Chapter 21 – Insects & Intrigue
Mk23 -IRJ Droplet – Class 7 – Carpe Victoria (Wrecked)
Sector - Unknown
Planet - Unknown
15rth October 2341 (BSST)
“It has now been another two months, two months since I had made the charcoal. So, slightly more than two months since the last log in fact.”
“It is currently midday on the fifteenth of October 2341 BSST. I am sitting by the pool in the stream, legs up on the stones that surround it. The chair that is made of sticks and woven bark mats supports my weight enough that I don’t feel that it will break underneath me. Though I still feel slightly precarious.”
“The heat is as oppressive as ever, though I seem to have gotten used to it. It still continues to cool down, but as normal it is well in excess of earth temperatures. At first, I had thought it was a trick of the mind, but now I’m sure it’s the case. It is certainly colder than it was, however the almost unbearable muggy heat of the summer has given way to a more temperate climate and more life seems to be emerging as a result, perhaps like a sort of reverse hibernation.”
“First came the sounds. From the barren silence I’m used to, emerged the life so foreign to me. There’s the flap flap of birds taking flight upon being startled, the humming buzz buzz of the insects that swarm like clouds on the horizon, ominous and looming they swirl around seemingly following me, a cloud above my head like the sword of Damocles. The various squawks, shrieks, howls, chirps, clicks, clacks and cries of the animals that sound out, reverberating and thrumming around me, signal the life of the planet, more prevalent than ever. Like that first encounter, I spot more of the beetles, crawling around on the floor in some unknowable task, pursuing it with a focus unrivalled.”
“Of the life emerging, it was the insects that were first to appear. Loud buzzing sounds - cicadas perhaps - spring up around me, only louder and more angry, the furious buzzing rings in my ears from dawn till dusk, relenting only in the bliss of sleep. Though they sound like they live in my head I had - for the longest time - spotted no sign of them. But then, like a curtain descending, they swarmed and passed me by. Perhaps they are more like locusts instead, as the huge swarm of the creatures passed by about a month ago stripping the land in a similar fashion to those horrid pests. Like the sound of thunder, they rolled passed me on their way. Perhaps a variety of drummer wasps that beat their wings to a metronomic rhythm. The loud roar was enough to wake me in the dead of night with a racing heart.”
I snort, thinking back to the terror that seized my heart in that moment, its bony cold fingers digging into me. Clammy and scared, I had jumped and ran to the suit to ready myself to fight them. Like a shock wave they hit me before passing by in a whirling cloud of insects. Urgh.
“When they had passed by, it was a stripped land that was left in its place. The field of grasses, flowers and lush greenery was but a semi-dead swathe of land, coloured in shades of yellow and brown, the green being stripped away. The life, so formerly abundant was gone and what remained was but an echo of its former glory, its former beauty. Who knows, perhaps it is the natural cycle of this planet. God, I hope so. If I have to live here it would be nice if its natural beauty remained.”
“Though the plains had been stripped, the trees and vegetation of the woodlands still remained standing strong. I’m sure that if they could, the locusts would have destroyed it too. The bark seems to be too tough for them though. I’m thankful for that. It was however, rather unfortunate that they passed by, eating me out of house and home, literally. The tepee and sleeping mat were completely destroyed, leaving the dead timber frame standing and not much else. The dead plant material seemed to be an easy target for the pests. Thankfully the proper house had been built already, using a mottle and daub wall filler around basket-woven walls and a tiled roof. Strong, stable and secure. The locusts had seemingly left my house alone, which was nice.”
“After the locusts had gone, the rest of the life began to emerge. The small beetles. Those with dark black carapaces to those with an iridescent dark blue. Some of even brighter colours; reds and yellows also appeared, facing the world head on. Though none were recognisable from my knowledge of earthen creatures, it was pleasant to see, nor did they look alien to me. Well, not more alien than insects naturally are.”
