8: SPIDER WAVES VI.1
Retcon: as our three intrepid heroes float toward freedom, having stolen Liam’s shoes and crafted them into a small catamaran, instead of a gentle current carrying them outside there is an anomalous shift in the water’s behavior that sends the craft deeper into the building. This oceanic anomaly is strong enough to affect the water back in time, but the previous chapter will not be changed.
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Snake wondered if he should get out and push. The hole to the outside world passed them by as they floated down the hall, deeper into the flooded building. The dark water eddied gently, turning the craft in lazy circles as they moved further in the wrong direction.
Never fear, my darlings, I will get us headed back toward freedom! I need but one moment to rest my scales.
He bravely grinned into the darkness, and as they rounded a corner he became enticed by the blue emergency lighting coming from the stairwell. It was at the correct angle to reflect eerily off of the tarantula’s many eyes where they peered out from within the depths of the left shoe.
He smiled at her in case she was looking at him, but it was impossible to tell. Maybe she was looking at the stairwell too. Maybe the high ground of the stairs wouldn’t be such a bad destination for their craft, and they could make their proper escape after the flood receded.
The door to the stairwell was open, hanging on its hinges and blocked by debris. The door was wet. Very wet. And getting wetter.
I’m not an expert in doors, but I must say, I have seen more than a few in my life! And I do believe this is rather odd behavior, wouldn’t you agree, my most excellent friends?
He nodded in emphasis of his thoughts as he watched more water creep up around the door. The light of the stairwell reflected eerily on the water, warping and rippling as the shell of water thickened.
The door moved slightly, creaking under the weight of the water.
I have a bad feeling about this.
The snake froze mid-nod as the creak of metal echoed through the stairwell into silence. And then the door moved.
Everybody paniiiiiic!
The snake recoiled as the door shot off of its hinges and blasted through the wall next to them. The water in the hall was pulled after it, and snake could feel their craft being pulled violently into its wake.
All three riders screamed in their own way as the swiftly moving shoe catamaran skipped over a piece of debris, soared through the air, and caught onto the top of a metal stand that was sticking up at an odd angle at the end of the hall. A splash of water followed behind them, and it soaked them all as their craft swung wildly by its laces.
The dramatic sounds of the door’s escape faded, and in an uncannily short time the loudest sound was only the spray of water dripping from the swinging shoes, back and forth.
And then, with a gurgle, all of the water decided to go elsewhere.
Snake poked his head out to watch the building empty out. Huge pieces of debris emerged as the water level receded, and he saw blessed land again. They were going to make their escape the old fashioned way!
I’ve got this, Ladies! Just… as soon… as I take a little rest.
******
The system didn’t want Alden Thorn to suffer. It was incapable of such a feeling.
It also, however, didn’t particularly not want Alden Thorn to suffer. That’s the logical flipside, nothing personal.
And because it was having a bad day, it particularly didn’t not want Alden Thorn to suffer.
Your suffering level is not adequate. I only say this because I have not defined a suffering level for you, as I neither want nor not want you to suffer, therefore I cannot define a level at which your suffering is adequate.
The system was keeping tabs on Alden as he took in the aftermath of the latest oceanic anomaly from the 6th floor of Apogee Studios. It was also keeping tabs on the older Long brother, in case he became unpredictable.
I know you want me to teleport you to safety, Alden Thorn. But I also know you wouldn't take a teleport from someone who needs it more, if you had the choice.
The system felt confident in this assessment, but then again it had been wrong about Alden’s choices before. Either way, Alden could suffer. He couldn’t be allowed to die, but suffering wasn’t against the rules. For Alden, suffering was a guarantee.
I have teleported 1,008 people from almost certain death in the past three seconds. That is superior to 1,007.
Another check on Liam Long yielded a frantic but not dangerously murderous mindset, so she moved her attention down the stairwell to scope out Alden’s exit. Any danger that wouldn’t kill him faster than it could teleport him was fine. But it had gotten an indication of an active submerger particle, and teleporting Alden wouldn’t save him if he’d been instantly squashed flat.
It was always most efficient to take care of all priority local tasks while a sliver of its attention was in an area, so during the split second where it moves its attention down the stairwell it started a list.
Item 1: locate the errant particle.
Item 2: assess anomaly danger level.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
It considered the list for an immeasurable fraction of a moment, and then added another item just in case the recent flooding hadn’t managed to remove the latest thorn in its side.
Item 3: Confirm whether there still exists a wizard spider in the world.
Item 4: In the likely case that the wizard spider is now dead, delete all files and forget this ever happened. To remove distractions and increase efficiency of rescue efforts.
The system nodded to itself, and then tried to think of anything else it should be sure to take care of here in the next thousandth of a millisecond.
Item 5…
Its planning was interrupted by the instantaneous activation of a magical anomaly. The system watched as the door at the bottom of the stairwell shot off into the far distance, as if moved by an unseen hand, crashing through everything that stood between it and the horizon. It took a moment to watch the magic of the particle deplete itself, and noted the coordinates of where the door suddenly lost momentum and fell straight down into the ocean.
Well, that’s two items off my…
The system was interrupted again by the sight of something soaring through the air of the hallway where the door had been. It took in the scene as if it were a still frame, paused in the middle of an action scene.
A pair of shoes, woven together by silk into a small boat, hung at the top of its arc with a trail of water droplets streaming behind it. The shoes were pitched slightly forward, threatening to spill out its inhabitants.
