
Summer! Glorious summer! After last year’s non-stop rain, warm sunny days are a welcome relief.
July has been a busy, difficult month. Two bouts of car trouble meant unexpected bills and a missed market. I lost and (so far) have been unable to restore, or even create a new facebook account. We had not one, but two, power outages that wreaked havoc on my computer. Nothing destroyed, but I spent lots of time fixing nonsense and making sure everything was backed up.
Somehow, despite all this chaos, I’ve managed to write the first 6 chapters of SHUNT! Almost 18K, 25% of the way to done. The deadline is my birthday in mid-September, which, if I keep at the pace I’ve been going at, I’ll miss. I’m going to have to kick up productivity if I want to make this goal. At this point, I’ll do what I can, but if I wind up with a holiday release rather than a Hal-con release, it won’t be the end of the world. Whatever happens, I know the book will come out in 2024, which will mean 4 published books this year! Yes, yes, I know it’s July and you’ve only seen one so far, but The Horsemen: Mark of the Cloven #2 drops from Griot Enterprises in August, and Patchworld Nova is in final edits and formatting stage. This means that those two are are nearly ready, just waiting for launch days. The only one that has significant work left is SHUNT, and I’ve got months left to the year.
As far as upcoming markets go, I’ll be at another magical night market at the BernArt Maze tonight! July 26th, from 6-10. It’s a $15 ticket to get in, but well worth it. Over 2 dozen vendors, access to the maze in all it’s night-time glory, food trucks, and music. I think my favorite bit of the maze is this cool metal tree silhouette. I dunno, there’s a lot of cool stuff in the maze. It’s difficult to pick a favorite.

Through August I’ll be keeping with my usual flip flop of the Bridgewater Farmer’s Market on Saturdays, and the Alderny Landing Artisan Market on Sundays. Keep in mind, the Bridgewater Farmer’s Market is open later this year, until 1, so if you’re not an early riser, there’s plenty of time to swing in for lunch.
The only exception to the two regulars is on August 17th, when I’m headed back to Sackville for another fun CollectorCon! I missed the last one, on account of being sold out of books from the one-two punch of CaperCon and Y-Con. I’m excited to be back amongst the rare toys, classic comics, and all the fun nostalgia CollectorCon offers. 11-4 at the Sackville Legion. Worth a trip. Trust me, you’ll find something awesome.
That’s enough of an update from me. Time for the good stuff! More Patchworld Nova!
Again, this is a “working draft”. It’s gone through a couple rounds of editing, but don’t expect this to be the final version. I have swatted most of the typos, and any that remain are simply a mark of my humanity.
Troop and the expedition wind up in an unexpected oasis, but can they trust it? Find out in Chapter 7: The Paradise!

The Myo-rak transport vehicle managed to survive crossing six patches without incident. It helped speed their progress in three, saved their lives in two, and made them a friend in one.
Arany, as Callie liked to call them, was a living, black liquid sludge. As near as Troop could tell, they looked like a sort of ambulatory crude oil; slick and thick. This alien puddle resided inside, and powered, a spider-like pneumatic suit. It had eight slender legs, and they functioned in exactly the same way as an arachnid, pumping liquid in and out to make them walk. In addition, they could flatten these limbs out and, by swirling within their central tank, spin them around. This enabled them to lift into the air like a drone. The central body had a glass dome, and the creature could make shapes in their body. It used this ability to depict simple pictures of items to communicate.
They’d been in a sort of forest field, where, instead of trees there were blades of grass that grew taller than a sequoia. The patch had good weather, decent visibility, and didn’t appear to have predators. The group had emerged from their transport for the night, and this simple act had gotten the being’s attention. Carefully approaching, Arany had done the same as them, splashing in and out of their suit to illustrate their similarities.
It rode around in a machine. They rode around in a machine. For the odd liquid alien, it was enough to establish friendship. It followed them as they crossed its home, guiding them and doing its best to “talk” through pictograms. When they’d left the world of enormous swaying blades, the blob in the spider robot came along.
It was the flesh world that was the Myo-rak vehicle’s undoing.
