Bridgers 3_The Voice of Reason Page 6

  “It’s going to be dark,” Infinity said. “The moon is only half full tonight here, and it will be the same there. If we’re in a forest, or if it’s a cloudy night, it could be pitch black. Don’t panic. Stay quiet and listen for my voice or Desmond’s.”

  “Ten seconds.”

  Infinity pointed at their feet. “Get your legs apart and be ready to drop. It won’t hurt. You’re going to be fine.”

  Desmond held his arms out to facilitate the bridging device’s scan of his body. There was a wet, prickling sensation on his skin, and the bridging chamber disappeared.

  6

  Quandary

  September 2 - 12:01 AM

  The bridging chamber’s harsh light was replaced by blackness. Infinity’s feet dropped only a fraction of an inch before finding solid ground. She tried to hold steady, to let her eyes adjust so she could study her surroundings, but the refugees became a floundering, retching pile of arms and legs. She quickly got her nausea under control and disentangled herself from the group. Their stomachs would be relatively empty after bridging, but on occasion she had seen a surprising amount of fluid expelled by tourists.

  While backing up, she bumped into a kneeling figure and almost tripped over it. She grabbed the figure by one arm and pulled the person to their feet. “Desmond, is that you?” Her voice was almost drowned out by the confused cries of the refugees.

  “Yeah, I’m okay,” he said. She felt his hands grip both her shoulders. “Can’t see a thing, though.”

  Infinity looked up and was able to see several stars. She shifted her head from side to side. The stars disappeared, but a few others came into view—they were below a forest canopy. The moon wasn’t visible, either below the horizon or obscured by clouds.

  “Colonists, listen to my voice,” she said.

  The group became only slightly quieter.

  “Your nausea will pass. As soon as it does, calmly get to your feet.”

  A man’s voice rose above the others. “You said this wouldn’t hurt! I think I’ve skinned my knee on a rock.”

  Infinity gritted her teeth and took a breath. “We’ll assess your injuries once you’ve quieted down and moved to the side of the bridge-in site. Can all of you hear my voice?”

  The group finally became relatively quiet. “That was the worst thing I’ve ever experienced,” a woman complained. “Now I’ve got dirt in places dirt should never be.”

  Infinity felt Desmond’s hand on her shoulder. “Infinity, there’s a light. To your right, maybe a hundred yards out.”

  Infinity turned and stared. He was right. A faint glow, mostly blocked by trees. “It may be a cabin or farm house,” she said.

  “We should go there,” a woman said. “If their lights are on, they may be awake. Surely they’ll take us in.”

  “I agree,” said the scraped-knee voice. “I already feel things crawling on my skin.”

  “Quiet!” Infinity ordered. She stared at the glowing light. It had an odd purplish hue, and it seemed to flicker or throb, as if things were moving in front of it. Maybe it was the breeze blowing tree limbs back and forth. But she could detect no breeze against her skin.

  “No one goes near that light until Desmond and I have checked it out,” she said. “I want all of you on your feet, but don’t move from where you’re standing yet. Desmond, make sure there’s a safe, open area for them to move to.” She listened as he felt his way to a space to the right side of the group, his feet shuffling through sticks and dead leaves.

  After a minute or so, his voice penetrated the darkness. “This area is okay. Link your hands together and move toward my voice until you’re sure you’re clear of the bridge-in site.

  They began shuffling toward him. As they moved into place, Infinity told them to sit. Several of them said they weren’t comfortable sitting on the ground. That was fine. They could spend the next six hours standing there for all Infinity cared, as long as they didn’t wander off. Infinity had them get into groups of three. She instructed them to know where their two partners were at all times, including when one of them had to step away to take a leak.

  Infinity looked again toward the distant light. It still wavered like it was moving, or like something in front of it was moving.

  She sensed Desmond stepping up beside her shoulder.

  “Should we go ahead and check it out?” he asked.