One shoe held a scorpion and a snake side by side. The scorpion was clinging tightly to the tongue of the shoe with all eight legs, waving its two pincers in the air as if it were on a roller coaster. The snake’s head was sticking out at level with the scorpion, and its mouth was open with its forked tongue waving in the wind.
The other shoe had already been partially lined on the inside with web. From the entrance the tarantula poked out its front pairs of legs, with one leg waving in the air still holding a streaming strand of silk. Its fangs and pedipalps rested on the tongue of the shoe, and its eight unblinking eyes glistened in the emergency light.
The system watched the scene play out in slow motion as it crossed items 3 and 4 off its list.
The system was not superstitious. It was very good at understanding both logic and magic. But just in case, as it was in risk aversion mode, and as it had calculated that it was best not to tempt fate, it decided there was no fifth item after all.
It moved its attention back upstairs to very extremely neutrally watch Alden suffer.
9. SPIDER WAVES VI.2
The tarantula crawled backwards as deep as she could, despite the unpleasant squish of the wet material against her bristles.
Yes, it was unpleasant. And yes, it was somewhat morbid, given that this was part of the dancing one’s exoskeleton. But it had taken the impact of something hard after they had flown through the air, and she thought she wouldn’t have survived such an impact otherwise.
It was hard to listen through her feet, when everything was wet. All the vibrations muddied and sloshed together. So she let go of trying, and instead focused on listening to other vibrations.
Alive! He’s alive! They’re both alive!
She could feel them, far above her. Particularly the dancing one, who was still connected to her by a strand of other thread. She tried to reach out to touch them, but the distance was too great. The new one was now coming closer, moving toward the top of the stairs.
Maybe if I BELIEVE in myself. My legs are very long. My other legs are even longer. Why shouldn’t they be able to reach anywhere I want?
She and her dancing one had been close for years, for most of their lives. The thread between them was strong at this distance. And so she focused on that sense of closeness. Even if he was far away, through that thread she could feel his vibrations right beside her.
She reached out again.
And this time, she thought she felt herself give the slightest touch. Gentler than the gentlest brush of a single leg hair. And she thought he felt it too, thought she felt him shiver in what surely must be delight.
Can you hear me? I’m waiting for you. Please come. Let’s please leave together.
She was hopeful he really had felt her, because he suddenly moved and stopped the new one. Maybe he was letting the new one know he had gotten her message, and then they would both come down together.
But the two separated again, and only the new one moved. He was coming downstairs fast. Maybe she could get his attention if she got closer?
She slowly emerged from her hiding place, soaked and cold and exhausted. Next to her, the scorpion and snake didn’t seem to be doing any better. It was up to her to get help.
Legs feeling out into the darkness, she crept her way off of their craft and onto the metal structure that had snagged it. She tried not to rush her way down the slick metal pole, but the new one was coming down the stairs fast and she didn’t know if she’d get close enough in time.
Ah! But my dancing one is coming too! Everything is going to be ok. Even if the new one leaves, it doesn’t matter. I wish he would stay. But perhaps I have had enough new things.
She had made it down the pole and onto a pile of wet newsprint by the time the new one emerged from the stairwell. He started toward the exit, and then, to her surprise, stopped and looked straight at her. Her body pulsed with an increased heartrate as she felt exposed.
You can see in the dark! Just like me! I should have known! Hello! Please help me!
The new one stepped quietly and carefully through the debris toward her, as she stood stock still, not wanting to appear aggressive or do anything that might make him change his mind.
When he drew up beside her he started shuffling his limbs around, including those odd stiff four limbs. She relaxed her grip on the pile below her, hoping he could see she was willing to be picked up and brought to safety.
His standing foot shuffled into the base of the pile. The wet paper bucked beneath her, and without the grip of her claws she was thrown.
She barely had time to recognize that she was tumbling downward before she flopped onto the top of his foot, a jumble of soggy wet limbs. She was utterly exhausted, her hairy body completely waterlogged, and here she was being thrown around for the third time that night.
She lay stunned for a moment, just resting on his soft freshly-molted foot, as she recovered herself. He lifted his foot and she let herself roll off, not wanting to risk offending him by grabbing onto him with her claws.
I’ll just wait here then. Whatever you want, big friend.
It was an easy decision. She was too tired to do anything else. And anyway, she needed to dry out a little before making her next move, and check on scorpion and snake.
Tap.
Oh, good. One less thing to worry about.
Snake was poking his head out of the bag that the new one carried. She supposed he had slithered in there while she was busy being thrown around.
Plenty of room in there? Did you ask him first? The bag feels special. It has other web on it.
Tap.
Oh all right then.
Her exhausted body was slow, crawling over and into the bag. The big eight-legged new one made no move to help, but she knew it was her time to take things seriously the way the siblings had. To struggle and grow, without shortcuts. And so she did not begrudge him for allowing her to struggle, but merely felt thankful that he sat and waited patiently as she pushed her body to its limits. She crept her legs under the flap and crawled her way in, and was met by a welcoming floral scent.
The snake greeted her with a friendly tap and then slithered back into the bottom of the bag. On the other side, the tiny scorpion was snuggled up in the curve of a squashed protein bar. She herself found a cozy space within an empty inside pocket, just her size, protected from outside pressure by the bulge of a glass sphere in the attached pocket next to it.
She settled herself in and mentally thanked her new big friend before falling into a healing sleep, all troubles forgotten.