Crossing through the barrier, it was unlike any other patch they’d seen. They’d entered the body of an enormous being. There was no false sky, no sky at all. It was a cavern, bigger than a dozen stadiums. Bone arches spanned above them, with pink sacks of fat hanging between them. A ridge of spine ran along the length of the cave, and there were clusters of red trees that looked more like a network of veins than actual plants, stretching from ground to ceiling above. The ground was soft, textured like muscle, and the feet on the Myo-rak vehicle sank deep with every step. It was like trying to walk in a half-inflated bouncy castle. The underside dragged along the ground, and walking would have been faster.
The Rovisco mechanics had a suggestion to help, and, with everyone working per their instructions, they were able to create wide, circular ‘shoes’ for the vehicle’s legs. These distributed the weight and got it back up to speed, but not without cost. The plates used to create the solution had come from the protective armor. The gerbil guys insisted that they’d be able to put it back into place once the expedition had crossed safely, but for now, large portions of the vehicle engine were exposed. The speed seemed worth the risk, but it made Troop nervous.
Like any body, this one was not without its defenders. As they crossed the cavern, blobs of protoplasm secreted from the walls, accumulated in sloppy lumps, and, with a sluggish rolling movement, advanced on the group. They were slow, but abundant. The crawler managed to avoid them for a while, but there were too many to dodge them all. The sticky stuff managed to snag one of the legs and attach. The slimy thing stretched as they continued past it, like a piece of gum, but it didn’t break. Hyus ordered one of his men out the top hatch to fire on it. The blasts of white energy all hit accurately, but didn’t break the connection. As they continued along, more of the gelatinous mass collided with it, like a towline. They began climbing toward them along the taffy-like tether.
It was more than Sargent Bayfield could take. “You’ve got to let me shoot that stuff off! For Christ’s sake, it’s not a person! It’s a pile of cells looking to digest us!”
Hyus considered it, scrunched up his face, and blinked. He turned to his other subordinate. “Bring him one of his projectile launchers. Just one. We will allow it in this instance.” He turned to Bayfield. “Please, attempt to be accurate. I don’t want you shooting the walls and floor any more than necessary. We don’t want to hurt this creature.”
Bayfield rolled his eyes, took the assault rifle, and joined the other Myo-rak on the roof. His aim was true, and the weapon made short work of the blobs, blasting them off the leg and severing the connection. Several bullets hit the ground, causing it to rupture and squirt a thick brown liquid. Watching through the window, Hyus didn’t say anything, but Troop could tell he was upset by it.
In the hours that followed, Sargent Bayfield had to clear the legs a dozen times. The longer they were there, the more of the protoplasm there was to avoid, and it wasn’t possible to keep it from reaching the ship. Bayfield couldn’t be everywhere at once. One by one, they returned everyone’s weapons to help fend off the gloopy tide.
Every touch left minor damage, corrosion in the legs. Even though they were able to keep them off, the harm accumulated. One of the flat armor shoes that the Rovisco had improvised came loose and partially detached. The ride got bumpier as the vehicle lurched, slowed by the loss.
Their route had afforded them several choices as the hollow had narrowed and widened in different places. The choices they’d made had been based on avoiding the blobs, and wasn’t the course they’d have taken otherwise. A large coil of organ had risen up along-side them, forming a rising cliff on their right. To their left, the wall of the cavern drew closer and angled down, narrowing and increasing in difficulty. If it got too thin or steep, they’d be forced to turn around and go back. That wasn’t an option, not with their pursuers.
Troop was surprised when Arany crawled out and joined them on the top of the vehicle. If they had weapons, Troop wasn’t aware of them. It scurried over to his side and, using his body to make a picture in the glass dome, showed Troop the image of an eyeball.
They flattened their arms, spun, and rose into the air like a reverse whirlybird.
“Good idea!” said Troop. He shouted over to Callie, raising his voice. “They’re going to look around! Try and spot a way out of this mess!”
She winced at his voice. Her head was tilted, and she kept covering her ear between rifle shots. Whatever was going on with her hearing was getting worse. She hadn’t wanted to talk about it though, choosing instead to retreat into herself. Troop didn’t like it, but there wasn’t any way to force her to talk to him about it. He’d convinced her to have Anderson look it over earlier, but the medic hadn’t found more than a bit of tenderness and swelling. He said it was likely an ear infection and had given her a handful of antibiotics. Callie had taken them, but, based on her expression, the pills hadn’t solved the problem. There wasn’t anything else Troop could think to do about it. He wished she’d talk to him about it, but he knew that was selfish of him. For all he knew, the very act of talking could make it hurt for her.
