Chương 13: Succession

Martin hangs up his phone again.

"Another. Already. Damn it."

"A scant three days have past since the wooden beast. Are we embroiled in a period of unusually high activity?" He grabs his head in frustration.

"Yeah, it happens sometimes. Everything wants to come out to play at the same time. This one should be low risk, at least. Know anything about the lizard people?" Martin and Shrike spend the day packing, as he explains what he meant by lizard people. There's a big colony of them, ten thousand or so, just outside SLC. They live fairly deep underground, roughly a mile below in sprawling rock cities.

They're largely left alone since they don't interact with humans often, and have a deal with the government to report any natural resources they find during their excavations. The hunters leave at night, driving through the Wasatch to specified coordinates, leaving them at a low, dry valley. At exactly 6pm, a rock slides along a metal rail, grinding and shrieking loud enough to get Martin and Shrike's attention. The gap created is just large enough to let them inside.

After a short five minutes, the rock closes behind them, sealing them in a small cave. The entrance cavern is dimly lit, a pair of table lamps resting on the floor towards the opposite end of the cave. Between the dim, flickering lamps is an archaic hand-crack elevator within the small entrance room, the lamps casting tall shadows behind them onto the surrounding rocks. A sign reading "DANGER: TOXIC GAS" rests on the wire door to the elevator. Martin steps in onto the elevator, Shrike moving to his side.

After only a few hundred feet of Martin manually turning the crank, each rotation a display of his physique, the elevator lets out in a cavern. Warm air within is a pleasant change from the cold surface. Inside this new cavern is a much more modern elevator, and a set of circular stairs next to it. More interestingly, though, is the six foot something bipedal lizard creature appraising them.

The lizard person is almost invisible against the rock until it moves, revealing a dazzling array of brown patterns that weave along its brown and tan scales. It wears only a modified version of a loincloth that accommodates for its broad tail. It barely seems to react to the pair that entered its domain. The creatures observes Shrike and Martin for a long moment, before speaking in English while carefully pronouncing each word.

"What are your names?" it asks, its nictitating membrane wetting its eyes.

"I'm Martin, this is Shrike. We're the hunters your people sent for."

"You are welcome to our city," it flatly says, casually flicking its tail towards the elevator before continuing to stand guard, completely ignoring them now that its business is concluded. Shrike looks at him for a moment longer, before proceeding to the elevator with her partner. There are only two buttons: an up arrow, and a down arrow. Shrike presses the down arrow, and the elevator creaks to life, and starts slowly accelerating on its descent.

After a time, the elevator finally starts slowing, before coming to a halt entirely after only a couple minutes. The door opens, revealing a dome-shaped cave, every wall covered in thousands of small chips and tool marks. A few MBR support staff and an FBI agent are tensely mingling with a pair of lizard people. Though the cavern is mostly empty, it is well lit with a complex system of lighting: a mix of modern electrical lights, bioluminescence, and fire.

The torches in particular don't help fact that it's hot down here, at least 90°. The lizard people themselves seem to be a mix of different species, from skinks to side-blotched to horned. All wear very similar clothing: a simple loincloth, through they come in numerous colors and patterns. Jewelry is common as well, typically consisting of unique strings of rocks worn around the neck. One lizard person methodically paces over to them.

Vertical yellow bands run along its smooth scales, fading into a brilliant blue tail and revealing its origin as some species of skink.

"Martin and Shrike." It says.

"That's right. That makes you Tetatet." Martin says, careful to pronounce the name correctly.

"Yes. Follow me." Tetatet clambers into one of the tunnels connected to the entrance, Shrike and Martin following close behind. Every wall is labelled by an impenetrable code of numbers, a ten by ten grid with some squares filled, and an arrow with a different number written above it. It's only around forty seconds of walking and climbing before Tetatet steps through a curtain made of sandstone beads hung on string. Shrike and Martin exchange a brief glance before entering behind him.

The other side is a furnished meeting space of some kind. Stone stools surround a black stone table, polished to a mirror shine. Several other lizard people are inside as well, talking about some kind of stone problem in a pidgin of English and their own squeaking and head-bobbing language. Tetatet sits, briefly saying something to another lizard person in their own language, who scurries from the room.