“This morning, in fact, I was awoken by the sweet sound of birdsong, tweeting, chirping melodies that sooth me and comfort me. Not just a morning song, the birds seemed to sing all through the days. In the waters, the slower sections at least more recognisable amphibians and water creatures emerged. Newts, frogs, pond skaters, larvae and more besides seemed to start spreading out across the small stream.”
“On a recent forage to the coral forest in the shallow waterways, I could see lots of small fry, darting in and out of the cover. Small quick motions kept catching my eye. A darting shadow here, a silvery flash there. No luck catching anything yet though. The traps in the pool have continued to produce relatively well, I’ve had to move them up and down the stream and its tributaries several times to keep production up. With no signs of slowing, the stream seems to be able to produce enough food for me, well enough when couples with the vegetation and tubers I’ve been finding.”
“Efforts to grow the tubers have proved ineffective. Though not wasteful, the snippings and shoots have yet to take hold in the earth. I shall make the effort to retrieve some of the soil in the coral forest for future efforts. Perhaps it is the soil that is not rich enough. In more tuber news, the detox process appears to be necessary. When trying something new I got severe stomach cramps persisting – though fading – over the course of a few days. Luckily it wasn’t too bad.”
“Along with the tubers, the vegetation also seems to be emerging. Flowers are starting to bloom and the aromatic smells are starting to pervade the camp, lifting and lightening my mood.”
“Enigma has made more progress as well, the teenage moody phase is beginning to go, and a more pleasant, adult personality is blooming in its place. Complex thought is no longer difficult for him, yet hypotheticals, structured debate style arguments and inferred/implied self-imposed boundaries are out of reach for now.”
“Furthermore, Enigma has both sociopathic and psychopathic tendencies, if you can call it that for an AI. Though I have hope he will develop these qualities in the future, at his current stage I don’t think it anomalous or even an unlikely outcome for developing AI.”
“In terms of technological developments, more and more tools have been made. Out of stone mind you, but I feel good about my progress. Basic carpentry is now within reach. The chair, as I mentioned earlier was a nice touch. Carpets of woven plants and bark are now feasible, if time consuming. I have been relaxing more and more as life here becomes stable. In the first month or two I was working from dawn till dusk, say a 13 to 15-hour day. Now I’m taking breaks for lunch and dinner of a few hours and working for maybe 10 hours a day. And some of those are gentle work. In terms of future progress, I’ll let Enigma speak. You haven’t heard him yet, well, perhaps in passing. Or maybe if this suit is constantly recording me. You’d think I’d know all about it, but you never know.”
I hand over to Enigma tentatively. He’s made leaps and bounds in the last few months but I’m still hesitant to let him be exposed to the joint councils. Well potentially. I’ve no idea if this will ever be discovered and within a timeframe that matters. Who knows it could be a few millennia until the suit and its records are discovered.
“Right, Enigma here.” He reports in a straight forward blunt way. Mostly monotone and no pausing where it may naturally occur; difficult words for example.
“Since the last log a main focus has been the development of metal tools. Specifically: copper, bronze, iron and steel. Whilst Ronja and I would like to skip copper and bronze I think it unlikely with a probability of success of around 0.975%. The quantity of iron bacteria required to make even a simple tool is unfeasibly high and natural deposits of ore such as haematite, magnetite, limonite, siderite…”
“They get the picture Enigma!” I say, slightly exasperated. “Keep it concise, please!”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“And ankerite” he says continuing. Still some teenage rebellion left I guess. “Will require mining to excavate and smelting followed by purification to use. The natural draft furnace when heated by charcoal is sitting at roughly the minimum temperature to be able to process iron. But I wouldn’t be confident of a successful batch. I have been unable to estimate a success probability because of a lack of data on Ronja’s skill level. Considering she has never tried to process iron I would not estimate it to be very high. Any more complicated tasks will require the production of metal first. Especially repair tasks or machine creation.”
“Over the next few months” I continue, taking over from Enigma, “I will let him update you on technology and, hopefully, it will catalogue his progress in addition to my regular report.”
