Clear Waters
21 Sep 2023Ryuko Ntsikana
Audio Portion at bottom, for listening convenience.
Part Eight.
Clear Waters.
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Zooey physically shivered, attempting to express a concern she could not define, as her symbiotic entity consoled her. There was nothing to fear in the coming operation. The ending results would provide them both with a beneficial outcome, allowing for her to rebuild parts of her that had been lost. This was not the fear the child-like mind of Zooey was having. How does the shattered mind, that has never seen a monster define what hides under its bed or lurking in the closet– always watching and listening in the dark, on the edge of vision.
In its earlier hosts, their inner darkness was nearer the surface. In its most recent past host, like Inspector Gladsen, it was present but buried deep under rules of law and morality. In the sweet childlike and lost innocence of this form of Zooey, it had not been seen or experienced. In her mentally damaged state, it was “out of sight and out of mind.” The shades of a form that went through her thoughts were of a non-definable darkness. Her entity noted its lack of shape and form. Stress prior to surgery was a normal response. A response it would guard and protect her from as her biochemistry was adjusted.
As her mind quieted brief images of people and places flashed through, in no discernible order. These were the stray thoughts the neural processor would help to save and categorize. A requirement to begin rebuilding a piece of her prior self.
The breeze continued through the tall grass, as the prey relaxed. Visions of its own past blinked into and out of view. After images of a time that was crucial for remolding herself, into what she should have always been. The eyes from within its shadows watched and waited. The symbiote nursing its charge next to the clear waters. Its essence would aid in this reshaping, both before and after the fact, whether agreed to … or not.
The large capital ship entered into the orbit of a quaint moon in the backwater sector of space. Far removed from the nearest humanity. Brief flickers of thruster jets fired as tiny drones maneuvered along various points outside the hull of its internal engineering department. Figures in suits could be seen, working along its surface. Arc flashes of torches and fine nanoparticle mist could be seen, among the dark backdrop.
Inside crews worked, repairing the structural fractures caused by the aggressive hyperspace jumping the ship had been put through. Under normal conditions, minor repairs would be required, which in themselves required little time to accomplish. The never-ceasing repetitive jumping over the past couple of days, had caused extensive damages, that would take more than an equal amount of time to repair. The large fusion reactors themselves needed to be purged and cleaned. Several of their electromagnets, used to channel the enormous temperatures of the plasma streams, needed to be replaced.
Xochitl looked back aft of the hull section she was tethered to. Watching teams of engineers and androids, fixing the fissures that had developed along its length. A drone flew up next to her, as she unhooked herself from the hull and onto its small mass. Securing the nanoparticulate spray nozzle to a ring on her suit, she motioned with her hand, as the drone’s thrusters puffed, ferrying her down the aft section towards another crew, which was finishing their welding.
Monty was not an engineer or a mechanic and the ship already had a head of security. What he could do was help those working by joining in with the clan’s elders to shuttle supplies and sustenance to those who were working, to get their ship right again. During one of his runs, he chanced upon Xochitl’s dad, Carlos. The sharp metallic scent of ozone permeated the corridor, causing Monty to wrinkle his nose, as Carlos watched the readouts on his tablet.
Monty took a step back as a rushing sound, intermingled with the crackling sound of static discharges, raced past him and down the length of the corridor, as the high-energy plasma conduit purged.
Without taking his eyes from the tablet, Carlos cracked a smile at Monty’s instinctive reaction.
“You get used to it,” Carlos commented, nodding his head in approval of what was showing on his tablet. Monty looked at the bulkhead with a questioning look.
“What you heard was the passage of the residual energy purging from the plasma conduit. I had to send it out a different route due to the work going on in the aft section of the ship.”
Monty scanned the corridor, looking at people and androids moving with a purpose, to wherever it was they were going, without seeming to care about the noise or the smell.
“I have seen you around but we have not been properly introduced. I am Carlos Khae.”
Monty shook the offered hand, feeling the tight grip of one who had used his hands for his labors.
“I have seen my share of what plasma can do, but will not even start to guess what it is you just said,” Monty commented, looking back at the bulkhead, as Carlos nodded.
“A standard safety procedure during maintenance. It also helps to maintain its efficiency by preventing the buildup of contaminants or byproducts.”
Monty nodded, somewhat understanding the concept, but not the process itself.
“Your daughter is an old hand at this?” Monty asked, turning his head to look at Carlos.
Carlos nodded, meeting the inspector’s look. “She was tuning magnetic containment fields almost before she learned how to walk.”
Monty shook his head, noting the tone of a proud dad. “How the heck did she end up with all of this? Someone like her, shouldn’t she be working with one of the big ship manufacturers or designing the next generation of ships?”
Carlos shrugged. “She was working for your people, the Federation, before the accident.”
Monty studied Carlos for a moment, listening intently. “That changed her more than physically I bet.”
Carlos looked down at the final readouts blinking on his tablet. “Yes, and no.”
Monty understood the statement. He had seen plenty of Federation agents who had survived traumatic experiences. They were the same, but different. He could say the same for himself, after his time as a host for a sentient entity.
Monty glanced down the corridor once more. “Now she is a capital ship owner and the leader of a nomadic space clan. Chasing after a young girl, who by rights should have died, but was saved and taken away by an entity, to whatever awaits them out there. Tell me. How does that work?”
“Hard to separate the inspector from the man. Even after their recent experiences.” Carlos commented, studying Monty.
Monty shrugged. “What I am here for. To track them down. Whatever it is she thinks she can do, if we do catch them, she is wrong.”
Carlos eyed Monty for a moment. “I would not be too sure of that last statement. Like you said, she should have died, but she didn’t. It saved her. The same can be said for the doctor and yourself. Outside of the escaped prisoner, no one was harmed directly by it. Now that it is a part of Zooey, means that Zooey is also a part of it.”
Monty shuffled his feet for a moment. “I know this thing … intimately. If it doesn’t want her interfering, it will prevent it. As headstrong as your daughter is, things could get ugly, fast.”
Carlos placed his hand on the bulkhead. “It is her place, as the Targitai, to go there.”
“Help me to understand that,” Monty quipped. “I understand the definition, from my own research. But, there is always more to the story, than what’s on a page.”
“It is our heritage. From as far back as our family story goes. From the time of the Massagetae and Targitai, through the eons till this present day. Now our people are intermixed and scattered among the stars…”
“Like your first name,” Monty interrupted. “Carlos is not a name from the era you are speaking of.”
Carlos smiled. “No, it is not. Like I said … intermingled. Just like my daughter. A product of Scythian and Aztec cultures.”
Monty laughed. “Well, that explains her temper.”
Carlos had to laugh in agreement at that. “You haven’t met her mother yet.”
As it has been understood for eons, the rooster ruled the roost but the hen ruled the rooster. Of the two, Miahuaxihuitl had the milder temper. Doctor Mia, as she was known, was a brilliant physicist and propulsion specialist. Her world on board the ship was with the universal cartographer's section. If she had an opinion on the latest developments it would be one of relief. They had finally stopped long enough for her and the other doctor she worked with, to perform proper scanning of the surrounding systems.
Like some of the other elders, Mia was not comfortable having her daughter chase after a created incorporeal sentient being. Especially one that could infest and infect both technological and biological with equal ease. Now it resided inside the body of an unfortunate girl, whom it had saved, then vanished with amongst the surrounding stars. A girl that all understood was a defacto part of the clan, and hence Xochitl, being the name bearer and leader, had to make the effort, but not all were cheering for her success.