There was a sudden lurch as the one of the vehicle’s back legs buckled and snapped. Everything tipped sideways and Troop dropped to his knees, grabbing at the edge to keep from falling off. There was a small geyser of brown liquid splashing up from where the jagged remains of the leg had cut deep into the muscle they were walking on. This dark sludge coursed down along their descending route, creating a stream that the other left-hand legs trudged through. The billowing steam and sizzling noises that followed didn’t give them long to react.
Hyus ordered them around, but before they could backtrack to a point above where the juice was flowing from, they lost another shoe. When the transport dropped this time, the body hit the flow, and everything began sparking and popping as the acidic blood flooded into the unarmored sections.
They were grabbing all the gear they could, preparing to abandon ship, when Arany returned. Their body fluctuated between two images; a strange smile that was a combination of human, Rovisco, and Ancervin expressions, and an arrow up.
They’d found the barrier.
The blobs had caught up and nearly engulfed the transport by the time they’d fastened ropes and everyone had climbed up the cliff. Up top, there were less protoplasmic creatures. The bulk were focused on eating their defeated prey. The expedition made it to the barrier before they finished. While none of them were happy about the prospect of walking again, everyone was glad to see the horrible place behind them.
The next patch was filled with flower covered hills, but instead of smelling wonderful, they all gave off a horrible sulfurous smell. It they walked through the bright blossoms under a blue-green sky, holding their noses from the stench. As bad as it was, it was a welcome relief. At least nobody was trying to kill them here. They saw clusters of flowers, piled high, like tangled hills. These had lights, and they could see round colorful figures moving around in the strange bushy mounds.
These inhabitants didn’t leave their homes, and the expedition avoided getting too close. There was no reason for interaction if it could be avoided.
When they camped that night, Hyus made a half-hearted attempt to get everyone to discard their lethal weapons. His argument wasn’t convincing, and Troop wondered if the pacifist armadillo man believed his own argument, or if he was simply trying on principle. Whatever the case, nobody was swayed. They all kept their guns.
Nobody’s weapons did them any good in the next patch. The place was a steamy, festering swamp filled with insects. The place somehow managed to produce such a large and varied assortment of predatory bugs that they annoyed almost everyone. There were purple centipedes that wrapped tight and chewed on the Ancervin’s skin. Swarms of fat, white lice crawled between the plates on the Myo-rak, seeking out crevices. The humans and Rovisco who weren’t in suits were hounded mercilessly by flying ticks. While the Nova Scotians were bothered, and constantly had to pick them off, the wounds the insects left on the smaller Rovisco were proportionately worse. Normally, they rode on people’s shoulders, but they took to hiding inside packs. Even there, the bugs would find a way in and harass them, but it was mildly better. Only Arany in their full robotic suit, and the Rovisco mechs, remained un-stung, un-bitten, and un-damaged.
It was a miserable slog. By the time they crossed the patch, everyone was itchy and so pocked with bites they looked like they’d contracted some sort of pox. Troop wasn’t sure, but it felt like he was coming down with something. He felt dizzy and nauseous after eating.
The next world was a cold, dry desert. Waves of coarse grit in an endless sequence of gray. Windswept sculptures dotted the landscape, all knocked over, half buried in the ground, and eroded so smooth it was impossible to tell what they were originally supposed to be. Hyus told everyone to stay off of them, and not walk on any of the fallen stones. Troop realized that it was entirely possible they weren’t sculptures at all. They may well have been this patch’s inhabitants. They gave them a wide berth.
The place was depressing. After the flesh world, the mood of the expedition had been deteriorating. Troop could sense the tension between Hyus and Bayfield. This extended beyond the pair to their subordinates and the Rovisco. The Ancervin seemed frustrated by the tension, displeased with the lack of cooperation. Enler was still on good terms with Troop, but it was clear that the journey was taking a toll on him physically. He’d injured his arm somewhere, Troop wasn’t sure how, but suspected he’d fallen when the transport tipped. It made talking difficult since he couldn’t gesture so well.
And Callie. Callie wasn’t talking to anyone. She was the most miserable of the lot. She spent the days with her head tilted at an awful angle, wincing in pain from whatever was wrong with her ear. She was short tempered and kept herself distant. When she asked Troop to leave her alone, he respected it, even though he didn’t want to.
