Scout

by Bob Kite

  “HELLO HUMAN, NICE OF YOU TO FINALLY VISIT. I THINK YOUR KIND HAS DONE ENOUGH HARM FOR ONE LIFETIME, EVEN ONE AS LONG AS MINE.”

  Each band of light went dark for a moment, and then flashed in unison, “PLACE HIM WITH THE ELDERS, NOW!”

  Two obviously distressed servants approached Scout with a metallic box while several others grabbed hold of him. He was well versed in hand-to-hand combat but had nothing to use as a base while he floated in the middle of the ocean. He continued to kick and thrash and scratch and actually held them at bay, but the giant Vissou grabbed him by either wrist and yanked. He felt an excruciating tear as his left arm pulled out of his socket and off his body. He watched his arm make the long journey down into the beast’s mouth and disappear inside. He went still from shock, and when they touched him with the artifact, he lost consciousness.

  ~o0o~

  Scout became aware of his surroundings by degrees. First, he felt a hard surface below his back. Later, occasional noises intruded, but nothing he could recognize. He finally opened bleary eyes, but they failed to focus properly. He only could tell he was in a large space lit by a bright wavering glow. He finally awoke and felt clearheaded and tried to sit up, but his muscles were slow to respond. He gathered enough energy to roll over and slowly fell three feet through water onto a hard floor without too much injury.

  Cyan and magenta lights suddenly blinked in a staccato rhythm. Someone or something picked him up and placed him back on the metal tabletop. A nine-foot tall Vissou came into focus and stood over him. She was nowhere near the scale of the monstrosity he encountered but still many times larger than an average Vissou and intimidating enough to a weakened Scout.

  “Well, human, you are full of surprises! Wait a moment, let me get that alarm.”

  The Vissou disappeared from view and the blinking lights stopped.

  “So, how are you feeling? Oh, wait, how can you speak? For that matter, can you even understand me? Raise two of your tentacles, or whatever you call them if you can understand me.”

  Scout slowly raised both arms, which quickly dropped again. Then it hit him, BOTH arms!

  “Well, that’s good. Anyway, we searched the archives and created a translator. Just rest and I’ll return shortly.”

  She returned a few minutes later carrying a belt covered in an array of dots. She placed it against his chest and pressed a switch.

  “Just make those waveforms you call speech, and the translator should repeat it in real language.”

  “I am very hungry. May I have something to eat? Anything will do.”

  His first sensation was an overwhelming thirst, but he was underwater, and his body had no problem filtering the salt. He gulped down a couple of swallows and the thirst abated. His voice sounded strange to his ears before he remembered he was underwater, but the translator seemed to have no trouble.

  “Of course, I should have foreseen that, where are my manners? Just a moment again.”

  The Visou floated over to a small mesh cage and pulled out a fat eel–like fish. It was cold, slimy, and had a particularly unappealing head, but Scout ate it with all gusto, except for the exceptionally hard rib cage. Stormfront saw what Scout discarded and ate it herself without comment.

  “Thank you, and thank you even more for restoring my arm.”

  “For the food, you’re welcome. As far as the arm, we had nothing to do with that. The fact that it grew back was our first indication you might spontaneously recover from suspended animation. Just curious, how long would it normally take to reconstitute an appendage?”

  “I didn’t know I could! It doesn’t surprise me; I had exceptional designers.”

  “Curious, but then I know so little about humans.”

  “May I sit up?

  “Of course, And I am Elder Stormfront Grey, do humans use names?”

  “My name is Scout, pleased to make your acquaintance, Stormfront.”

  “Scout? That is a strange word for a name. If it is all the same, I think I’ll continue calling you Human. It’s not like there’s another around to mix anyone up.”

  Scout became irritated with the slow measure of the conversation so far. He supposed it was due to the long lifespan of an Elder. He was bursting with questions and assumed Elder Stormfront was also.

  “You used a phrase, suspended animation I believe. I’m not familiar with that term.”

  “It is the result of a serum that inhibits decay in living tissue on a sub-molecular level. In minuscule concentration, it is the natural process that allows us Vissou the potential for a nearly unlimited lifespan. Our young Elder Slate synthesized a more powerful version that is also a paralytic. We were quite proud of her at the time. Unfortunately, she was at a sensitive point in her emotional development when you humans nearly destroyed the world.”

  “I would like to clear something up. While I have human DNA, that is only the sub-matrix used to give continuity to the rest of my complex genetic structure. I have never seen a human, other than as heliobee data, nor do I have any direct knowledge of how they caused, or even if they caused the Catastrophe.”

  “Hmm, my apologies, jumping to conclusions seem to be a side effect of aging. And I am getting old. Heliobees? Then you are a product of Imuq! That explains a lot. And be assured, the humans did cause the Catastrophe. After all, I was there.”

  “But, I understood that was millennia ago. How old are you?”

  “So old I lost interest in the accumulated total. I do understand your astonishment, though. I have only been out of suspended animation for a tiny portion of that time. I am disappointed that you do not have a firm grasp of human technology. It was my hope that a fresh perspective would help us solve our problem, but perhaps your Imuqi knowledge may be even better.

