by Renard, Loki
A deep vibration reverberated through the ground, heralding the beginning of the ceremony. Everybody stopped what they were doing and stared toward the front of the stage as if hypnotized as the music and drumming rose around them. The plants at the front of the stage began to rustle with the rhythm, as if it were too much even for rooted creatures to handle.
The music was strange, but alluring. There was a deep thrumming that seemed to come from under the very ground on which they stood, and then atop it were the higher notes, cymbals and bells and above that, super soprano tones singing arias of eye-watering splendor.
Faith let out a little scream as they rose to feet… plants… who were… people? They began to dance to the music, their motions complex and energetic. There were at least fifty of them, and they moved in concert in a way Faith found enthralling and completely disturbing.
She had truly taken them for shrubbery at the front of the stage, but it was obvious now that these were Svari dancers wearing some kind of costume. It was a curious, unsettling, but mesmerizing sight, the way the leaves moved with the dancers, syncopated beats causing them to ripple and sway with mad organic frenzy. Here and there it was possible to catch sight of the person beneath them, skin green, eyes flashing yellow. Faith was simultaneously fascinated and frightened. The dancers were beautiful, but there was something about them that sent shivers down her spine. It wasn’t natural to see plants moving the way these ones did.
“Those costumes…”
She spoke as the music began to fade. An hour had passed and she had barely noticed it. The music had carried her through time and the dancers had entertained every part of her mind so thoroughly that she was sad to see them go.
All around them, the Svari were packing up and beginning to return to their homes. They had sated expressions on their faces, as if some appetite Faith had not understood now had been satisfied.
“…are amazing.”
“They’re not costumes,” Serkan said, helping her to stand. “The dancers drink a brew which contains a fungus. As it takes hold, it makes the foliage sprout all over their bodies. It is an honor to become one of the sacred dancers. There are no more than a hundred at any time, and as they age, their leaves turn from bright green to golden orange and finally wither away and begin to fall. What is left is not a body, but a…”
“Stump?”
“Statue,” Serkan finished his sentence. “They are quite beautiful.”
“You have a weird idea of what constitutes beautiful.”
“Beauty is subjective,” Serkan agreed. “There can be beauty in sadness and grief…”
“No, there can’t,” Faith argued, scowling furiously at the suggestion that being sad was something to celebrate. “That’s the sort of stupid trite bullshit people say when they want to pretend everything is okay when it isn’t.”
“You’re angry,” he noted, his brow quirking at her.
“I’m angry because you’re saying stupid things.”
“Is that it? Or are you angry because you’re sad and can’t see the beauty in it?”
“Go to hell.”
She had seen enough of this planet. Nobody seemed to notice how plain wrong it was here. Sure, it was peaceful and there didn’t seem to be any crime, but at what cost? Those amazing dancers were people who had been poisoned into growing foliage, and dying like trees. That couldn’t be okay.
She wanted to be back in familiar surroundings, even if those surroundings were a virtual prison. Serkan’s hand wrapped around her arm before she could take so much as a step away and he pulled her back down. She pushed away from him, but he didn’t let her go. He kept a grip on her arm, pulling her closer to him and tipping her face up toward him so that she was forced to meet his knowing silvery gaze.
“What is it, Faith?”
“I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to talk about anything,” Faith said. “Just leave me alone, alright?”
A soft cough interrupted their argument. One of the officers of Ephemera was standing behind them. Faith had no idea how much of their fight he had heard. She didn’t really care either.
“What is it?”
Serkan surprised her by being incredibly blunt with the man. That was not his usual demeanor. He must be angrier than he was showing.
“I am here on council business. Ephemera wants to see the alien,” the officer replied equally curtly.
“I will escort her directly,” Serkan said, stepping forward so Faith was behind him. There was a measure of protectiveness to his behavior. He seemed reluctant to let any of the other Svari anywhere near her, something Faith found a little bit charming and a little bit concerning at the same time.
“Ephemera wishes a private audience,” the officer clarified.
“Is such a thing wise? She has received several treatments, but I believe it will be months before…”
“Ephemera wills it.”
There it was, the ace in the Svari hole. Say Ephemera willed something and you could do whatever you wanted. Faith snorted as the officer walked away, satisfied that his orders would be obeyed.
“I don’t want to see her,” Faith complained.
“You’re going,” Serkan said, turning around to face her fiercely. “You’re going and you’re going to make a good impression or I will make an impression on your ass. I promise you that.”
He was tense again. He got tense every time Ephemera was mentioned, and super tense every time they got near the chamber where the glowy fairy floated. Faith really didn’t understand it. If the council was so wise and wonderful, why did everyone seem to fear them?
“Fine,” she sighed. “It’s not like we have a choice, do we.”
“You don’t have a choice,” Serkan agreed. He took her by the hand and drew her toward the elevator at the base of the council building. In a matter of moments, they were standing outside Ephemera’s chambers.
