Neo Chronicles: Black Void
Episode 11: Load of Crap
Table of Contents
Once again, I'm out an' about in a city, all alone with no where t'go an' nothin' t'do. Once again, the locals look weird—this time lookin' like some messed up amalgamation of slug-slash-lizard-slash-lobster people. Everywhere they go, they leave an oozing slimy trail of—y'know, I don't even wanna know—behind as they crawl about. Once again, I'm a stranger in a strange place.
Ri'lar told me this city is called Nuvolia. It's on a moon—Geonra—orbiting an uninhabitable gas planet in the somethin' somethin' nebula. Hey, I'm tryin' to get this galactic mumbo jumbo down. I'd say I've done good enough to remember all that. Either way you look at it, I'm a long way from home.
As strange as it is, though, I think I'm startin' to accept that. Don't get me wrong, I still wanna get back to Earth. Shoot, given the chance, I'd be there in a heartbeat, but—but it's just that the longer I spend out here, ridin' the highways an' byways of space an' everything else out here, the easier it is to realize...
I'm probably never gonna see home again.
I mean, take this place for instance. As crazy as things look around here, it's like I'm barely noticin'. Yeah, this Nuvolia city looks as foreign and exotic as all the other places I been—the people, the oddly grey, dusty lookin' buildings they live in, the strange flying pack mules they drive around like cars—every other planet an' moon an' asteroid I've been on looked just as weird, if not weirder, but—I dunno, it's like I don't care anymore. The strangeness lost its flair. I've come to expect it.
Maybe this is a good thing, though. Me becomin' accustomed to life out here an' all—makes it easier for me to settle down an' get all integrated. Who knows? Maybe if I stay on a rock long enough, I'll grow to like the snot they call food, pick up on some of the customs, learn a lil' sum'm 'bout the way they talk, what they do. Yeah, I could really make a life for myself. I mean, I've already seen cities that look close enough like where I come from. What's to stop me from goin' all the way?
No. “Staak” it, as Ri'lar would say. I done seen way too much crud out here. Crazy stupid drunk aliens in a bar, alien gangstas, rabid bunny people in a cave, 80 foot giants actin' like they own the place, a planet dying... God, all those people...
I pass by what looks to be the local dumpster an' it pretty much sums up all my feelings on the subject. This is a load a' crap. No matter how you look at it—in the front, in the back, sideways, above an' below the cracks—it's still just a pile a' crap, an' I'm lookin' t'get out an' get back. Back to a place where the crap smells like crud, a place where I can inhale my own mud. None of this crazy intergalactic sludge.
So I make my way back to the shipyard. It's not hard to pick out the cargo carrier from the lot. Still looks as rusty an' run down as the day I first set my eyes on it. Ha, I remember thinkin' somethin' along the lines of it bein' a tank. Nah man, I don't even think that boat even has weapons on board. An' I doubt whatever plating it's made of could survive much laser fire. Part a' the reason we're always runnin' from trouble when it finds us.
As I walk on board, I remember the lil' talk me an' Ri'lar had just before landin'. I finally confronted him about the so called business he's been up to every place we've been. At first, he responded like always—shrugged it off, ignored me, the usual—but I wouldn't back down. Got pretty heated—the small argument that we had—but I didn't care. I wanted answers, and with all the crud he put me through—yeah, I put the blame on him, and I could tell he sorta felt that I was in the right—he broke down an' let me in on the whole gig.
Turns out that he's actually takin' the fight back to those so called gangstas that're chasin' us. It's why we've been hoppin' from world to world. He's been targetin' all the major hideouts. I dunno why he wanted to keep me in the dark about it. If I'da known from the get go, I'da been a lot more quiet. Mighta even tried to join in an' helped out. Shoot, the way I see it, the sooner they outta the way, the sooner I get back, so I'm all for it.
I look up in the driver's seat an' see all these different gizmos an' buttons around. Don't know what I'm lookin' for, so I give up an' head to my dank lil' spot in the back. A quick change of clothes from one leather like space suit to another. Same colors too: black, grey, an' blue. Even though the generated atmosphere on this moon is good enough for me to breathe in, I put on the helmet anyway. If anything, I like the way its visor works, givin' readouts on everything I look at an' all. Some of the pictures I can make out, an' usin' what I know about context clues, I can sorta pretend to know what the words is sayin' too.
