“Hundreds of years ago,” Brooks spoke, his words echoing across the Equator and through the Craton. “The great seed fleet, the Children of the Stars, suffered great calamity.”
He smiled lightly. “At least – that is how the stories have gone. But in the way that all of humanity have pressed on through adversity, so did they, so that their descendants are with us still, and humanity as a whole is stronger and more prosperous than at any other time in our history. United, powerful, and in full control of our destinies, we still remember this date to show our connection to times in the past when we were not so fortunate – when the struggle was far grander than those we can imagine today.”
He gestured upwards, towards the vast vista of stars visible through the windows over their heads. “There are no demons of the Dark, however much old spacers might swear by them. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have a good time trying to scare them, does it? And I think that this year is probably our most horrifying yet!”
He gestured expansively, to some applause, towards the front of the parade of costumes that were waiting. “So let us all enjoy the great work of these costumers, and remember our history and think of our future! A wonderful Darkeve to everyone, and may dawn come tomorrow!”
*******
Hundreds of people came marching through, their costumes dazzling in spectacle, concept, and execution.
One man who was apparently transhuman had traded in his legs for a horse-like body, complete with its own head, and dressed in ancient armor. Behind him marched a legion of tiny robots that moved in lockstep and heeded his every command, dressed in matching armor – an entire army.
A Sepht had covered most of her body in a material that bent the light around her, rendering her nearly invisible, and used every one of her limbs to move beautifully-reconstructed fish so that it appeared that a whole school of them were swimming down the lane.
Another person walked on stilts, their legs wrapped in that same invisible cloth, with discrete drones moving edges of its sheer white rags in a billowing way, making it appear to be a floating apparition, complete with soul-curdling cries.
Others were more light-hearted; a robot costume that could transform into a car when they knelt down and even drive around; a handful of children who were giggling and floating fairies, carried by fleets of drones.
People who looked like historical figures to the most minute detail, people who had invented characters or beings of incredibly outlandish styles yet managed to pull them off perfectly.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Apollonia’s favorite was the man with twenty-foot extensions on his arms and legs, with extra limbs that were programmed to react to his movements in pre-determined ways – thus he was able to be a spider so large that it towered over the entire crowd.
One thing Apollonia did not notice was anything she might truly know; sure a few people were dressed as characters from shows she had known (including The Last Throne, to her slight annoyance), but there was nothing . . .
Eldritch.
Surely the rumors about the recent events on the pirate ship had made the rounds. They always seemed to. Yet despite that, no one had tried dressing up as the terrifying Source – or anything that seemed inspired by Leviathans.
Too soon? she wondered. Or were some things just taboo?
“The Captain was supposed to be leading the parade,” Y noted. “Curious that we have not seen him.”
He was in a different costume now, having changed bodies at some point. It was an eclectic collection of clothing; a purple robe over a scruffy greenish-tan shirt, with some kind of silver tags hanging around his neck. Light shorts and a cowboy hat completed the ensemble. She had no idea who he was, but right now she was not inclined to ask.
“He was at the beginning,” she called back, barely audible over the din.
“Yes, but not for long,” Y noted.
That was true; she had seen him step out there, but after only a few tens of meters he stepped discreetly to the side while one of the flashier costumes passed, and disappeared into the crowd.
Making up her mind, Apollonia picked up Angel and ducked through the crowd, moving towards where the Captain had gone. Y began to follow her, but he was a larger figure and had more difficulty weaving between people.
She caught sight of Brooks, but then she saw Zeela Cann making a beeline for him.
Through a gap in the crowd she saw the two exchange words briefly; Cann was clearly very annoyed, and as Apollonia drew closer she heard a few words.
“. . . barely half of the speech we wrote . . .”
Brooks’s back was to her, though, and whatever he said in reply was short, but got a nod from Cann. Brooks moved away, and Apollonia decided not to come any closer. Zeela looked unhappy, but containing it.
So there was probably a good reason, Apollonia thought.
Y stepped up behind her; his shadow looming over hers.
“Nor, I am afraid I must leave for a time,” he said. “Would you mind terribly?”
She glanced over at the doctor, smiling. He sounded so damn sincere, and she wondered what he’d say if she said she did mind.
“No, go ahead! I’ll be here,” she said. “And my little bee.”
Y bowed politely, twice – once to her, then once to Angel, and walked away – not physically leaving but entering into an alcove. She knew he was simply going to activate a body elsewhere on the ship wherever it was he was needed. Probably the medical wing, she guessed.
Glancing back to the parade, she did a double-take as an entire copse of trees appeared to be walking, with a selection of perfect animal facsimiles living in and among them, from ground to branches.
Behind that, a handful of people dressed as starships cruised in a fancy formation, little toy missiles firing out of them only to pop into dazzling fireworks.
The crowd roared approval, and Apollonia turned back towards the parade, holding up Angel so the little dog could get a better view.
She’d find out what was up with Y later; after what she had seen so far, she was eager to see the rest of the parade.