They were a grim, injured lot, trudging through the ashen sand in single file. One advantage to the semi-barren landscape was excellent sight-lines. They spotted another barrier on the morning of the second day and reached it by the third.
When they cut through the force wall, the inhabitants were already there, waiting for them.
A long, silky carpet extended through a crowd of smiling people. They were humanoid, had thin fur, and large whiskers. They could have been the evolutionary equivalent of humanity if it had developed from felines instead of primates. These beings were minimally clothed and most wore only thin, flowing pants and an assortment of jewelry. They waved and made a sharp clicking sound with their tongues. For some reason, Troop felt at ease as soon as he saw them. Even as he experienced the sensation, he knew it was odd. After all the places they’d been, they’d never had a waiting welcome. How had they even known they were coming?
But, try as he might, he couldn’t sense malice in their presence. As the crowd beckoned them in, he stepped through onto the carpet. One by one, the others followed, eyes wide at the strange reception.
They were in a sparse forest, or perhaps a large garden. The trees, a refreshingly normal shade of green, were all wrapped in flowering vines. The sky was blue and the air smelled wonderful. More than wonderful, it smelled like something cooking. As Troop proceeded along the carpet, he saw that it led to a wide clearing ahead where several bright colored tents were set up. These weren’t staked into the ground, but hung from the air, suspended by balloons. They were more like floating awnings than privacy tents, with open faces allowing the visitors to see the interiors.
One of them was filled with tables loaded with food, piled high in decorative displays. Dozens of the strange creatures attended these, prepared to dish out servings. Another had a series of tubs, fountains, and showers. This too had attendants bearing towels, fans, and scrubbers. Another had beds and cots along with an assortment of strange machines. A fourth had what looked like an engineering bay, with an inventory of raw materials like wood, sheets of metal, and glass. The attendants there were all more dressed than the other people, wearing aprons and gloves.
The group gawped at the display. It was unbelievable and far too generous to be trusted. In the back of his head, Troop knew he shouldn’t take it at face value. But after months of hardship, he couldn’t stop the tremble in his chest at the vision of comfort. He found himself involuntarily salivating at the smells and almost dizzy with the possibilities.
A woman, covered in pale white fur, approached him with her hands extended out, palms upward. She stopped right before him and bowed her head, indicating Troop should take her hands. He looked back at the others, but they were all as star-struck as he was. Enler gave a tiny nod, indicating Troop should do what she wanted.
He took her hands, marveling at the tiny cat-like pads on her fingertips.
As soon as he did, he heard a voice in his head. For some reason, it felt like warm water, rinsing his skull. He understood what she was saying perfectly.
*Welcome to Celevine, traveler. We are so happy to see you!*
Troop hadn’t been expecting that, and his instinctive response was to draw back his hands. As soon as he did, the balmy feeling in his mind stopped. The woman smiled. Unbothered by his surprise, she kept her hands out, for him to take them again. Cautiously, he did.
*I don’t mean to frighten you, new friend. Quite the opposite. We’ve watched your progress for many days now and know you have experienced much hardship. We seek only to comfort you.* She reached her thumbs around and rubbed the tops of his hands. *I am Minala, and we’re all very glad you’ve come.*
Troop cleared his throat, unsure if he should speak or try to respond with his mind. He didn’t really know how to talk telepathically, so he just spoke, hoping that what he said matched what he thought well enough.
“My name is Troop. I come from a patch called Nova Scotia. Our group is trying to get to the Spire.”
She nodded. *Our departed guardians. There is much interest in them these days. So many new friends visiting.*
The news surprised Troop. “You’ve had other visitors? Species who made it through the barriers?” he asked.
She let go of one of his hands and stepped to his side, still holding the other. They walked like a couple, and she led him toward the pavilion with the beds. There was an arch at one end, like an airport scanner.
*A few. Yours has more variety than the others. If you’ll allow it, we’d like to take a closer look at you, so we can mend your wounds and better meet your dietary needs. Would this be all right with you?*
Minala gestured to the arch and gave him a comforting look. He’d been trusting so far, but there was a limit. Troop pulled away, letting go of her hand and looking back at the others. He realized that he wasn’t the only one who’d picked up a partner. Everyone was touching and holding hands with a native. Several of the Rovisco mechanics were being held by their cat-like hosts. Even Arany had opened up a port and one of them had a finger in it, touching their sludge body.