"In the interest of time," Tetatet says, "I will go over commonly asked questions. You may refer to us as sabman and sabmans, meaning 'sandstone people'. We do not separate along sex in our society, as we have few notable distinctions. You may use 'he' for all of us, for simplicity. We are descended from magic surges imbuing normal lizards in the area, which took the humanoid form. We breed normally, as lizards do. You may ask questions now." He looks at them both, patiently, unreadable.

"Do you have somewhere I can charge a battery?" Shrike asks.

"Yes. We have provided a standard electrical socket in each of the guest rooms you will be staying in for the next few days."

"Then that is all." Shrike turns to Martin, seeing if he had questions of his own. Martin takes a slow breath. It's already far beyond his comfort zone, but for some reason the idea of charging his phone a mile beneath the earth is what's throwing him. The other sabman who left earlier returns with some kind of dish made primarily with whole, boiled crickets. Tetatet wordlessly starts eating. Martin takes a deep breath, and hesitantly bites a cricket.

It's inexplicably spicy and horribly gooey, but he chokes it down. He's eaten crickets before, but these aren't even cooked fully or peeled.

"This food is not suitable for human consumption, or my own." Shrike says after a tentative bite of her own. Martin shushes her.

"Sorry. Forgive her. She doesn't mean to be rude." Tetatet bobs his head for a moment.

"We were unaware of its inedibility. We have been feeding this to human visitors for some time, and none had yet mentioned it. We also have many root vegetables, cactus, lichens, and we raise chickens." Shrike smiles pleasantly, happy to help.

"Chicken that has been cooked until white throughout and vegetables boiled until soft but not soggy would be a typical human meal."

"Thank you for this information. Gakega will make the meal immediately." He bobs his head again at the sabman who provided the crickets, as Gakega takes their inedible dishes away. Martin smiles nervously. Relations with the sabman have always been tense, especially lately after a recent oil vein was struck near a population center. It led to several hundred sabman requiring relocation, which was a cultural faux pas. Tetatet's tone remains passive as he speaks more.

"Shrike, we have been told you are not human and use concentrated sunlight to create objects. You are additionally prone to violence if Martin is in danger, but in general are docile. Is this an accurate summation?"

"Yes," Shrike replies, "and as an additional note, I cannot make any complicated implements with my ability, and my reserve is dictated by access to sunlight."

"Thank you, Shrike. Martin, we have been told you are a highly competent magical beast hunter with a wide amount of knowledge. Further, you are protective of Shrike, and in the event she is injured you are likely to stop being useful for the remainder of your stay. Is this accurate?"

"I don't know about not being useful, I mean... I'd probably check if she's okay, and-""Thank you, Martin." Tetatet cuts Martin off without remorse.

"We have a problem which will require full attention immediately at nine AM tomorrow. Please be ready by then, both of you. The issue is some type of solid-rock magical beast, which we are having great difficulty in dispatching." He turns to face Shrike exclusively.

"Further, if Shrike is capable after, we would like to borrow her ability to create solid projections to brace a new tunnel for about four minutes while we set up temporary steel bracing. Please confirm your ability."

"I cannot, I am unfamiliar with the load I will be bearing."

"Approximately 800 pounds static weight."

"This is acceptable, provided I save energy during the fight."

"Excellent. Thank you, Shrike."

"You are welcome." The new meals are set down in front of Shrike and Martin. The chicken is a bit dry, but it is leagues beyond the inedible mess offered before. Martin chews with relief, while Shrike nods once at Tetatet.

"This is significantly better. Thank you for your accomodation. You are an ideal host."

"You are welcome. We can provide similar meals upon request throughout your stay."

"Would this exact one be possible tomorrow at roughly eight AM?"

"Yes. Gakega will arrange it. You are easy to speak with, Shrike. Humans bury their intentions beneath too many layers of subtext."

"I cannot disagree. We will sleep after eating."

"Very well. Your sleeping accommodations are immediately to the right of this entrance. I shall see you both tomorrow." Tetatet gets up from the table, the other sabmans following him, leaving Martin and Shrike alone in the hot cavern.

"Shrike." Martin watches her eat. It's the same way she eats at home: more slowly than in public, her head not darting around to face any unexpected sound. She looks over to him, a faint smile resting comfortably as she eats.

