
“Is that why you can’t control humans or aliens?”
“I never said I can’t control them. If I were to try, it would take a great deal of energy and it would be a lengthy battle for control. You humans and your alien friends have my lifeforce within you. You take it in every time you eat a plant or an animal from the forest.”
“I appreciate that you’ve never tried to take over my brain,” I chuckled.
“Brain is inaccurate,” the Puppet Master corrected. “But since I can’t draw a more apt parallel, you’re welcome for not taking over your brain.”
With a laugh, I checked the neuro-monitors I hooked up before. The monitors recorded great spikes of energy during the time of my ill-planned experiment. My field equipment couldn’t fully analyze the spikes so I send them over to my lab back in Kaster. If I couldn’t complete a satisfactory analysis there, I’d have to send it to the lab in Nyhiem.
“If a creature came from somewhere else, but took in your life force, would you be able to exert control over it?” I asked.
“Yes, with one exception.”
“Which is?”
“My race doesn’t have a proper name for them. Millennia ago, when there were more of us and we were able to communicate, we called them the Ancient Enemies. They were older than us, more powerful than us, and capable of siphoning out lifeforce until there was nothing left.”
“How awful.” I made note of this new, unsettling information. “What else can you tell me about them?”
“Nothing.” The Puppet Master sounded mournful. “That’s all I know. My race never learned how to combat them. We never discovered where they were from or what their purpose was, other than stealing our lives.”
“Is that something we should be worried about?”
“They haven’t been active for thousands of years. I suspect they’ve moved on to a more plentiful galaxy.”
I entered this new information into my notes. Somehow, the Puppet Master’s words didn’t bring me comfort.
