Novels2Search

Redweed 1.1

Sixdottir bustled them along, not giving a chance to pause to ask questions. Downshifting five times before they came to a stop in what Omega imagined must be a marketplace.

There were buildings going in every direction, radiating out in alleys, crevices, walls and tunnels from the loop in all directions.

The variety of people here were still mostly the same as before, although there were hardly any of the orbs like their guide.

Making up the difference were one or two more of the burnt logs in various outfits and a smattering of other things that Omega was not quite sure about.

Along the way there was a bit of a hold up as several ‘people’ seemed to be playing some kind of game.

They were grabbing at what looked like a glass cylinder as tall as Omega herself filled with a sloshing green fluid and what was probably air.

Each time one of them managed to get a hold of it for a moment they would move back and seem to gesticulate but then another would rush in and grab it back.

Omega found the whole thing a bit odd and couldn't place the rules of the whole thing. It seemed like the goal was to keep the green fluid in the cylinder?

But despite how quickly the people could move to grab it as soon as they did none of them seemed intent to run off with it or keep anyone else from taking it.

She wondered if that was a rule, everyone else gave the game a wide berth and it was holding up traffic but eventually they got past.

Aleph brought up the question as they moved along another alleyway.

“What was all of that about?”

Sixdottir sighed.

“I’m sorry you saw that, it’s never pleasant to see swappers unable to find a way to meet each others needs. I thought this was a nicer neighborhood then that”

Omega blinked.

“Swappers? Wait were they stealing that green goo stuff?”

Sixdottir rolled to stare at them.

“No... of course not, they were not HOARDING it from each other... otherwise we would have had to call for the police”

Omega tilted her head.

“You have police?”

Sixdottir huffed and made another turn down an alley, then a turn up another crevice.

“The word is a best fit, I personally thought it would map better to ‘civilry’ but the clerks in tranlation and exchange that would sound awkward said you already use the other one... It does not speak well of your history that you consider adherence to ‘policy enforcers’ to be the same as those which ensure survival and well being of citizens... but we cannot change our roots... At least you SEEM to have come to an intelligent solution if the texts provided are accurate”

One of those burgundy eyes fixed on Omega as if somehow expecting proof that they were not.

“Either way no nothing ‘illegal’ or ‘malicious’ going on there... just disagreement of however to best distribute whatever that was. We are not infallible. We all do what we can”

Omega hummed.

“So anyway, since we seem to have a moment, there is something that is bugging me about the networks here, it’s subtle and I was wondering if you could clarif-OW”

Quarti fixed Omega with the fakest wide white toothed grin and hummed in resonance to her.

“Oiy Blue-baby! Let the nice kiddle-cage work with ya like the busibodder nursemaid intended ya? I tell ya more bout it when we git back ta the featherduster it’s sweet and wholesome like wise kay?”

Omega blinked at her friend.

“You know why the networks seem funny?”

Quarti just grinned bright and fake as can be.

“I tell ya alls about it latesome! We git the fud now keh?!”

Aleph looked at the two of them.

“What’s up with you Quarti? It’s an alien network we should know more about it just so we don’t accidentally break a law or something right?”

Sixdottir huffed.

“I ensured there were safeties on the translation device, none of you should be able to use it to access anything you are not supposed too. Now if you are done insulting my competence AGAIN we are here!”

For all the journey that had lead them there had been three dimensional and maze like the shop seemed surprisingly similar to something from home.

Sure the floor and ceiling seemed to be equally used to store displays and objects, and there was a kind of symmetry of reasoning for up and down.

But the fact there WAS an up and down was refreshing.

If you ignored those strange things it almost seemed like a cozy curio shop or something. There was also a oily reflective shimmer across the entire ‘storefront’ that vaguely rippled.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Sixdottir bobbed and made flourishing gestures.

“Let's get in so I can finally be done with your madness and have a replacement sent here to weather your disasters without any more damage to my reputation and standing!”

Quarti laughed and shoved the bubble bot into the storefront, the film seeming to ripple and spasm all around them as one interface met another. But they seemed to resolve it as they tumbled into the hazey clouds of the space beyond.

Droplets of moisture condensing on the outer surface of their conveyance obscuring the rest of the space for a moment before a billow of air beyond dried it away.

Sixdottir was right behind them and a faint wet schlup of sound announced her arrival in the space. Muted by the membranes separated but still present.

Rumbles and gurgles hummed and buzzed.

Aleph caught on with a whoop.

“There is an ATMOSPHERE out there! SOUND! What is it? The composition?”

A voice boomed, distinct and different from Sixdottir. It had been a while since Omega heard anyone with that trait. The academy and some of the other countries still cultivated the trait but it was rare back home.

Aleph turned left and right to try and place just what the speaker was.

Who ultimately had a rich deep voice that for whatever reason the translator had decided to place as elderly and masculine.

“It’s a fluid of unreactive and a diagnostic swarm mixed with my luncheon mites... It helps me work for my less fragile clients dear... Well the diagnostic swarm does, my luncheon mites just get everywhere and you are a bit early”

The clouds of orange mist billowed away as billowing sheets of cloth floated into view.

Omega and Aleph looke around intently to try and spot their host. But so far to no avail.

“Sixdottir, good to see you again, I got the dossier. What an interesting challenge these three will be, but really? Am I expected to work through... Is that an Abulum birth packaging membrane wrapped around a unitary walker rig?! Whose driveling crinkle face had simultaneously the audacity and the means to manhandle this absurdity together?!”

Sixdottir rolled a little towards the curtains as the mist seemed to slowly filter away, clearing up the interior space.

It was crowded with ‘things’.

Omega was uncertain which if any were the Gastronomicist. So she reached to the little cylinder and embraced the resonance network.

And the world lit up with information just as the voice spoke again.

“Nevermind, I suppose I will have to find a way. You are truly some of the more delicate guests I’ve had to work with that have the majority of an internal digestive system”

It was the sheets of cloth.

[https://i.imgur.com/yT1SCnX.png]

The Gastronomicist was made up of the rippling folds and layers of cloth.

How did that even work?

As she thought it the whole thing twisted like a towel being wrung out, but twisting all on its own action. Omega squinted at it and could just barely catch little clumping bunches of tension tugging on one another in the gossamery sheets.

An expanse of one side of the outer sheets now faced them, and on it were little dimpled pits, one of which came close to peer right at Omega’s face.

A beady black eye with hints of structure within.

That was the size of her fist.

“Well it can’t really be helped what we are... I believe we shall have to do individual samples of each of you for cell cultures and chemical analysis. Then while those are growing we can move on to indirect sympathetic imaging to follow your anatomical metabolic flows.”

Aleph looked out at the wall of ‘stuff’ rippling, as the voice spoke patterns washed over and across the flesh in waves of color and shimmer.

It was beautiful and entrancing and it even had a kind of cadence in mirror to the smooth voice of the translator.

Sixdottir’s voice seemed almost shrill by comparison.

“Well it sounds like you have things on hand, there was a bit of a misunderstanding on the ideal fit for their escort here in Redweed so I’ve sent for a replacement. You have everything you need to work with them Gastronomist?”

The voice hummed an affirmative which was a bubbly speckled checker zig-zag pattern almost like seafoam over the skin.

Finally Omega found her voice.

“We have to go through all of this just to get a bite to eat?”

To her surprise the Gastronomist laughed delightedly at that, the laughter was full of curly cues and big round friendly shapes along his skin.

The voice was booming and friendly.

“Oh yes, we wouldn't want to kill you after all”