Zog held his hands defensively, his towel slipping slightly from its makeshift holster. “I didn’t realise it was that important! We need… something to fix our ship so we can leave your planet and never bother you again!”
The Root’s glowing patterns dimmed slightly, its tone softening—if only slightly.
“YOU WISH TO LEAVE?” it boomed. “AND HERE I THOUGHT YOU’D COME TO PAY HOMAGE TO MY GLORIOUS ROOTNESS. HOW DISAPPOINTING.”
Zog hesitated, his anxiety temporarily overridden by confusion. “Wait, you want us to stay?”
“NO!” the Root barked with a dramatic flourish of its tendrils. “THAT WAS SARCASM. DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND THE CONCEPT?”
The glowing patterns on the cavern walls shifted, forming intricate, mesmerising designs. The Root paused, its massive form leaning closer to Zog and Blip.
“IF YOU TRULY WISH TO LEAVE,” it said, its tone now more measured, “THEN PERHAPS WE CAN STRIKE A BARGAIN. MY COOLANT POOLS ARE THE LIFEBLOOD OF MY EXISTENCE. TO TAKE FROM THEM WOULD BE AN AFFRONT TO MY VERY BEING.”
“That’s a no, then,” Blip said, flicking dust off his metal paw.
“BUT… MY DESCENDANTS ABOVE GROUND HAVE MANY TALENTS. THEY ARE NOT JUST OBSERVERS OR GUARDIANS. THEY POSSESS SKILLS PASSED DOWN THROUGH ROOT MEMORY.”
“Root memory?” Zog asked, frowning.
“A TRIVIAL TERM FOR OUR SHARED KNOWLEDGE. BUT I DIGRESS!” The Root straightened, puffing itself up proudly. “MY CACTI CAN CREATE. THEY CAN FORM OBJECTS FROM THE VERY AIR AND MATERIALS AROUND THEM. YOUR PEOPLE MIGHT CALL IT… PRINTING.”
Blip tilted his head. “Like 3D printing?”
“YES, IF YOU WISH TO BE PEDESTRIAN ABOUT IT.” The Root’s glow intensified. “BUT DO NOT UNDERESTIMATE THEIR ABILITIES. WHAT THEY CREATE IS STRONGER, MORE EFFICIENT, AND INFINITELY MORE PRICKLY THAN ANYTHING YOUR PITIFUL SHIP CAN PRODUCE.”
Zog hesitated, his processor racing. “So… you’d let your cacti repair our ship?”
“PERHAPS,” the Root said, swaying slightly. “BUT ONLY IF YOU CAN PROVE YOUR WORTH.”
“Prove our worth?” Zog asked, panic rising in his voice. “How?”
The Root’s voice grew quieter, almost conspiratorial, though it still boomed in their minds.
“I HAVE BEEN LONELY HERE IN MY TUNNELS. ENTERTAIN ME. SHARE A TALE OF YOUR HOMEWORLD, YOUR ADVENTURES, YOUR BLUNDERS. SHOW ME WHY YOUR EXISTENCE IS WORTH THE EFFORT OF HELPING YOU.”
Blip snorted. “You want him to tell a story? This ought to be good.”
“Shut up, Blip,” Zog muttered, then turned back to the Root. “Alright, fine. Do you want a story? I’ll give you a story.”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Zog launches into a fumbling but heartfelt recounting of his life on Spuroxi-5, from the predictable routine of his trash compression job to the absurdity of Gravity Weirdness Day. As he speaks, the glowing lines on the walls pulse in rhythm with his words, and the Root occasionally interjects with overdramatic commentary:
“AND THIS GRAVITY WEIRDNESS DAY… HOW DID IT NOT DESTROY YOU ALL?”
“I mean, sometimes it almost did.”
“EXCELLENT. CONTINUE.”
By the end, the Root seems oddly moved by Zog’s story.
“YOUR EXISTENCE IS… STRANGE. BUT NOT WITHOUT MERIT. VERY WELL, HUMANOID.”
When they return to the surface, the sentient cacti are waiting, their spines vibrating faintly as they gather around The Indifference. With uncanny precision, the cacti begin to work, their sharp spines emitting beams of energy that fuse damaged parts and create entirely new components.
“Are they… printing new parts for the ship?” Zog asked, his voice tinged with awe.
Blip watched silently, then finally muttered, “I’ll never look at cacti the same way again.”
The Root’s voice echoed faintly in their minds, even from underground:
“REMEMBER THIS, HUMANOID. YOU OWE YOUR FREEDOM TO THE ROOT OF ALL CACTI. SPREAD MY LEGEND FAR AND WIDE. ALSO, DON’T COME BACK.”
Zog nodded solemnly. “Deal.”
As Zog and Blip watched, the cacti began to surround The Indifference. Their spines vibrated softly, emitting faint pulses of light that seemed to sync with the glowing patterns on the cavern walls.
“They’re… reading my mind,” Zog whispered, clutching his helmet nervously.
“Great,” Blip muttered. “Now they know how terrible your taste in breakfast is.”
A low hum filled the air as the cacti started their work. Tendrils of light arced from their spines, shaping raw materials seemingly pulled from thin air. Each pulse created a new piece of the ship’s missing components: a reinforced hull panel here, a stabiliser rod there.
Zog stared in awe. “This is incredible. They’re making exactly what I need.”
Blip tilted his head. “What about me? Do I get a say?”
Before Zog could answer, the pulsing shifted. A new object began forming—a perfectly crafted mechanical bone, glowing faintly as it solidified before Blip.
Blip’s tail wagged furiously. “Now, this is service! Forget the ship; I’m staying here.”
Another pulse and a bright red ball appeared, bouncing lightly at Blip’s feet. He pounced on it, barking in delight. “You know, Zog, I’m starting to like these cacti.”
Zog sighed, watching Blip chase the ball around the cavern. “Can you focus for five minutes? We’re trying to fix the ship.”
As the repairs continued, Zog’s mind began to wander. The rhythmic pulsing of the cacti, combined with the faint hum of the cavern, was strangely soothing. He felt a flicker of calm for the first time since the mission began. He let his thoughts drift—away from the ship, the heat, the stress—and, for a moment, pictured something completely different.
It started with a face—kind, intelligent, and framed by soft, metallic hair—a humanoid face.
The pulsing stopped abruptly.
Zog blinked, snapping out of his reverie. “Uh… why did they—”
Before he could finish, the air in front of him shimmered. Tendrils of light wove together, shaping arms, legs, and a graceful form. The glowing patterns solidified, and standing before him was a stunningly crafted female humanoid.
Zog’s circuits buzzed with panic. “Oh no. Oh no, no, no.”
Blip skidded to a stop, his bone clutched in his mouth. He tilted his head, then dropped the bone with a loud clunk. “Well, this just got interesting.”
The humanoid blinked, her glowing eyes locking onto Zog. She tilted her head, mirroring his expression of sheer bewilderment.
“Uh… hi?” Zog managed, his voice cracking slightly.
Blip sidled up to him, a smug grin on his metallic face. “You’ve got some explaining to do, Romeo.”
“It was an accident!” Zog hissed, his voice rising. He turned to the cacti, who vibrated faintly as if laughing silently. “I wasn’t trying to—she’s not—oh, forget it!”
The humanoid tilted her head again, then spoke in a smooth, melodic voice. “I am… here to assist.”
Blip snorted. “Well, at least she’s polite. Can she fix the ship too, or is she just here to stare at you like you’re the last bolt in the galaxy?”