  Her eyes were starting to adjust, and now she could see his outline inches from her face. “Maybe we should,” she replied. “There’s something weird about that light. It’s going to bother me until we at least know what it is.” She spoke to the refugees. “We’ll be back in a few minutes. You are all under strict orders to stay here. Anyone who leaves this spot will answer to me.”

  Infinity and Desmond left the group and carefully picked their way through the darkness toward the violet light. She led the way, and he followed behind with a hand on her shoulder to avoid getting separated. She held her arms in front of her face, clearing away spiderwebs and pushing aside vegetation.

  Gradually they closed in on the light. But the closer they got, the more Infinity’s apprehension grew. The light definitely wasn’t from a farmhouse window. It was much larger than that. And as they drew closer, the wavering brightness became more pronounced.

  At about twenty-five yards, she and Desmond stopped and stared. Infinity remained silent because she could think of nothing coherent to say. The light was coming from within an oval-shaped structure. Or maybe it was the structure’s outer wall that was glowing—it was hard to tell. The thing resembled a huge plastic bubble, maybe fifteen feet tall and sixty feet in diameter. And it was moving, the walls briefly expanding in certain places while contracting in others. This created a throbbing, life-like appearance. But the structure was far too large to be a living creature.

  It was so large that several trees had been partially engulfed within it. Due to the bubble’s semi-transparent nature, the trunks of these trees were visible, their shapes distorted by the bubble’s glowing, pulsing surface.

  “There’s something moving inside,” Desmond whispered in Infinity’s ear. He pointed.

  She squinted at where he was pointing. At first she didn’t see anything but the fluid-looking interior of the bubble. But then she saw something move. The moving object was only slightly less transparent than the material around it, but it was definitely moving, shifting back and forth every few seconds. Not in a symmetrical, pulsating way. Rather, each of the movements was different from the last, as if the object were a living creature occasionally shifting its weight to find a comfortable position.

  Infinity’s unease was now off the charts. She had bridged to countless alternate worlds, but she’d never seen anything like this. And what she was seeing made no sense. Until 150 years ago, this world had been identical to her own. What could possibly have happened in such a short time that could explain the existence of something like this? It was certainly possible that the people of this world could have taken technology in different directions, but this thing didn’t appear to be man-made. It was eerily biological.

  “I don’t like this,” she whispered. “We have no idea what this is or what it can do.” She turned to Desmond, his face now illuminated by the violet glow. “Your thoughts?”

  He shook his head. “I have no idea what to think. I say we leave it alone. Maybe after the sun comes up we’ll be able to learn more.”

  Infinity nodded.

  They silently pulled back and began making their way toward the bridge-in site. After traversing at least a hundred yards of dark forest, they stopped to listen for the eighteen refugees. Nothing. Reluctantly, Infinity called out to them as quietly as she could.

  “We’re over here!” one of the refugees replied, speaking much louder than Infinity had.

  She and Desmond had missed the bridge-in site by what sounded like thirty yards. They made their way to the group.

  “Is it a farmhouse?” one of the refugees asked. It sounded like Gavi
n.

  “Definitely not a farmhouse,” Desmond said quietly. “To be honest, we have no idea what it is. And until we do, we’ve decided to keep our distance.”

  “What do you mean you don’t know what it is?” Gavin asked.

  Infinity took a deep breath, but Desmond replied first. “Remember when we asked you to let us do our jobs? This is where you do that.”

  “You speak, but why?”

  The entire group became silent. The voice had come from the side, beyond the refugees, and it’d had a strange, wavering quality to it. Infinity wasn’t sure if the voice had come from a man or a woman.

  “Now you don’t speak,” the voice said. “And why?” Again the voice had a wavering quality, almost like someone was talking into a spinning fan.

  “Who are you?” Infinity asked.

