The immediate uproar from the Stone Seekers was impressive. Outraged honks and shark staccato clicks filled the cavernous space, echoing off the walls. It sounded like a bunch of very angry Canada geese.
Morgan stared in shock at Al. His own gaze was fixed straight ahead at the Stone Seekers, and he didn’t look back at her.
“Al…” Why didn’t you tell me? With effort, she swallowed the words back.
Al hadn’t told her, but she hadn’t exactly asked, either. She had been wrapped up in her own problems—worry about Lucas, the stress of travel, and trying to finding a way home. Aside from the very basics, she had asked almost nothing about Al’s people. Even when he mentioned that this planet was a battleground, she had let the subject drop.
I’m sorry, she wanted to say. I’ve been a rotten friend.
But she could barely hear herself think over all the racket.
So, instead of speaking, she stepped to Al and put a hand on his shoulder. He glanced at her, blinked sideways eyelids, and then looked away again. But he didn’t shake her off, and it seemed as if his tensed muscles eased slightly.
Finally, the Stone Seekers with the necklaces gestures for silence. A few honked notes were exchanged among the group before the one with the blue necklace beckoned to Morgan and Al to follow.
Quickly, Morgan put her shoes back on, packed away the waterproof mylar covering, and swung her backpack over her shoulder.
The Stone Seeker with the blue Necklace waited politely, and then led them away from the entrance pool and into the… city? Town? She wasn’t sure, but it seemed to be made of equal parts stone pathways for walkers, and watery pools and canals for swimmers.
The water was of different colors, from angry red, vivid green, and an ominous thick black that smelled strongly of oil. Morgan and Al stuck to the dry paths.
As they walked, more Stone Seekers popped their heads out of the brackish water to stare at the aliens with unblinking eyes. Morgan gave a sarcastic wave, which caused a flurry of clicked comments at one another.
The pathways eventually led to a hallway, which was lit with more glowing rocks pushed into the walls. If there was a design, or a pattern to the lights, Morgan couldn’t figure it out.
Finally, the Stone Seeker with the blue necklace gestured them to step into a round, stone room.
A Knowledge Transfer Device sat in the middle, though it was much larger than the one which had been at the boundary between the ranges. Its squat trapezoid base was easily as big as a minivan, and the cloudy gray globe atop was equally as large.
“That’s weird. Why is theirs so huge?” Morgan whispered.
Al glanced at her as if she had asked a silly question. “Because it has the knowledge of hundreds of species, of course.”
“Um.” She blinked. “That’s usually not how machines work. They don’t get bigger the more stuff you put into them.”
He cocked his head. “Why not?”
Luckily, she was saved from trying to explain about computer hard drives to a raptor. The Stone Seeker with the blue necklace made a short bleating sound. When they glanced over, it gestured to the device. Then it deliberately placed its hands on the cloudy orb.
Oh. It wanted to exchange languages.
Morgan exchanged a look with Al. Last time, it had felt like her brain had been taken out, stirred around, and then poured back in. Not something she looked forward to repeating.
“You can go first,” Al said, generously.
Morgan shook her head. “Roshambo for it?”
“What?”
She smiled, despite herself, and then took a minute to describe rock-paper-scissors. (Though Al understood it better as rock-hide-claw.)
“On the count of three,” she said, tapping her first against the flat of her other hand. “Ro. Sham. Bo.”
Morgan picked scissors. Al, the rock.
With a sigh, Morgan walked to the Knowledge Transfer Device.
The Stone Seeker with the blue necklace stood there, watching their hand game with no comment. She couldn’t detect any emotion in its flat, ugly eyes. This close, she noticed it had thick whiskers growing out from the end of its crocodile snout. It didn’t improve its looks any.
I really hope you don’t get any of my rude thoughts, she thought. Then, before she could back out, she placed her palms flat against the orb.
Just as before, it felt as if lightning zapped through her arms, straight into the middle of her brain.
She felt the Stone Seeker catch her as she collapsed.
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* * *
Morgan came awake lying on a cold, wet stone floor. A headache throbbed behind her eyes, though it wasn’t as intense as it had been when she’d exchanged languages with Al. She’d call it a solid seven out of ten rather than a nine point nine.
Sitting up gingerly, she looked around. Someone had moved her while she’d been unconscious. Now she was alone in a room as big as her bedroom on Earth, with her backpack beside her. There was nothing like furniture or decorations, except for blue stones pulsing in the walls to provide a sickly light. The middle of the room was dominated by a pool of thick black liquid.
“Al?” she called, and got no answer.
Forcing herself to breathe through the pain, she braced a hand on the wall and stood to her feet. A wave of dizziness came and left. The headache dimmed slightly. This was definitely easier than last time—she would probably be able to move in a few minutes.
She was looking at the pool, wondering if it was worth the effort to taste it and see if it was water, when the surface rippled. A Stone Seeker poked his head out.
The movement was so sudden that she didn’t have time to react in surprise before it hauled itself out and stood. It was the one with the blue necklace.
“Ah,” he said. “You have recovered quickly. I am pleased.”
As with Al, he wasn’t magically speaking English. Now, his honks and clicks made perfect sense. She could understand him as easily as if she had grown up speaking the language.