“During this time, I hope to begin metal work and to start ramping up the food production a little. Enough that a bad day won’t cripple me. At the moment, I have to go foraging and hunting every day. Be that the traps or with the bow, a common prey is a squirrel-like mammal. Though instead of the trees, it prefers the underbrush. The deer-like creature was tough to get through. It made decent addition to soups with water and the veg, tasting quite strong and gamey, similar to regular deer though it had a strange taste to it that I can’t accurately describe. If I had to, I guess I’d describe it as a cross between duck, rabbit and lamb with a coppery richness despite being very very dry. Peculiar indeed.”
“I’ve always heard that surviving in the wild really rejuvenates the taste buds, and that when people come back to civilisation they have to refrain from eating certain things as the taste is just too strong. I can believe it now, though I miss flavours like paprika, onion, peppers and chillies I imagine it would blow my head off right about now, figuratively of course.”
“I’m thankful now as the once bland, unappetising broths are now tasty and filling. No matter how much I might miss the food from home, I’ve gotten used to this and it will certainly do. I’ve made a pact with myself to discover one new ingredient every week. I may not be able to use it, and it might make me a little ill, but I’ve added a few new ones over the last few months. It makes cooking much more rewarding. In fact, some flavours are quite extraordinary, I imagine they may be very popular in the central planets. If I can get off this planet with a large quantity I may be able to make a pretty sum of cash selling it.”
“I suppose its time to talk about the stuff I’ve been avoiding. I don’t know, maybe it’s been obvious I’ve been avoiding this. It’s just, it feels good to talk to someone, even though they don’t respond. A coping mechanism perhaps. Just sitting here by the water and relaxing is good for me, I watch the little…bees? They fly around the plants, whilst the trickle of water and the little splashing sounds and birdsong soothe the churning waters of my mind to a calm flat sea, while that violent storm above becomes blue sky.”
“This planet seems to get stranger by the day. First, there was how I got here; a gravitational anomaly induced by the Odrath’s new weapon it seems. Then there were the humanoids that stalk this place, and then the signal that sent me fleeing in a frightened panic. And lastly there was the note from Nickolas Harkness telling me about other sentients who inhabit this place. I have yet to see them, though perhaps I have stumbled across their traces. The image of the little girl, Emily, still haunts my dreams. Her face, happy and smiling before that horrific scene folds in on me.” I shake just thinking of it now. I’m a hardened soldier for God’s sake, yet I doubt I’ll ever be able to forget. I thought I was desensitised, but in fact it just means I need a more horrific scene to disturb me.
I continue on, “But that was just the start. I could accept all the strangeness, from the humanoids to the way I arrived. But this, really? It seems so strange.”
“This planet, I thought it was deserted, I didn’t think for an instant that Nickolas was right, that there were others here. But perhaps he may actually be speaking sense!”
“A staircase! A fucking staircase! In the middle of the damn woods, a staircase!”
“What the actual fuck?” I wonder to myself, just the same as when I stumbled across it.
“The staircase, well assuming I’ve not just lost my mind, was sitting off any of the paths forged by animals or humanoids alike though just the faintest hint of a route to it exists. A few hundred metres into the thickest sections of trees the dense foliage gives way to a small clearing. Going up the hill is a staircase. Not like a weather-beaten wooden staircase used to help climb up the rocks and mud, but rather like it was just chopped from someone’s house. Soft MDF wood stairs with a rich red carpet extending down the middle, leaving a few inches of the bare wood exposed on either side. The wood appeared to be untreated and whilst not new, the weathering and erosion from being outside was unexpectedly absent. Well maybe not quite unexpectedly as I sure as hell didn’t expect to find a staircase out in the wilds in the first place.”
“A dark wood, like walnut or mahogany makes up the banister. It runs up the stairs on only one side, even more like it was just cut from a house and planted here. The banister is ornate with nice oiled handrails ending in exquisitely carved newel posts with the handrail thinning and winding down the newel posts at the top and bottom. Supported in 3 places along the length of the banister the intervening sections were filled with an undulating pattern of wooden curves, strips and blocks to reveal an almost unending flowing line.”