  “You must know. Yet you do not. And why?” The voice had moved, as if the person were circling the group. Infinity could see the figure’s dark outline, and she caught a whiff of an odd smell coming from the same direction. But not the smell of body odor—more like greasy rags from the floor of a garage, perhaps mixed with garlic.

  Desmond spoke up. “We’re new here. We just arrived. So we can’t possibly know who you are. We’d like to be friends. We are peaceful people, and we have no intention of hurting you.”

  “I reckon that’s good. But good only for you.” The voice had now circled to the side opposite of where it had started, and the smell had become stronger. “You are speaking. But what is the explanation?”

  Fortunately, the refugees were remaining silent. The last thing Infinity wanted now was more confusion in this conversation. She asked the moving figure, “Do you have a light? We’d like to see who you are.”

  “You want light. And you speak. I reckon you’re new here, yes. But how new? And from where?”

  Infinity heard Desmond sigh, likely as puzzled as she was.

  “It would take some time to explain where we came from,” Desmond said. “We’ll explain it all later. For now we just want you to know that we would like to be friends, and that more of us will be here soon. Hundreds of us.”

  The dark figure had been crunching sticks and leaves as it paced around them, but now the crunching stopped. “Hundreds of you coming. You will explain later. But I’ve a notion to ask my questions now.”

  “Thirty-six hours from now, there will be 720 of us here, in this spot,” Desmond said. “We are peaceful people, and we just want you and your people to allow us to enter your society. We have skills that will be useful to you.”

  “You are peaceful. You have skills. Seven hundred and twenty of you. This is a quandary, you see. But a quandary only for you. If I were you, I would return whence you came.”

  “This is ridiculous,” exclaimed Gavin. “You’re not making any sense. Perhaps you could take us to someone who could help us. Is there a town nearby? Can you take us to the nearest city?”

  The figure began pacing again. “Many of you speak. Perhaps all of you speak. Your quandary thickens. I fear you are in peril.”

  Infinity interjected, “You’re saying we’re in danger? Danger from what?”

  The figure didn’t reply for several long seconds, during which a movement in the distance caught Infinity’s eye. No, not a movement so much as a brightening of the violet light.

  “Many of you speak,” the figure beside them said. “Like a pack of coyotes. Now your quandary becomes peril. Danger, as you have said. But danger only for you. Or perhaps no danger. The mongrels will decide, as they are now coming.”

  The violet light grew in intensity. Now Infinity could see the shapes of the refugees sitting on the ground before her. She looked at the stranger, who was gradually becoming visible.

  “What is that thing?” a woman said. “It’s beautiful!”

  Infinity turned back to the glowing object. The violet bubble was moving toward them. She watched as the thing engulfed several trees, passing around them like a massive amoeba. Second by second, it drew nearer, and soon Infinity could hear dry leaves crunching under its weight. A few of the refugees cursed and got to their feet.

  “Everyone get up!” Infinity ordered.

  As she was about to order the refugees to run, the thing stopped, its leading edge no more than ten feet away. Three translucent figures were moving inside the bubble, just on the other side of the membrane-like wall. Infinity couldn’t make out their specific shape, but they were definitely alive, their movements animal-like. Machines simply didn’t move like that.

  “The mongrels observe. They wonder why you speak. Great peril.”

  “Infinity, you need to see this,” Desmond said.

  Reluctantly, she turned away from the glowing bubble to face the almost-forgotten stranger who had been speaking to them.

  The stranger was now illuminated by the bubble’s shimmering light. “Great peril,” it said again. It had a long tail that was curled around the trunk of a nearby tree. It was crouching on two thin legs. A pair of arms extended from its shoulders, with a second, nearly-identical pair just below the first. It casually lifted one of its lower arms and scratched the top of its rounded head, contemplating the group of humans. The violet light of the glowing bubble made it hard to tell the creature’s color, but Infinity was willing to bet its belly was gray and its back and limbs were somewhere between green and aqua blue. The thing was a larger, human-sized version of the creature that had returned with the bio-probe.