"I have found people who share my communication style, it seems."

"Yeah... I guess you did. Sorry for shushing you. Disrespecting their food seemed rude, but they appreciated it." You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

"There was no disrespect intended. It was a simple observation of fact. It was not an insult to the chef anymore than it is an insult to correct someone using a screwdriver incorrectly." She looks around, eyes lingering on the ornate wall markings.

"Since there was no instruction given, we should leave our plates here after we're done, I believe."

"Have you been here before? You seem to know how everything works already." Martin looks around the hot cave. The ancient stone doesn't betray the age of the cavern itself.

"I do not know, but I believe not." Martin tersely smiles, eating a bit more quickly. The beds are stone. Of course they're stone, he thinks. Shrike is happily relaxing, but it's far too hot and too hard for him. He's not going to get an ounce of sleep. Shrike looks over at his constantly shifting form, concerned.

"Are you uncomfortable?"

"I mean, yeah. I'm laying on a rock in the burning heat. If I were a lizard, I'm sure this would be the perfect place to sleep."

"I see. Just a moment." She steps out of the room, Martin trying to stop her. Inedible food is one thing, but these are guest accommodations. Shrike returns with a sabman, of horned lizard origin.

"Explain the issue." he demands. His tone is neutral, dark eyes fixed on Martin. Martin coughs nervously.

"Oh, there's no issue, don't-""He is overheating," Shrike interrupts, "Humans prefer lower temperatures, around 70° to 75°. Additionally, they sleep on large pads of cloth rather than stone."

"I can provide a cooling unit we use in deeper mines, and multiple extra blankets to use."

"That would be ideal. Thank you."

"You are needed tomorrow. Your rest is paramount." The sabman steps away, down into the maze of tunnels Martin ignores Shrike's smug stare. Martin gets up with a stretch, rolling off his makeshift bed and turning off the air conditioner that is placed by the door. Shrike is already awake, speaking with a sabman. Martin listens to the conversation. It's rare he gets to hear her talk to anyone when she thinks he can't hear.

"Yes. I am non-human. I am a kynde. It is a magical beast with a human form but widely variable innate abilities."

"I understand. Will your abilities assist with the stone beast?"

"To some small extent, we will be relying on Martin."

"Very well." The sabman glances over at Martin, before stepping back into the warmer hallway.

"It's directly ahead." Tetatet explains.

"Currently there are three survivors trapped in the sealed tunnel."

"How are they saved?" Shrike asks.

"Death of the beast would allow for their retrieval." Shrike nods at Martin, who gives the signal for a steel door to be opened. Shrike slides down from the high tunnel onto the floor of the cavern, the ladder having been tossed aside by the monster. The beast is indeed made completely of layered gray stone yet remains completely mobile, vaguely like the aluminum sentry they fought some time ago. Martin had stated there was no easy core to target here, just a few dozen large rocks around a central, boxy boulder.

Shrike sends a spike out, crashing into the beast, barely chipping a few shards of rock off if it. The monster rearranges the rocks on its body from a bipedal lumbering form, creating another pair of legs to more quickly advance on Shrike. She summons a couple barriers to impede it, but it easily breaks through as it charges. She sprints out of the way, and summons more barely a foot in front of it. This time, they don't shatter when it tries to move through them. It's made of slate.

Martin thinks back to a geology seminar back in training. Metamorphic, derived from shale, retaining its fissility... it's a rock that flakes away in layers. If he can catch it at the side angle...

"Shrike, expose its side!" She sets up another barrier to her right, circling the monster slowly, keeping it from gaining speed to weaponize against her. As soon as the edge of the boulder is revealed, he rapidly fires all six shots, speedloading another six in. The multi-layered bullets work as expected, one of the half dozen materials they're made of doing the job. The monster's torso has a large crack in it now.

He fires six more as Shrike draws its attention again, splitting the beast in half with a chalky ripping sound. Shrike stays still, keeping her barrier up, waiting to see if it forms back together somehow. It does not. After a moment, the sealed exit is opened, and several sabmen come over to briefly congratulate them both. The three survivors in hiding shakily crawl out, emaciated and dehydrated. How long were they in here? Martin thinks.

