Dressed in their aether gear, Raivyn and Vanbrook descended the stairs in the tower, walking down into an underwater world. Their heavy gear allowed them to stay grounded to the steps, which seemed to go on forever.
The stairwell was made of the same smooth, multicolored stones and biologically-sourced mortar as the rest of the tower. The walls were decorated with swirling lines of a softly glowing blue film that provided light as they descended.
"Your scientists call it something that sounds like 'bilumescent algi,'" said Chreep, seeing their gaze. He was wearing an air-filled helmet and a microphone so he would be able to translate for the council. "We call it glow moss."
Vanbrook nodded, admiring the architecture as they exited the long stairway and could look back at the tower they had descended through. It rose up over a hundred feet from the lakebed to where it pierced above the surface.
They plodded along the sandy floor to a collection of small stone huts built in and around a massive rock formation jutting up out of the lakebed. The houses were outlined by more of the glow moss, formed into the same delicate swirling patterns that they had seen in the stairwell.
Village business, completely invisible from the surface, appeared to be thriving down below. Shairet swam and scuttled to and fro; a sizable number tended to a large bed of aquatic vegetation bearing the large green fruits that made up a sizable portion of their diet, while children tossed colored stones back and forth in some kind of game and a group of weavers made mats and articles of clothing. A smith of some kind leaned out of an overhang in the rock that appeared to be filled with air, quenching his latest creation in the lake water. Looking closely, Vanbrook watched the smith retreat back into the rock, presumably into a workroom filled with air rather than water. Despite the weighty nature of their visit, Vanbrook couldn’t help but be amazed and impressed by the underwater village.
Chreep led them to a particularly large structure that stood in the middle of the others. Inside, Raivyn and Vanbrook realized that it was a kind of longhouse. It was only one massive room, a long, low-lying table taking up most of the floor space. The table was adorned with a very dense pattern of glow moss, lighting up the features of the half dozen or so Shairet who sat around it.
A whistling and chirping noise filled the room.
“The council asks you to join them at the table,” translated Chreep.
Raivyn and Vanbrook obliged, sitting down cross-legged and placing their hands on their knees, mirroring the council’s body language. The lead council member resumed her speech and Chreep continued to translate.
“Raivyn of the Griffon Republic. We are told that you are a psychic, and that you used your abilities to clear the spider apes from the orchard,” he said. “We are grateful for your aid in saving our children, but find the use of psychic powers extremely upsetting. What if you were to succumb to the madness?”
***
Far overhead, Darvik watched over Cevla. They had been orbiting Gateway for a little while, charging their shields for their final jump back to Koomia.
Cevla’s sleep had become much more peaceful and her eyes had closed, but she showed no signs of waking up. He had taken to checking in on her occasionally, but he was by no means a doctor and could only guess that the more peaceful disposition was a sign she was recovering. Just as he was about to turn and leave the room, her eyes snapped open, glowing with bloody crimson light.
***
“The madness?” asked Raivyn. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
Chreep took a moment to translate to the council and then interpret their response. “The madness. Our ancestors found that those who used powers such as yours would go mad, chanting the names of wicked gods and becoming gibbering fools or dangerous maniacs.”
“I have never heard of any such thing,” huffed Raivyn irritably.
It was the sort of thing the anti-psychic and superstitious would conjure up to scare people. Psychics were largely accepted as a part of life in the Griffon Republic, and many cultures held them in high regard, but as long as there were differences between people, there would be those who resented the difference.
“Nonetheless, it is our experience,” said Chreep.
***
Darvik took a few steps back.
“Cevla?” he asked, his hand instinctively reaching for his saber.
Cevla turned her head, crimson orbs locking onto Darvik. “T’Lak. T’Lak. T’Lak.”
“Yeah, it was nearby when you collapsed,” said Darvik cautiously.
A burst of T-waves exploded from Cevla’s mind, throwing Darvik into the wall.
***
“And what do you do with those among you with psychic abilities?” asked Raivyn pointedly.
Chreep squirmed, but quickly translated the question.
“Depends on the tribe,” came the answer. “Some worship them as prophets of the gods, some kill them. We send psychics of our tribe into exile.”
Raivyn gritted her teeth.
***
Darvik woke from a brief blackout to find Cevla standing over him, her head cocked to the side, repeating the name over and over.
“T’Lak. T’Lak. T’Lak.”
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Standing up with a burst of movement, Darvik threw his weight against Cevla, causing her to stagger back and fall onto her bed. He darted from the room, slamming the door as he went.
“Rentra!” he shouted into his comm. “Bring one of those door locks!”
***
“Raivyn is not mad,” said Vanbrook defiantly.
Chreep stared at him a moment, unsure about his place in the conversation. Vanbrook glared at him, and Chreep relayed the statement.
“Perhaps Humans are differ- ” started Chreep.
“In fact,” interrupted Vanbrook, “she’s the sanest member of Talon Squad. She’s saved my skin I don’t know how many times, including, on a recent occasion, me from my own stupidity. If you want to scoff at the Progenitor’s gifts, go ahead, but don’t you dare come after Raivyn, or any of the other psychics in the Republic for that matter. Who knows how many lives she saved by defeating the spider apes so efficiently.”