Troop wanted to trust it, but it felt strange. Too good.
He wished he could to talk to Callie and Enler. He’d even settle for Hyus or Bayfield. He had to discuss it with someone. They weren’t just going to accept it, were they? Should they?
Before he could manage it, Callie made a decision. Letting go of the man she was holding on to, she marched confidently toward the analysis portal. She stepped in, and several attendants got to work. One activated it, another touched some sort of control panel, and the third stood in front of her, smiling reassurance.
The portal was filled with white light, and Callie vanished in it. Troop squinted, trying to see what was happening as the glow dimmed and shifted to green. She was still there, unharmed. The attendants seemed excited about something. They didn’t speak, but touched each other briefly, talking. One of them came over and tapped Minala. Her eyes went wide, she smiled, and offered Troop her hand. He took it.
*Your friend,* thought Minala. *She carries a surprise. Another group of travelers within her body! Very small. Their presence was painful, but we can help her. Help them both.*
Another group of travelers? Troop didn’t understand. He said as much. “What are you talking about?”
*Come. Look,* said Minala, guiding him over to one of the machines. They were showing Callie as well, one of them had a hand on her neck, with a finger touching her earlobe. For the first time in days, her face was relaxed, eyes wide as she looked into the box. The device contained a sort of deep holographic screen. Troop recognized the curves and twists depicting her inner ear, but as the vision zoomed in, they saw that the entire cavity was filled with tiny buildings. Tunnels, wove through her flesh and had been dug into her skull. Little people were moving around at incredible speed. They were tricky to see, and Troop could only make them out when they stood still.
Callie figured it out before he did.
“The tiny world. The fourth patch we crossed, with the micro-cities. They must have come from there,” she said. Pointing to the display, she continued. “Those look like transmitter dishes. That noise I’ve been hearing, they’ve been trying to communicate.”
Minala, with a hand on both of them, responded. *They were unaware how much it was hurting you. We’ve asked them to stop.*
“You can do that? Talk to them?” asked Callie.
*Doctor Cleops says it’s difficult to hear their specific thoughts. It’s too fast, but they feel each other’s intentions. For now, it’s enough. If you give us a little time, I’m certain we can find a way to record and replay things so it’s better. Once we’ve done that, you can talk to each other and discuss how you’d like to proceed.*
“Proceed?” said Troop. “We need to remove them, of course. She can’t have an alien civilization riding around in her skull!”
Minala smiled and nodded. *Of course. Whatever she wishes.*
Callie stared at the tiny city, marveling at it. “I wonder what they’ve been trying to say.”
Troop knew that expression, and he tried to stop the idea even as she considered it.
“Callie, you can’t keep them in there!”
She turned and gave him a glare. It was the expression he’d first feared her giving him, way back when he’d shown up at her house, unsure how she’d feel about seeing him. “It’s my body, Troop. Fuck off. I just want to talk to them before I make any decisions.”
She was right. He knew it. But the idea scared him. They had no idea what the
consequences could be. They’d marched across their world, and it had looked normal enough, but they had no idea who they really were. For all she knew, they’d dig through her skull and colonize her brain. He hated the thought of it.
Minala, responding to his tension, gave his arm a squeeze. *Come on, your turn. Let’s get you fixed up and figure out what we can safely feed you. I know you’re hungry and injured.*
He was about to protest, but looking around, he saw that several of the others had already made up their minds as well. Several of the Rovisco were clustered together in one of the scanners. Others, some of the more wounded ones, drained from the awful flying ticks, had already gone through. Already, they were being treated, and he saw doctors mending their injuries. Hyus was too big to fit through one, but several of their hosts were using hand-held devices on him.
Troop relented. If this was all an elaborate ploy to kill them, it had already worked. Enough of the group had decided on trust. His own muscles ached, and his skin was raw and itchy, covered with irritating stings. And the food. The food smelled so good.
He let Minala lead him into the scanner with a smile.