Shrike doesn't seem to notice, but he recognizes their condition as they stumble away from the room. Martin tries to brush away the unpleasant spur digging in the back of his mind. It doesn't make sense. It took them hours of travel, they had two meals, they slept in a bit for God's sake... He walks with Shrike as she is taken to the next objective, the dry, flaking scales of the survivors in his mind. He can't shake it.

"Tetatet, how long were the survivors inside that cavern?" The sabman turns his pointed snout horizontally in line with his shoulder, while still walking forward. The single visible eye watches him.

"It is not relevant knowledge." The observing lasts a moment longer, before it once again faces forward.

"We are here. Martin, you will be escorted to your lodging by Gakega. This area is unstable." Tetatet doesn't turn around, as Gakega grabs his arm firmly, pulling him away. Shrike turns around to watch, concerned but silent. Why is Martin being escorted for safety? Tetatet remains here, and he seems important. Martin mentioned survivors... it is concerning. She turns away as Martin is escorted down a tunnel, and observes the room she will be bracing. A single cracking pillar waits in the center.

A large fracture is near the center, sheared diagonally, the upper and lower halves partially slid apart. She wishes Martin were here.

"Explain my exact placement of the bracing."

"Around the central pillar in a ring, not pushing on the fault, but keeping it from slipping further." She nods, before looking across and seeing movement.

"Tetatet, there is someone inside. You need to evacuate them."

"There are only four in total. Their deaths are accounted for. The tunnel will be detonated from above with an explosive, but the pillar must stay intact for the demolition to progress properly. The four below are behind a collapsed section of wall. To remove the wall would destroy the tunnel's fragile integrity, making detonation impossible." His eye watches her from the side. Surely this one won't have the human compunctions that made it so difficult to get assistance in the first place.

"Then you scuttle the room. It is the obvious conclusion."

"These tunnels are carved by artisan hands over years. More valuable than the four inside."

"I see. There is no alternative, I assume, or you would have said so." Simple. Allow four to die, complete the mission.

"You can let go now, Gakega." Martin is sitting on the pile of blankets laid on the stone bed, but Gakega retains his grip.

"I will not. Tetatet believes you to be a hazard to the objective." He should have trusted his instinct.

"And why is that?"

"Human morality is often incompatible with our own." Damn it... They won't hurt Shrike, but what's the implication? Shrike drops down into the tunnel and onto a projection she creates, despite Tetatet's objections. By creating a series of projections in front of her, she forms a slippery but stable bridge. She finds the four sabmans, all huddled in a low corner visible through a small hole in the wall: three children and an adult.

"I am Shrike. I have come to rescue you." The adult shakes his head.

"We were informed of our deaths. Lies are unwelcome, human."

"The situation has altered. Remain still." She can't cut through solid rock, but instead prods at every loose stone, slowly moving them away. Just in case Tetatet takes the 'practical solution', she has a barrier at her back. Within an hour, she's managed a hole large enough for the children. The last one will take more time.

"The children may advance." Despite the reptilian faces, Shrike recognizes relief and gratitude. As they climb on the platform, a loud scraping rumble rings out. The column is slipping, earlier than Tetatet predicted. Shrike summons a large spike above her platform, with the intention of letting the ceiling collapse, and the rocks rolling off the slippery angled surface. She did not expect the actual mass of the rock above her. Her projection starts to crack. The rocks keep coming.

Soon, an explosion is faintly heard over the incredible rushing sound of rocks, and with a final drop, there is nothing left to fall but dust. Gathering more light after this will be unpleasant. With a final look back at the mass of rocks where the adult she left behind was, she ushers the children to the edge of the tunnel she started from. Tetatet watches dispassionately, as the children scurry away down the winding paths. There's no emotion on his face.

"You have partially failed in the secondary objective. Cleanup will take months, but eventually may be recoverable. You will now leave."

"Very well." Shrike nods, awkwardly standing by the lip of the now significantly less steep drop. Tetatet gives a final passing look.

"My heart is devoted to the people who I promised this cavern as a home for, to the artisans who dug out the cave, to the future generations that may suffer a permanent loss by its destruction. Individuals, myself included, are not worth damaging the future over. We are not gifted with endless sky, as humans are. We are custodians of our own creations. I suggest you do not return." The elevator ride up is as long as it was going down.

"Martin."