“Be good,” he said as he nudged her toward the grand doors that crept open just enough to allow her through. With one last glance back at Serkan’s stern face, Faith stepped into the room and the doors closed behind her. It was just as overwhelming as she remembered it, a space that seemed too big to bear, and a presence that filled it easily. Ephemera came toward her with a gliding motion and stopped several feet away, hands folded before her.
“Hello, human,” Ephemera intoned in a voice that made Faith feel as though warm butter was melting through her entire body. “How are your days passing? Are you coming to enjoy living with the Svari?”
Faith bit her tongue, knowing that Serkan would be angry and disappointed if she caused trouble with Ephemera.
“It’s… nice,” she said guardedly. She kept her eyes directed toward the floor, both to avoid the glare coming from Ephemera and to hide the expression on her face.
“Nice,” Ephemera repeated. “Yes, it is nice.”
There was what could only be described as an awkward pause.
“Serkan wanted me to tell you that I was learning my lesson,” Faith added, breaking the silence.
“But that is not what you are going to tell me.”
“No,” Faith said, lapsing into honesty. “I’m going to tell you that I hate it here and that I want to go back home. I’m going to tell you that taking his ship from him was stupid. He’s one of the best people I’ve ever known. He cares more about me than he should, and he definitely cares more about you than he should. I can’t do what you want me to do. I can’t be what you need me to be. So send me back to Earth and let one of the women who wants him so badly have him.”
There was a pregnant pause in which the great creature seemed to consider Faith’s words.
“You are progressing well,” Ephemera said. “Serkan’s treatment must be working.”
“Didn’t you hear what I said?”
“Every word.”
Faith chanced a glance upwards. Ephemera’s irritatingly wise face held an expression of benevolent calm that made Faith want to smash something.
She’d liked it better when Ephemera drew away from her and treated her as something dangerous. Now she was being treated like an amusement. She did not like that.
“So what? Is this just some check-in to see how my brainwashing is going?”
“I asked to see you,” Ephemera intoned. “Not because I believed the treatment would not work. I asked to see you because I hoped the treatment had not worked too well as yet. You are given to cunning and deception quite naturally, and you have a limited moral compass…”
“Yeah, I know, I’m awful.”
“You misunderstand me,” Ephemera said, her voice compounding somehow so it seemed that it was no longer one person who spoke, but many voices speaking in a grand unison. “We do not say these things by way of judgment. The qualities you possess are rare among the Svari, and for good reason. But, they are not without their uses.”
Faith’s antennae went up. All of a sudden, the grand creature who had once seemed so supernaturally perfect had an air about it that Faith recognized. It was the same feeling she’d gotten when approached for jobs in the past. Ephemera wanted something. She was sure of it.
“Uh huh.” Faith crossed her arms over her chest. “So what do you want?”
“Direct,” Ephemera replied. “Yes, we will have to be direct. I want you to steal something.”
Faith snorted. If Serkan could hear this, his head would probably explode. She couldn’t wait to tell him that the council wanted her to do their dirty work. That would blow his mind. She’d suspected all along that things couldn’t possibly be as peaceful among the Svari as they seemed to be. That was against the nature of all things.
“Oh, yeah? What does an advanced super-consciousness need?”
“You misunderstand,” Ephemera intoned. “I want you to steal me.”
“What?” Faith screwed her face up with incomprehension.
Ephemera coasted closer, humming with glorious melodic tones. It was difficult to reconcile this powerful creature with the bizarre request, but Faith’s life had been exceptionally odd of late, which made this twist a little easier to wrap her ever-expanding mind around.
“I know, to you, I seem like a strange entity ,” Ephemera sang in a progression of chords. “Perhaps I seem angelic, as you mentioned on our first meeting. ” Suddenly, the voices lapsed into a heavy dirge. “The truth is, I am the physical projection of a program running on a chip not that very much unlike the one you stole on your home planet. The consciousnesses of a hundred generations of councilors have been etched into the stone, and with our consciousnesses our very souls have likewise been trapped. We have been unable to move on from this place and join the great cycle from stardust to sentience. We are tired of our tasks. We wish to be free. We have served the Svari long enough.”
“I don’t understand,” Faith stammered. “Everyone here is obsessed with you. I don’t think they know how to live without your law.”
Ephemera slid back and returned to its usual tones, their sweet chimes all the more unsettling now. “The Svari have no need of us any longer. As you have noted yourself, they have come to rely upon us rather than making decisions for themselves. They have become indolent and weak. It was a great relief when Commander Serkan broke the directives he was supposed to operate under. And when you arrived here—we knew our chance had come.”
“But you said I was a disruptive influence… Serkan has been putting me through all sorts of things. He’s been… inventive.”
“Yes,” Ephemera agreed. “At first, we decided to follow protocol where you were concerned. We made the largest accommodation without giving you total freedom, so as not to arouse suspicion. On further consideration, we realized precisely how we could be of mutual use to one another.”
