by Z. M. Wilmot
~Matilda Greylane, niece of Matthias Newson, speaking to him shortly before the Ambassador departed
When we were all awake, we gathered in a circle and discussed what to do next. We still had a large supply of potatoes, as well as most of the water. Based on this, we decided that our most important goals were to find more water and to look for more survivors. Everyone had recovered after the night’s sleep, and was eager to help. We agreed that one person should always be present at our shelter, and that this position should rotate throughout the day. Those who left to explore would always travel in pairs; if anyone got lost, they were to yell as loudly as they could and listen for a response (either from the shelter itself or from the other group). Our plans laid out, we ate, and then began our day.
Mikhail and I set out together, looking for survivors, while Adam and Michaela went out looking for water. We, not surprisingly, found none. After a few hours, we returned to the shelter to find Stephen standing just outside the door, looking up at the sky. We ate a little bit of lunch together, and we talked as we ate.
I explained first how Michaela and I had escaped the ship. Stephen had no idea how he had survived – I guessed that he had been flung out of the ship when it exploded. Mikhail had escaped through one of the ship docks; using some of the materials in the hangar, he had rigged an impromptu explosive device and blown a small hole in the hull. He had still been close to the ship when it was destroyed, and was flung into the woods by the force of the explosion.
None of us could figure out how the ship exploded, despite several minutes of intense discussion. After half an hour or so, Mikhail and Stephen left together to continue looking for survivors. I had another while before Michaela and Adam were due to replace me, so I sat in the relative darkness of the shelter, looking outwards. After about fifteen minutes, I heard footsteps outside. I sat up straight, then got to my feet. I walked to the doorway, standing to the side, just out of sight, waiting for whatever was outside to enter. The footsteps stopped just outside the shelter. I didn’t move for another few minutes. I was afraid to breathe too loudly, and terrified of saying anything.
The owner of the footsteps, however, wasn’t. “Jakken Servidos.” I recognized the voice of the green-cloaked man. My body went cold.
“Y-yes?”
He stepped through the door, and I shrank back from him. He turned to look at me. “You almost fell into his embrace.”
I said nothing.
“You can be forgiven for walking too far from the ship, as you were sufficiently protected, but in your dreams, you are not, and the danger is just as real – if not even more so. Do not give in to Psy – do not let him take your mind.”
I swallowed. “W-who are y-you? W-who is Psy?”
He did not answer my first question this time, either. “Who I am does not matter. Neither so much does who Psy is, but you shall know, as you will not be able to grasp the threat he poses unless you do.
“Psy is a Kreton, a being created by Jux at the beginning of time, one of his initial ‘experiments’ – the only one of his kind. He has immense psychic abilities, and has been entering your dreams, as well as the dreams of many of your crewmates, though most of them managed to resist his pull. Their lives have not as terrible as yours, and so they were far less susceptible. He also cares not much for them, so expended little effort to take them under his control. You, however, he wants as his own, and thus he is trying to dominate you. When you fall into his embrace, you will be lost forever to yourself – you will die on this planet, your consciousness absorbed into his. He revealed to you his true form as you slept last. Do not let him again do this to you, or you will be forever lost. He has become physically near enough that I cannot overpower him any longer, especially as I am not even present in space at the moment.”
I blinked. I had no idea what to make of what had just been told me. “Who is Jux? What is a Kreton? Why does he want me? Who are you? How do you exist if you aren’t present?” The questions all flowed out of me in a stream of curiosity. The figure held up his hand, and I stopped talking immediately.
“Jux is the supremely powerful being who created space, then left it to attend matters elsewhere. A Kreton is a type of being that he created. Who I am is unimportant, as is my state of existence. All that you need to know is to not give into Psy’s call.” I remained silent.
“Speak of this to no one. Trust no one. Know only that you need to get out alive – and to not trust your dreams. The stars are a lie – Psy is the truth, and he wants you as his. He is not trying to help you.” Without any further words, the man vanished, and I was left alone.
I stood where I was for several minutes, thinking. Eventually, I decided that I should trust him. Most of what he said did not make sense to me, but at the end of my last dream, I had felt a terrible fear of the stars’ embrace, and of the slug-thing. The man had also saved me from the Deviant, and had given me sound advice to flee the ship. I also began to suspect that he was somehow responsible for the Ambassador’s destruction. I decided to keep everything to myself, as he instructed. I didn’t think anyone would believe me, anyway, so there would be no point in telling anyone.
When Michaela and Adam returned, they had more potatoes. “I really hope we find more than these – we’ll need proper nutrition if we’re going to live for any length of time,” Michaela commented as she deposited her load. “We also found a pool of sorts. And it has water in it! We’ll need to fashion more bowls and cups to carry it.” She cocked her head. “Actually, let’s do it now. We can leave the shelter abandoned for a few minutes, I think.”
We all went back to the ship and gathered more pieces of metal, twisting them into crude vessels capable of carrying water. I followed Michaela and Adam to the pool – it wasn’t far off, just hidden in a very dense cluster of trees – and we carried most of it back to the shelter. I wondered why we hadn’t just moved into one of those clusters of trees, instead of building a shelter. A few moments later, I realized that I really had no desire to live (and sleep) in a cluster of those trees while they were still living – I was uncomfortable enough when I was surrounded by dead ones.
Michaela stayed behind when we were done, and Adam and I set out, looking for food. We walked in a relatively straight line for quite a while, and as we advanced the trees began to thin, slowly at first, then very rapidly. We carried on, and then the trees just stopped, revealing the vast, rolling plain I had seen on my last exploratory mission with Jeen. We could see the hills in the distance, and far beyond them, green swirling clouds. Brilliant green lightning flashed, and a distant howling reached our ears.
We stared out at the majestic scene before us in awe before turning to look at each other.
“Shit,” he said. “I forgot about the storms.” We both turned to look again at the approaching clouds, then without a word, turned around and ran back to the shelter. Despite us having travelled only in a straight line, in our panic, we somehow managed to get lost. We stopped and both yelled as loudly as we could. Nearby, we heard Michaela yell back, and we found her, and the shelter, shortly thereafter.
She smiled at us as we rushed in. “I didn’t expect you to get lost so easily…”
Adam interrupted her. “There’s a storm coming – if it’s anything like what we saw when it snatched Rafael right out of the ship, it will kill us all.”
She frowned. “Damn. I had forgotten about that – but where the hell are we supposed to find shelter?”
At that moment, Mikhail and Stephen returned. Seeing the terrified looks on our faces, Mikhail asked what was wrong.
“Storm’s coming,” I told him shortly. He cursed, and Stephen paled.
“We’re doomed,” Adam said. “There’s no way this shelter will protect us.”
None of us could think of any place in which we would be safe from the storm – our best hope seemed to be hiding in a cluster of the trees and waiting there until it passed. Just as we were about to go find a cluster thick enough to prot
ect us, I realized I did know of a place where we would be sheltered from the storm. I didn’t like the idea, but it was probably our only hope.
“I know where we can go,” I said.
28
“Paranoia is the opposite of curiosity. Or is it fear? One could make a case for both, but I believe that it is paranoia. Paranoia is what shuts one up in his own little hole, afraid to venture outside, while curiosity is that which drives one out into the world to do what he will, whether for good or for evil.”