"Yeah, Shrike?" He already heard the explanation of what happened, and praised her for making the right call. She still seems bothered, but not by the sabman she left behind in the cave-in. She sits down on the elevator, eyes unfocused and hazy, not exclusively from exhaustion.

"I do not fit with any society, I believe. I have no grief for acquaintances like humans have, and I refused to let the children die as the sabmans instructed. Even with you, we must go through numerous measures simply to share a home. We are partners despite the fit. I apologize if this comes across incorrectly, but even with you, I am feeling lonely." Martin sits down next to her, gently hugging her as the elevator slowly creeps up the shaft.

"I appreciate what you're saying, but from my perspective? You're surrounded by people who care about you... let me give you an analogy. Remember Antelope Island, and the pelicans?"

"Yes." Her mouth flicks up slightly at the memory.

"They weren't alone, right? There were all sorts of other weird birds as well, all mixed together in one big flock. You're a rare bird, Shrike, but you've got a big flock." Shrike is silent for a few minutes, listening to the elevator, before laughing to herself.

"I do not know what my thought process was analogous to when I rescued the children. I think... I am different. From everyone, of all species."

"You're always you, no matter what changes." Martin pats her shoulder, but her smile stays hollow. They spend the rest of the elevator ride in silence, listening to the straining tension of the steel cables pulling them up to the surface. Shrike is dreaming. She is alone, as in all her dreams. The snow falls softly in the trees. Different trees. Less oppressive, more comforting. She curls up on the ground, letting the snow slowly cover her.

She feels herself slipping away from the world, as she freezes over, awaiting. Then, someone calls her name. Her eyes crack open. She's by the fireplace at home, the day after the sabman mission. She checks the battery on her clothes, and with a last look, opens the door to the rising sun. She only partially knows where she's going, but it doesn't matter. She'll find it. Away from Martin, away from all the other humans, away from everyone. She takes a bus, being driven far from her home, and into the mountains.

A fully charged battery, and the backup battery as well. Shrike quiets her mind, and lets her instinct take over as she starts her hike. She carefully moves up the slippery ice of the hill, far off trail, eyes squinting against the reflection of the midday sun reflecting off the crystalline snow. Shrike remembered something last night. Something she needs to confirm, that would help her understand. The trees here look familiar, she thinks. She searches every snow bank. Every tree well. Every corner of stone.

Until there it is. The area is disturbed by many long-covered footprints. She finds the space between two rocks she used last hibernation, and digs beneath where she rested for decades. A rotted wicker basket, taken in quivering hands. She brushes the top of it off, looking inside. A spearpoint chipped away by time and wear until it was unrecognizable to anyone but her. A broken bone fishing hook, nearly disintegrated after all this time, that had won her a friendly wager with a friend.

A single stone glyph, taken from a larger work that told a story of an important ball game she remembered being told while watching the stars one night. A sharp shard of obsidian, once a part of a weapon she remembers destroying in objection to something. A conopa, a llama shaped jar, carved and buried by someone she no longer remembers but desperately wishes she could. A coin with no meaning, a hollow attempt at replicating a sacred tradition, a reminder of what she could be missing.

She carefully wraps each item in cloth, before placing them in her backpack. She looks one last time at the small fold in the rock, before cautiously descending back down the mountain. As night falls, she enters back into her current home. Somewhere she will dispossess, within a fraction of a fraction of her lifetime. She lines all of her mementos in front of the fireplace, letting the fire cast their shadows across the floor. She hears the door open, Martin frantically talking to Possum as he runs up the stairs.

Opie sniffles and lays down next to her, watching the fire with her for a moment. Shrike doesn't remember when she started crying. Maybe she has been all day. Possum calls Opie away, and Martin starts saying something she can't quite understand. He sits next to Shrike, talking rapidly, until his head turns to what she is looking at. His heart sinks, his voice staggered.

"Shrike." She hears that much, at least. Her head turns, while her eyes do not. Her face is slick, tears falling down her chin dripping into her lap.

"Martin." His cold hands hold her tightly. Like he did when she woke up after the Refraction. Like he did when she broke out of her pre-hibernation torpor. Like he always does. He speaks softly into her ear, hesitantly.

"When you're in your next cycle, and the next, and the next after that, I hope there'll be a good memory attached to what you bring from this one."