“Where’s Al?” she asked, reaching down to grab her backpack… though the only weapon inside was her puny box cutter and the knife on her multi-tool. It made her feel better to hold onto something from home.
“The young Yellow Crest recovers in his own room.” The whiskers around his snout flared in amusement. “I am called Mud Bubble.”
“Morgan Hennasey.” She had a moment to wonder if aliens had last names. Maybe his was Bubble. “Call me Morgan.”
And why have you separated us?
“Morgan.” Mud Bubble seemed to look her up and down, though his blank eyes didn’t move within his skull. “The Council has asked me to speak to you before the viewing.”
“The… viewing?”
“Yes, through the Knowledge Transfer Device,” Mud Bubble said as if Morgan should know what he was talking about. Hadn’t they already traded languages?
“What do you want to know?” she asked uneasily.
“What else? About your people. We Stone Seekers trade in knowledge.”
Knowledge? Crap. She was only a high school student. “I…” She looked down at her hands. “I’m not sure I can answer all your questions.” More than that, she wasn’t sure if she’d be willing.
Mud Bubble flared his whiskers again. “What is it you seek from us, Morgan?”
“Answers.” She looked up, straightening her shoulders. “I want to know about who brought us here, why, and how we can go home. I want to contact the Makers.”
Mud Bubble let out a wheezing sound which was the Stone Seeker’s equivalent of a chuckle. “The Makers contact us. It does not work in the reverse.”
“When do they contact you, then?”
“During the Great Travel.” He waved one multi-jointed hand toward the ceiling, indicating the sky.
“You mean, when they took you aboard their spaceship?”
“Spaceship,” Mud Bubble repeated as if testing the word. “How quaint of a term. Yes. Our journey here is a public story—that is to say, one which is free as it is common knowledge.”
She ignored that, driving toward the point. “So… you can’t contact them?”
“No one contacts them, Morgan. They are the Makers. They made this world. It is our duty to grow and learn what we can from it.”
That was a big fat no. Actually, it was worse than a no. It was a ‘No, and you should be happy with what you have.” Well, she wasn’t happy.
She had come all this way… and for what?
I can’t give up yet.
“Medicine, then,” she blurted. “I still want to know whatever you have on the Makers, and about medicine, and… and you said I was the first human you’ve seen?” She waited for him to gesture in confirmation—Stone Seekers had necks which were too stiff to move up and down in a nod. They mostly waved their very flexible arms to indicate yes or no. “I want to know if there have been any other… colonies, I guess. Multiple groups of the same species which were put down in other ranges.”
“The last, I will answer for free: Never to my knowledge.” Mud Bubble let out a long sigh. “Which makes the news of the Yellow Crest people so shocking. The council hopes it is an exaggeration. Your friend is young, and perhaps prone to dramatics.”
“Al doesn’t lie,” she said, coldly. “I want to see him now.”
“Very well.” Mud Bubble replied, unperturbed. “We can walk, but it is much faster to swim. What would you prefer?”
She glanced at the gross, brackish pool water. “I’ll walk.”
* * *
Mud Bubble led Morgan down a new series of twisting stone passages. She had to watch her step—the floor could be slimy with algae, dotted with pools, or slick at the spots where the Stone Seekers crawled out of the water and onto land. The walls were covered with glittering stones in spring green, yellow, red and coral pinks. Each was dimmed to about half the brightness of a normal lightbulb, which was a relief because her head still pounded.
Still, she was doing much better than the first time she had exchanged languages with Al. Before, she couldn’t even sit up for hours afterward. Now, the headache was just enough for her to hate life.
Stone Seekers must not have been big on privacy because none of the rooms had doors. Only arching entrances. There were creatures conducting business, eating, or arranging more glowing stones against the wall as if it were an art display. Morgan passed one larger room with an adult lecturing to little ones—students, she assumed, though they passed by too quickly for her to hear what was being said.
Finally, Mud Bubble stopped in front of one doorway. Through the arch, Morgan spotted Al who was sitting up, looking tired and alone.
She hurriedly walked in, dredging up a smile. “There you are. How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine.” Though there was a look in his eyes that said otherwise. He was worrying a piece of dried seaweed in his claws, tying it and untying it over and over.
Mud Bubble waddled up, and Morgan quickly made his introductions. Al bobbed his head in greeting.
“The Council has gathered and are waiting to access the value of your knowledge, whenever you are ready,” Mud Bubble said.
She and Al exchanged a mutual, ‘Are you up for this?’ look.
The value of her knowledge? What knowledge? When she was in fifth grade she had memorized the capitals of every state. She might even be able to recall most of them, if she were really trying. Would that impress a Stone Seeker?
Plus, her head ached and she was tired. She hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep the night before while laying on bare stone and surrounded by ugly, utterly alien wildlife. Between that and her pounding headache, she knew she wasn’t at her best.
On the other hand, she had been gone from the village for well over a week. (Wow. Had it only been a week? It felt like a lifetime since she had met Al…) Lucas may or may not have been in bad shape by now. Colton might have changed his mind and taken Nevaeh back. A thousand disasters may have happened.
They all needed help. She needed to get back home.
Morgan nodded once, and Al returned the gesture, rising to his feet, fluffing and resettling his feathers back into order.
She turned to Mud Bubble, only to find him watching their interaction with fierce curiosity.
“We’re ready,” Morgan said.