Once they had their physical dimensions, the engineering and carpentry tent got to work on fabricating custom seating, tables, and dishware for them. By the time they were mended, they’d filled the open space between the tents with an eclectic sort of restaurant. The food tent had been modified, with many of the meals switched out. Each dish had a tiny plaque with pictures of the species they were meant for. Troop was surprised by how much of the human marked food looked like actual human food. He piled his plate, glad for anything other than their awful protein bars and the dry Myo-rak cookies. Their hosts, the Celevere, were interspersed with them, joining in the feast. They kept close, so they could talk, and tried out as much of their neighbor’s food as they could. Whatever technology they had used to create the elaborate meal, understood the connections between brain and tastebuds, because while he didn’t recognize the look or shapes of things, the flavors were familiar and wonderful. It was a strange version of home.
As thrilled as he was, it was nothing compared to Hyus’ reaction. Almost everything on the buffet had been edible to the large armadillo-folk, and the Myo-rak had made sure to take a sample of everything. With the first bite, something that looked like a potato, his big eye scrunched shut and his side-eyes went wide. Troop wasn’t sure he liked it, but a moment later Hyus threw back his head and hooted loudly, much like an owl.
“By the board!” he shouted. Without hesitation he scooped another spoon of something else and jammed it in his mouth. He repeated the process, hooting and shouting. Seeing his reaction, the other two Myo-rak did the same, tasting the new food. Their response was the same, raising their heads and howling in delight.
All around them, the Celevere, began laughing at the sight, sharing in their joy. Troop and the others couldn’t help but join in. The whole expedition unraveled and opened up as relief washed over them. They grinned and ate, pausing only to wash down the mouthfuls and giggle before having more. The sound was a disjointed mixture of barks and slaps, chuckles and hisses. Even Arany, sipping from a dish of purple slime, tapped their feet in a rhythm.
Troop couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so good.
They ate until they were stuffed. The smaller species finished first and the hulking Myo-rak last. The sky was streaked with a lavender sunset, dotted with tiny green moons, by the time they all finished. Hyus leaned back onto his hands, cross legged on his custom mat.
“Never in my life would I have imagined,” he said, shaking his head. “I did not know such things were possible.”
Troop, sitting nearby, sipped a warm thin liquid. It tasted like tea with the thickness of soup. Wrong, but good enough. “All you’ve ever eaten is those wafers?”
Hyus nodded. “It is so. Our people focus on efficiency. On the great question of the game, and the resolving of our identity. Food is fuel, only. Unimportant to that goal.” He uncrossed his legs, stretched them out, and rubbed his stomach. “I begin to understand your previous complaints.”
Everyone laughed and Sargent Bayfield called out from across the table. “Looks like you’re learning a lot these days.”
It was meant as a jibe, but Hyus took it serious. He huffed twice, agreeing. “It is true. There is much more complexity than I had anticipated.”
Enler waved his arms and coughed. “Truth thing.”
They all relaxed, feeling full and comfortable. As they did, the Celevere began packing up the temporary encampment. A huge multi-ballooned blimp rose from the horizon, coming to collect them. It was like a small town, suspended by the floating bubbles. The medical bay, kitchen, and engineering all lifted up and connected with it.
Minala stood. Her foot still touched Troop’s as she spoke. *We’d like to bring you to the other travelers. The trip is not far. You can rest on the way and meet them in the morning.*
Looking around, it was clear that everyone’s partner was conveying the same idea. The prospect of others – more people with the same goal of reaching the spire – was exciting. Their variety, while sometimes difficult, had been an asset on their trip. The more species who could get through the barriers and make it to the spire, meant there was more of a chance of stopping the Outbreak. It was more good news.
To Troop, it felt inevitable. They’d been through so many awful places, it made sense that, finally, they’d land somewhere good. Someplace easy.
They climbed aboard the flying city and rose into the sky.
The landscape of Celevine was beautiful with the dawn. Troop and Enler leaned on the railing, looking out over the misty land below. Enler was munching on a round fruit that looked like a cantaloupe sized grape. Troop was sipping more warm tea-soup. The patch was verdant and full of rivers. The place was rife with tall, pointed volcanoes. But instead of molten destruction, they bubbled over with clear water. Their sides were green and blossomed with color. There were no buildings on the ground that they could see. All of their structures floated, only landing temporarily as necessary. Minala had explained this was on purpose, to preserve the natural beauty of the world.
Callie arrived and squeezed herself between the two, putting an arm around each. “Sorry I’ve been distant, guys. That ear thing. It wasn’t good.”
Troop turned, translated for Enler, and the Ancervin wiggled his antlers, understanding.