  Would you mind a quick historical rundown? The Catastrophe set off major climate changes and other disruptions, destroying buildings and releasing toxic substances from factory processes. Food supply dwindled alarmingly, and we estimate that we lost eighty percent of our population that first year. Elder Slate blamed science and technology, and the leadership of all Elders. She coordinated an attack on every Elder, other than herself, and placed us in suspended animation storage. To this day, we don’t think she has an actual plan concerning us.

  It was only by an oversight that the last two Elders received a reduced dose of the serum and re-animated some unknown time later. Elder Slate had already contiguously lived much longer than any other Vissou that she had already grown nearly half the size you now see her. As the last Elder, the people looked to her first as a prophetess and then as a god. She forbade all science and technology except under her direct supervision and ordered every Vissou to procreate by age ten. Perhaps you have seen the results.”

  “Yes, I am sorry to say.You mentioned a problem for which I might be able to help?”

  “When the two re-animated Elders realized the situation, they worked for a time on an antidote for the rest of us. They were partly successful, but the effect only lasts a hundred years, at which time the process reinstates. We still work in secret. Slate remembers us and sends someone to check on us every now and again. Thankfully, I suppose, their current counting skills aren’t accurate enough to notice two of us missing from storage. During our rotating hundred-year watch, one of us continues to work on a solution while the other remains hidden, just in case they discover us and place us all in suspension, or worse. We really are at a standstill for now, but by hundred-year rotations we all hope to resume a full life one day.”

  “Well then, let’s get started. And while we’re at it, maybe you can fill in some gaps about humans. I may not be fully human, but they are half of my heritage, as well as a mystery to me.”

  ~o0o~

  It took a while for Scout to ramp up on Vissou technology which they based on physics and energy states, and even longer to adapt that to Imuqi biochemistry. Still, it was not a permanent obstacle as observable science and repeatable results are the universal l
anguage of science. Over and again, Stormfront shared negative results in the archives for every possibility that Scout formulated.

  They also faced additional pressure from ever more frequent security checks since the sudden appearance of Scout renewed Slate’s paranoia. He was caught unaware a couple of times, but Scout found that he only needed to stop and play dead to fool the uneducated and intellectually diminished Vissou.

  “You know what, Stormfront? We started this investigation front to back, with little result. Let’s try looking at it the other way around. We have isolated the chemical process; we just haven’t been able to break it down without the subject's body losing all integrity resulting in death. You’ve told me that Slate is an aberration, and should simply have continued growing instead of budding repeated layers. What if the chemical slurry after the Catastrophe has mutated her?”

  Stormfront seemed to shut down for several hours as she brought her long-lived focus to an intellectual point.

  “I think we may have lived too close to the solution for too long! We need a sample of her blood. Any ideas? Of course you have; you are an exceptional individual.”

  Scout was never one for false modesty, but he did admit to a small amount of pride.

  “Indeed, I do. It won’t be as easy as if I had access to an Imuqi Regenitor, but your impressive lab facilities should still make it possible.”

  Scout created a crude biological tool, only intelligent enough to understand simple commands and perform straightforward functions. When finished, the tiny leech-like worm swam to the edge of Slate’s massive mouth unnoticed, found a soft crease in the ancient being’s gum line, and scraped some tissue into its storage belly. It returned as programmed and expired happy since it fulfilled its life’s purpose.

  Scout and Stormfront discovered the mutation with ease and used its genetic signature as the key to manipulating the formerly recalcitrant hormone to their will. They now had the ability to permenantly wake all the Elders.

  “Congratulations, Stormfront, but I still see one small...make that one huge, barrier to your success.”

  “Yes and that barrier sits just outside. Believe it or not, that is going to be the easy part. We need just one more of your charming little biological toys, this time to deliver a specific chemical.”

  “Certainly, what will it do?”

  “I think I’ll leave that as a surprise. Let’s wake everyone up, and share the show!”

  ~o0o~

  There were too many Elders to fit into the small lab, so they took a few days to hook up remote viewers so everyone could watch. Most of the Elders knew in general what was to transpire, but only Stormfront knew all the details. The new tool Scout created had a corkscrew shaped, designed to drill its way towards the center of Slate’s brain, a quite specific area of her brain.

  The partially cognizant tool made its way to the middle of the top chromatic speech band. Once satisfied it had found the proper spot it began the long journey to the center of her brain. It released the targeted hormone from within its holding bladder with orgasmic pleasure and caused the same state within Slate.

  For the gargantuan Visou, it felt as if the Catastrophe had returned. Slate shivered, shook, and undulated uncontrollably. She flailed and stroked herself into a frenzy with all her limbs, from the smallest at the top to the obscenely large quadruple set at the bottom. Her body took hours to liquefy completely but over time released her countless microscopic progeny into the sea. The Elders faced an immense challenge in rebuilding their culture and society, but they had both patience and time.

  “There are no words, Scout, to convey our thanks, or the depths of our debt. Anything of ours is forever yours.”