  “Your quandary has become a grave predicament,” the creature said. “But only for you.”

  7

  Conversation

  September 2 - 12:44 AM

  Desmond stared at the creature, struggling to make sense of its appearance and its presence here. And the fact that it was talking. In English.

  The refugees were all on their feet now, and most of them had moved behind Desmond and Infinity for protection.

  Infinity spoke to it again. “How can we avoid danger? We don’t want trouble.”

  The creature released its grip on the tree beside it, its tail sliding over the bark’s surface like a snake. The creature then moved toward Desmond and Infinity, walking smoothly on its spindly back legs and lower pair of forelimbs, which Desmond now saw were longer than the upper pair of arms. The creature’s hands and fingers were surprisingly long, making up at least a third of each limb.

  Out of the corner of Desmond’s eye, he saw Infinity crouch into a fighting stance as the figure came closer. The creature noticed this and paused, appraising her. It raised its upper right hand slightly, revealing that it was holding something. The object, apparently a weapon, was about fifteen inches long with a narrow handle gripped by the creature’s delicate fingers. Desmond looked closer at the object’s larger end, and his gut tightened. He’d been wrong. The thing wasn’t an object—it was a living creature. Pairs of jointed legs protruded from its sides, perhaps eight pairs in total, each leg tipped with a single needle-sharp claw. Inch-long mandibles gnashed the air at the weapon’s distal end. The object—or creature—looked very much like the head and first sixteen legs of a massive centipede. The bottom six inches appeared to be nothing more than a handle. The strange purple glow that now illuminated the area certainly didn’t do anything to make the weapon seem less sinister.

  The creature crept forward and stopped only a few feet before them. It reeked of a strange chemical smell, like it had been dipped in tar or oil. It dropped to a sitting position and coiled its tail around its base, stabilizing itself. Its face was now about three feet above the ground. It gazed up at them with round, black eyes. Every few seconds it blinked, first one eye and then the other, as if the two eyes were independent of each other.

  Desmond noticed that the centipede object’s legs were now twitching. He pointed to it. “Is that a weapon? If so, you won’t need it. We don’t want any trouble.”

  The creature stared at them for several more seconds, still blinking. “You don’t want trouble. But you speak. Such contradicti
on. Such disparity.” The creature then looked up at the glowing purple bubble looming nearby. “The mongrels become curious. This is good. But perhaps only for you. Perhaps they will only observe. But I reckon with the morning’s light will come trouble.”

  “What kind of trouble?” Infinity asked.

  The creature turned its head slightly to gaze at her. “You come to the bailiwick of another herd, and you know nothing of the vexation you provoke. Curious, indeed. With the morning’s light will come the herd. They’ll come to feed. They’ll discover you in their bailiwick. Trouble will follow, as the herd don’t take kindly to trespassers.”

  Desmond shook his head, frustrated. He didn’t understand most of what the creature was saying, although nearly all of it sounded like bad news. He turned to check on the refugees. They were standing to the side, gaping either at the immense purple bubble or at the six-armed creature holding a centipede weapon.

  Desmond turned back to the pungent creature. “Can you explain what you are, exactly? We came here expecting to find humans, like us. You are definitely not human.”

  It scratched its head with the back of the hand that held the centipede weapon, being careful to avoid contact with the pointed claws and fangs. “You come to find other humans. But other humans will find you, when the herd comes to feed.”

  “You’re saying the herd is actually a group of humans?”

  “Humans, yes.”

  Desmond exchanged a glance with Infinity. She was frowning. “So, what are you then?” she asked the creature.

  “My ancestors came with the mongrels. I ain’t indigenous here.”

  No shit it wasn’t indigenous, especially on a world with a divergence of only 150 years. Desmond pointed to one of the translucent figures on the other side of the bubble’s outer membrane. “Are those the mongrels?”

  “Mongrels, yes. You seem to have confounded them a bit. I reckon that’s why you are still you.”