“It’s okay,” said Troop. “This trip’s been very hard. I’m surprised we’re doing as well as we are.”
Callie nodded. “Ain’t that the truth. My little friends are surprised we’re still alive.”
Troop frowned. “Little friends? You can hear them now?”
Callie nodded. “Oh yeah. Started last night. Whatever the Celevere told them, it worked. I guess it makes sense. They had years yesterday.”
They were quick to adapt, they knew that from the time spent in their patch. Still, it surprised him. He hadn’t expected she’d be able to talk to them so quickly.
“So, what do they want? Why are they in your head?”
“They want the same thing as us. To get to the Spire, find out why they were taken from their homeworld, and stop themselves from being wiped out.” She shrugged. “They seem reasonable. Now that they have my full body scan, they can hitch a ride without hurting me. They say that if I give them materials, they might be able to make some sort of ship, to leave. But that would take a while. Months for me. Generations for them.”
Troop didn’t like thinking about his ex-girlfriend being some sort of generational colony for micro-aliens. “The Celevere said they could extract them.”
She nodded. “They could. But then, they’d have to stay here. They’d have to abandon their mission.”
Troop knew her well enough to know what she’d decided. He sighed, deciding to trust her. After all, he’d always trusted her before. There was no good reason to stop now. “Do these new friends of yours have a name? If they’re joining the group, we should know what to call them so we can include them.”
Callie smiled. “They call themselves the Iza.”
Troop leaned in toward her ear and whispered. “Welcome to the team, Iza. Glad to have you aboard.”
There was metallic tapping behind them as Arany scampered up to them. The creature skidded to a halt, tipped it’s dome so they could see clearly, and formed one of its liquid pictures. They saw a rectangle hanging from a circle, then an arcing arrow leading down. They turned, and pointed with a pair of their legs.
“We’re landing? Over there?” asked Troop.
The dome filled with the generic smile expression, and Arany ran back the way they’d come.
“I guess we’ve been told where to go,” said Callie.
They followed their robot spider companion through town, responding to the waves and greetings of the Celevere as they passed them. By the time they got to the opposite edge, the ship had almost landed. Most of the rest of the expedition was there. Hyus joined them.
“We’re straight through to another barrier already! These dirigibles may appear idyllic, but they’re quite speedy,” he said.
“Are we planning on leaving already?” asked Callie. “We just got here.”
Troop didn’t think they were. “No, we need a break. A few days at least. Maybe the other group is preparing to leave, that’s why they’re here.”
It made sense to them. Nobody was prepared to jump back into the nightmare journey across the patches just yet.
Minala arrived just before they landed. They all disembarked and followed her toward the bright yellow forcefield. Before they arrived, a trio of creatures came running out to meet them. They looked like dogs, but their heads hung low, and they had almost human arms sprouting from their shoulders. The Celevere following them had difficulty keeping up as they rushed toward Troop and the others.
When they arrived, the first reached out and, without permission, grabbed one shoulder arm each onto Troop and Minala. Instantly, they were mentally connected. Troop heard an urgent voice in his head.
“Do you have weapons? Can your people fight?”
Troop flinched. Minala, despite being used as a conduit, smiled, fine with the inconsiderate treatment.
“Uhm, yes?” he said.
The dog-being shook itself, like it was drying off from a bath. “This way. Quickly! You must follow me!” It let go and raced back the way it had come. The Celevere who’d been following them, just about to catch up, reversed direction and went off after them again.
Troop looked at the others. The other creatures had conveyed the same message. Everyone looked confused. It didn’t make sense, but whatever was happening seemed urgent. Troop took off after the creatures at a steady jog.
“We should go see what that’s about!” he yelled to the others. The group followed.
As they raced down some stairs and around a rocky outcropping, the area in front of the barrier came into view. Troop saw that the Celevere were setting up the same sort of reception as they had for them; multiple tents, cooking food, and medical treatment. There were crowds of them, all smiling and happy for new visitors.
The dog alien led them down the long carpet where there was an assortment of other species. Troop didn’t even look at them though. His eyes locked on the barrier.
There, on the other side, chewing their way through the wall, was the Outbreak.
Dark figures in black fog. Dozens of hungry, empty eyes. Troop could feel the menace like a wave of heat.
Minala smiled and squeezed his hand.
*More new friends!*

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