“And in that time I was subjected to all sorts of treatments,” Faith reminded Ephemera. “So forgive me if I’m not that thrilled with this offer.”
“Consider yourself forgiven,” Ephemera said. “I am sure it has not been easy for you, but if you understand, you may find it in yourself to forgive. Your mental map indicated that you were highly empathetic.”
“Uh huh.” Faith’s eyes were narrowed with suspicion. “So what do you want me to do? Exactly?”
“We want you to take the council stone upon which our minds and memories are captured—and destroy it. Doing so will free us, and it will free the Svari to choose their own paths.”
“Mhm,” Faith sighed. This was all a little too esoteric for her liking, but it seemed to boil down to a simple job: get a stone and break it. She could probably do that. “So how am I going to do that?”
“It will not be simple. I can give you no aid in the task, but to tell you where it is located. It is very well guarded, and reaching it will be dangerous both emotionally and physically. You will not be able to tell anyone what you are trying to do, and the price for tampering with the council stone, as it is called, is death. Serkan will not be able to save you from it. Even I will have to enforce the law if you are publicly caught. Understand, human, you will be put to death if you fail.”
“So what is in it for me?” The little hairs were standing up on the back of Faith’s neck. Creepy did not describe the tone their conversation had taken. Ephemera was no font of endless goodness and kindness and all things virtuous. It had suited the council to act that way thus far, but Faith was becoming aware that the thing she was conversing with was likely capable of greater evil than she could comprehend.
“If you do this for us, you will free yourself in the process. You will no longer be bound by Ephemera’s law. You will be able to do as you please. You will be able to return to your Earth, or roam the settled worlds as takes your fancy.”
Faith snorted. As long as Serkan drew breath, she was certain she would never again do as she pleased. He believed in truth and honor, all the virtues Ephemera pretended to, and unlike this creepy collection of old dead people, he lived his beliefs.
“Why don’t you just tell your followers to destroy the council stone? They do everything you say.”
“That is the one thing they would never do. Protecting the council stone is the paramount value of the Svari. When we first began the process of assembling the stone, we decreed that none shall desecrate it, at the risk of painful death. We thought we were protecting ourselves. Little did we know, we were building our own prison.”
“That still leaves the matter of how pissed everyone is going to be if I do what you ask,” Faith said, having no sympathy at all for the councilors who had tried to hold onto power by baking themselves into a brick for centuries. “They’re going to want my blood, and frankly, I’m tired of people trying to kill me for stealing things. I can’t do what you’re asking me to do.”
Ephemera shuddered and its voices became louder and angrier and more distinct. “Let us make this simple, human. You can risk death at the hands of the Svari after the council stone is destroyed, or you can face the certain demise of both yourself and Serkan this moment. We have harvested the souls of millions in our quest for power. Two more is nothing to us.”
“So I kill you, or you kill me, and the man I love.”
“Precisely.” Ephemera’s voice returned to the holy sweet tone, sending shivers down Faith’s spine.
“This is a shitty deal,” Faith said. “But you know what I’m going to say.”
“You’re going to take it,” Ephemera said, the voices reaching a new harmony, a sultry, sweet, entirely untrustworthy pitch that frightened Faith to her core. “We know. The council stone is located at the very top of this building inside the crystal shroud. There are no stairs or walkways to it, and the steps and ladders have been destroyed in an effort to preserve it.”
“So how am I supposed to get it? I’m a thief, but I’m not an acrobat.”
“There may be a way… a single opportunity. Once a year, at the Grand Moon celebration, the tablet is removed by the priests and taken to the ceremony grounds. You have seen them, I believe. It will be on display there, surrounde
d by the sacred dancers. They are the only ones permitted to touch it for they have proved their dedication by drinking the forest broth. The Grand Moon is but one week away. The ceremony you attended this evening is one of many leading up to it. You may be able to mount a theft at that time.”
“And if I can’t…” Faith made a thumb gesture across her throat.
“Precisely. Go now,” Ephemera said. “Go to your master. Be sure to tell him nothing of our conversation. I will know if you do.”
Faith sidestepped toward the door, unwilling to turn her back on the creature still hovering in the room. It no longer looked angelic to her. It looked positively evil, a feminine form tortured by centuries of male bitterness if the voices she had heard spilling from the creature were anything to go by.
She backed into the hallway, where she ran immediately into Serkan who was pacing back and forth. Faith whirled to face him and saw a tense expression on his face. For a split-second, she wondered if he knew what Ephemera had asked her to do, then she remembered that he was far more afraid of her misbehavior than he was of Ephemera. Even if she told him what the council had asked her to do, she doubted he would believe her.
“Were you pleasant in there? Did you behave yourself?”
“Well, I’m not on fire, so I guess so,” Faith snapped sarcastically. It really was a bit much, the way he always assumed she was going to do, or had just done something wrong.
“What did Ephemera say?”
“Not much,” Faith shrugged. “She said you’re doing a good job. Or something. I don’t know.”