***
Cevla took a moment to recover and start moving towards the door again, which was enough time for Rentra to run over with one of the magnetic lock devices they had used on the Gladius. Slamming it onto the door and activating it, Darvik looked up to see Cevla’s face staring at him through the porthole in the door.
“T’Lak. T’Lak. T’Lak.”
The strange chant was muffled as Cevla pushed against the door, soon giving up and settling for pacing around her new enclosure, glowing eyes frantically searching her surroundings. She stood trembling for a moment, then screamed one last time, “T’LAK!”
The door buckled outward and Darvik was again taken off his feet by a burst of T-waves. He recovered quickly and pulled his saber, ready to be attacked, but the door held. Then he noticed how quiet it had become.
***
Silence reigned in the longhouse for a moment after Chreep hesitantly translated Vanbrook’s defense of Raivyn. The councilors looked around the table at one another, then the leader spoke.
“You give us much to think about, Raivyn and Vanbrook,” translated Chreep. “But understand that our ways are not to be so flippantly dismissed. Go in peace, but please, do not use your powers in the presence of our people.”
Raivyn nodded. “I will not, unless duty demands it.”
“We accept your word, Raivyn of the Griffon Republic.”
***
Peering in through the window of Cevla's room, Darvik saw the crazed psychic collapsed on the ground. She was still enough for a moment that he wondered if she was dead. Then her eye flickered open, once again deep blue, though they had a glazed look to them, as well. Darvik moved to open the door.
"Are you nuts!?" demanded Rentra.
Darvik scowled at him and removed the locking device. It came away from the door, which screeched as the twisted metal threatened to fall off the hinges.
Cevla looked up at her comrades as they stood outside her door.
"It got me," she muttered, pulling her knees into her chest and rocking gently. "It got me."
***
Standing anxiously beside Yrinla as she navigated the data displayed on the star tree’s membranous screen, Crush watched the display with intense interest. A small ‘ding’ let them know the calculations were complete, and a single result popped up.
“After all this time,” said Yrinla, looking at the star that was indicated on the screen. “We’ve found it. This is the only star system that matches the intersection of the theoretical path of both my ancestors and the asteroid that brought core crystals to Aerat.”
“Why would the two be related, though?” asked Crush.
Yrinla shrugged. “It was your vision that suggested the idea. I am at a loss.”
Crush nodded. “How long would it take to travel to this system?”
“If it were this lone star tree pushed to its limits, perhaps a few weeks?” answered Yrinla. “I will begin the calculations.”
“Thank you, priestess,” said Crush. “I need to go talk to my crew.”
***
Raivyn and Vanbrook walked out of the tower and into an absolute circus of diplomats, officers, and IGC enforcement personnel. General Grubula and Admiral Jasken stood in the center, trying to calm everyone down.
"It's not your concern if the Shairet are choosing to strengthen ties with the Republic rather than you lot of opportunists!" shouted Grubula.
Well, at least Jasken was trying to calm them down.
Zomm-Dhar, the top IGC enforcement officer on Gateway, pushed his way through the crowd to where Grabula and Jasken stood.
“The General’s lack of tact aside,” said Zomm-Dhar, shooting Grubula a sideways glance, “the fact remains that the Shairet are free to associate with whomever they choose. Though the argument may sound elementary, the Republic was here first. It takes time for a new species to acclimate to the galactic community, and they have been gracious hosts as we all look excitedly to the opportunities afforded by the Cornucopia Cluster.”
The crowd dispersed, but there were a number of dirty looks aimed at Jasken, and more at Grubula.
“What was all that?” asked Raivyn, approaching Jasken.
Jasken smoothed his mustache. “You were the first to be invited to see the village. No one else has gotten any further than the inside of the tower. The Shairet have been keeping everyone at arm’s length.”
“Huh,” said Vanbrook. “Does everyone else know we were only invited so we could be berated by the council?”
“Probably,” said Jasken. “There’s no shortage of espionage going on at this little get together. So did everything go alright?”
Raivyn shrugged. “There’s a belief that psychics have a tendency to go insane. Could be there’s something to it, but they take a dim view of psychics in general. From the sounds of it, some tribes are worse than others. Have we made contact with any other tribes?”
“No,” interjected Grubula. “The locals generally don’t want to engage and they’re not a priority. We can’t claim this planet, so we’ve focused our efforts on exploration elsewhere, like Thioa.”
"Our forces are still gathering in Kirakna," said Jasken. "Once we stabilize the situation on Gateway and have some military cover, I'll be recommending we ramp up our diplomatic efforts here."
"I think that would be wise, Admiral," said Raivyn. "Despite their misgivings, they seemed open to reconsidering the nature of psychics and they are gifted artisans. They could become valuable allies and good friends, even if another path to the Cluster is discovered."
No sooner had Raivyn finished the thought than a red beam fell from the sky and smashed into the ground just outside the encampment, shaking the ground and leaving a massive, smoldering crater behind. Everyone immediately scattered to their ships or bases, and Vanbrook, Raivyn, and Jasken sprinted towards the Wingspan.
“That was a great eye beam!” exclaimed Grubula in disbelief as he ran for his base of operations.
“But it… missed?” said Vanbrook, surveying the crowded airfield for casualties but finding none.
“No,” said Jasken grimly as he ran towards the ship. “That was a warning shot.”