“On the other side of the stairs from the banister small chips of…paint? Yes, paint chips I think were on the wooden slats. Perhaps it truly was ripped from a house.”
“The staircase seemed to rise up a ditch on one side whilst the other was only the natural environment, what one would generally expect in the forests.”
I take a break from speaking and go get some water to drink, my throat is sore from talking for so long. Especially since I haven’t really been using it so much recently. I think back to the scene, picturing it to try and compose my thoughts.
The staircase extends down into the dirt melding in perfectly. Well perfectly if the last step hadn’t been ripped off. A large stone lies a few feet away, one side of the exposed surfaces is muddy whilst the other is not. Glancing round I can see a small hollow where the rock was originally from. At the bottom, a few feet from the wreckage of the bottom step is a small pile of broken sticks and planks with another sheet of paper lying discarded nearby. Once I’m composed I update the log.
“At the bottom of the steps was a small pile of sticks, leaves and logs. It seems as if the pile were stamped on quite aggressively. By the side of what I assume to be the remnants of a fire, a fire someone failed to start, is another note.”
“I read this word for word:
My love
Oh Lord, forgive me. That my soul shall burn in hell is all that I deserve for what I have done. I let it in! I let it get her! Oh Lord, forgive me!
The monsters come, oh come they do. You cannot fight, you cannot hide. Oh, her servants don’t need to see you to destroy. By scent, by will, by power, they come to claim for her. To claim eternal. Oh God they come!
Oh Emily, forgive me. I have failed you my dear. To fail in such a fashion, I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. My regret will know no bounds. A peaceful rest you will not have. And it’s all because of me. Oh Emily, forgive me!
I let it in! And now death, death death death. It is all that awaits me, forevermore. The cold dead fingers rising up, the stench of myrrh seeping in my soul, the crushing grasp at my nape. I feel it coming! Coming to drag me back from whence she came. To join her in endless torment, in the bowels of Hell. Lady Death is coming for my soul just as she came for Emily.
Oh Julie, forgive me. What have I done? In my despair, I let it get to me! I let it in! In, in, in. It got to us. It got her! Oh Julie, forgive me!
In what chariot she comes I do not know, but I know for sure she comes. Like the beat of the drum her carriage rolls ever closer; relentless, unstoppable and immovable. You can’t outrun it. You can’t delay it. Once she sets her sights on you it is futile to resist. Though I’ll run and run when she catches me I’ll turn to embrace her clammy chill with open arms. I’ll gift her my soul in a nice little package and be dragged to whence she came.
She claimed my girl, took her soul back to hell. Oh Julie, I tried! I tried to run! But it is useless. To run from Lady Death is just death itself.
She came in the dead of night, the quieting fire the only sign of her dreaded approach. So, I stole Emily away, a tiny thing in the crook of my arms. Her shivering, shaking body petrified in her presence. As still as the grave.
The leaves that shivered from my passage grow still, naked and frightened, as the cleaned spines of a fish are. She swoops along the trail, her fluttering gown spreading out its paling essence among the plants and bugs alike.
But alas, it was too late, Lady Death shall not be thwarted. Her work now done she fades away.
For in moments when sing the violins
And the burning flame lights up our sins
She drives the nightmares far apart
And cools the blood in our heart.
Then when everything grows still
She came and went and took her fill
In quiet moments of much distort
She came and took all of import
Leaving nary a drop, but many a spill
Her promise made, she will fulfil.
The blood doth seep
To the cloth in deep
Around my arms does it creep
And in my soul, I start to weep.
For within my arms her body lies
But when I look there are no eyes
Upon the ground her head does rest
She dines with death at the lady’s request.
For those of us with hearts that beat
We stagger on our now dead feet
Carrying with us those we love
A memory of those above
And as we kindle that final ember
There is a message you must remember
That in every shadow, under every sun
Death laughs at you mad mortal as you run
She oft perfumes herself in myrrh
A willing victim she does prefer
She’ll drag you down to have some fun
It is not her you can outrun.”