  “It has been my pleasure and privilege. You have shared everything you knew about my human heritage, but still, I would like to visit the destruction myself to see if anything at all survived.”

  “I have just the thing in mind to help you along your journey!”

  ~o0o~

  Scout sat in the pilot seat of a comfortably sized vehicle, reminiscent of a classic flying saucer. Its propulsion utilized antigravity plates which made no sound, so as he exploded up through the ocean waves and into the sky he heard the whoosh of water as it cascaded off the edge. The clear energy dome allowed bright sunshine to bathe the cabin in warm light, which lifted his spirits even as he set his course for what he now knew was a macabre destination.

  ~end~

  Chapter 7: Scout & The Nuplar

  ~Part 1~

  Snar had no particular direction, and certainly no destination, in mind. His parent had dropped him in a prime location, nestled in a V notch between two boulders. The blinding methane ice storm covered everything with inches of frozen whiteness. That would not help hide him since his enemies used high-energy echolocation in place of sight.

  The ferromagnetic outcroppings around him would help, at least long enough for his exoskeleton to harden from his recent molting. That interference, however, could work both ways and become dangerous during the upcoming battles of will.

  Snar raised his three-foot wide pancake-shaped body to his maximum height of six feet. One by one, he tested his five spiked legs at the rotator joints that were spread equidistant about his body. He also admired the extra serrations his latest molting had left on his hinged, scythed claws. He grabbed a basketball-sized rock and smashed it against the top of his featureless reflective-white body. It shattered with a clang that he felt throughout his Ferro-calcite bones but experienced no other effects, not even a scratch.

  Snar never considered himself especially athletic during his adolescence, and now with his new adult size slipped off the rocky edges more often than not. He was also apprehensive about the transmitter portion of his transceiver organ which might not fully activate.

  Nuplar young began life with a receive-only nodule that gave any adult full remote access to their nervous system. Snar had always walked a fine line between willfulness and obedience, submitting to authority by his own volition rather than by force or fear. Now he faced fifteen thousand of his peers in a battle of dominance.

  He faintly detected others at the edge of his awareness but kept beneath the ridgeline in the cautious strategy his parent taught him. He rounded a boulder and nearly walked into a hidden competitor. His first childish instinct was simple submission, but he quickly remembered his whole future hung on this day and, in particular, this first encounter.

  His opponent recovered from surprise a moment before him as Snar felt an exploratory tingle spread through his body. Never had any adult tried to humiliate him by forcing his submissive response posture. The fact that a stranger, and a peer at that, now attempted such an abrupt takeover absolutely infuriated him! Snar pushed back and felt feeling a satisfying pulse of power rush out from his transceiver organ.

  As he engaged in the silent battle for the first time, Snar felt as if he was looking into an endless hall of mirrors. It requiring an intense amount of concentration and effort to distinguish his own body from that of the other's. Equally matched, at least in their inexperience, neither gained ascendancy. Snar’s one advantage lay in growing up as the offspring of a high-ranking officer, an inheritance that now stood him in good stead.

  While he maintained the mental struggle, Snar leaped the gap between them and in two snips removed two of his foe’s adjacent limbs. Any three legs were sufficient for walking, but not for battle. Snar’s opponent retained the sense of mind to drop to the ground since his claws could still articulate for full defensive coverage, but the psychic shock of his sudden reversal of fortune heralded his end.

  Snar completely shredded the other's will and sense of self. Exultant in the hormonal afterglow of such strenuous and overwhelming effort, Snar leisurely spent a period of time experimenting as he remotely manipulated and explored the absolute extent of his power over his new thrall. This amusement soon palled, so he sent a death pulse and the remaining legs sagged against the lifeless shell.

 
Snar scratched through the frozen surface to find a seep hole of the chemical slurry his kind used for nutrition. He knelt so that the semi-permeable membrane that surrounded his leg joints submerged enough for osmosis. He was extremely hungry from the stress of battle, as well as the recent molt. He stood up and hesitated, then returned to his defeated adversary and grabbed one of the dismembered limbs.

  He placed it in the slurry, where, in time, it would generate a small Nuplar identical to the original. He could have regenerated clones from all five joints, but did not think such a quick defeat deserved propagation. He only saved the one because this was a cousin of his bloodline. The grandparent would retrieve the new child at the end of the games, locating it by the resonating signature since the donor had regenerated from one of his own legs in some previous battle.

  Full of confidence, Snar sought a bolder strategic position. He now had a greater understanding of his purpose here; the greater number of thralls he could hold, the higher his standing in the adult community. He quickly and easily won the next six confrontations and his newly acquired attendants followed along with hardly any thought or attention required on his part. He learned to gauge the relative strength of each new opponent based on the timber and quality of their transceiver and decided to go off in search of new and more powerful opponents.

  The next opportunity provided an experienced victor in their own right with a cadre of four thralls. They stood on opposing hillocks, sized each other up, and simultaneously locked wills. They slipped around and grappled through each other’s minds. Snar became more exasperated than fearful, confident he would not succumb but unable to catch hold of the other.