So much junk in here. The place is riddled with metal boxes all along the floor. It takes me at least ten minutes to find my sword. After I pick it up, hold it up, inspect it for scratches and the like, I get to thinkin'. Maybe it'd be better if I had somethin' like a case for it. What they call those things? Sheaths? Scabbard? Yeah, I need somethin' like that. There's bound to be one in this mess somewhere.
No such luck.
So like I was sayin', if the whale-face hadda told me about the situation earlier, I woulda been all for it. I'd at least have some perspective on the matter. People tend to respond better when they have a reason for doin' what they're told. Now me—oh here we go, maybe. So I can put this belt cross ways around my torso, and—now how's the sword supposed to—ah magnetized. I can dig it. Pretty weird magnet. How'm I supposed to make sure it doesn't go flying off? I jump and shake and move around trying to get it off, but the sword doesn't seem to come loose. I press a button on the belt holster and the sword falls to the floor. I turn it back on, and the sword comes back up to it. Are these two things a pair? If the magnet's that strong why didn't any other metal come flyin' at it. Well, if it works, it works.
Now as for me, knowing the why is nice, but it doesn't always guarantee me doin' what I'm told. See, when Ri'lar told me his plan, I made up right then and there that I'd do whatever it takes to speed up the process. The sooner the threat's gone, the sooner I get back.
So I got my sword. I got my space suit. Atmosphere is decent enough. Kinda on the tropical side, but I can dig it. Nothin' too hot or cold since this adaptive wear makes me feel just right no matta what. I got my helmet, too. I figured out how to get a map thing goin' with it so I can make my way back to the ship if I get lost. A blue dot shows up at the upper left corner of the visor that I can toggle on and off.
I think I'm ready. I leave the ship and head off into the city lookin' for Ri'lar. Not gonna be a tourist anymore. I'm done with that. I'm done with ridin' in the back seat. Gotta be proactive about my situation if I ever hope to make somethin' out of it.
I make my way between the crowd. Lots of people walking the murky roads. A lot, so I veer off and head in between the buildings and move along the alleyways. Makes things a lot easier. Nothin' back here except the small vermin of the planet. I mean nobody. With me bein' all paranoid an' junk, I start to imagine that the reason no one goes down the alleys is because they're full of trouble.
I don't really know what I set out to find. It's not like I know where Ri'lar would be hanging out at. I wish I knew more about this map thing, cuz maybe I'd be able to use it to find him. I know he uses somethin' like it to find me when I get lost. Maybe there's somethin' in the translator or the suit that he uses to get a lock on me. If I could figure out what, that'd make this easier.
I'm out walkin' for forty or fifty minutes and feel like I've been from one end of town to the next. The place isn't that big at all. In comparison to all the other places I've been, the whole moon ain't that big. Each step is more of a hop with how light the gravity is.
As I continue on my way, I start to wonder exactly what it is I'm gonna do when I get there. Yeah, it's not a matter of “if,” it's when. I'm gonna find Ri'lar, but what am I gonna find him doin', settin' off bombs? How exactly has he been goin' about doin' his thing?
I'm not given much time to wonder over that as it seems that I've wandered into another situation of sorts. I don't know how long it's been happening, but the visor on this helmet picked up on some bodies in the general vicinity that seem to have been tailin' me for quite a while.
I stop walking for a moment, and I notice the red dots stop too. There's about four of 'em. They're close by. Like real close. Matta fact, the helmet says they're like two feet beside me, but I don't see 'em. So either I've already found a way to break this thing, or they're invisible.
I wanna make a funny comment on how I always wind up in these situations. I wanna point out that, once again, I'd love to be home, and as cool as this space stuff is, I'm tired of it. Shoot, on the real, I wanna point out how stupid it is for me to be out here on my own, decked out like I'm goin' t'war, but honestly, the thoughts don't come fast enough, cuz before I know it I'm pinned up against a wall.
Something's got me. I can feel that whatever thing coiled up around my arms and legs, crucifix style. They're definitely invisible, and it's definitely a “they.” The helmet I'm wearing picks up on about four heat sources. One of them has me restrained, one stands to my left, another to my right, and I have to look up to see that the last one is scaling the walls like a spider, slowly creepin' up on down to do God-only-knows.
I think they know that I can “see” them because they start—what would you call that—“blinking” in and out of sight. Like they keep changing their mind. I guess if they're invisible, they could kill me an' no one would know it was them, but since I'm the only one back here to begin with, what's the point? They eventually decide to show themselves.
Snakes are all I see. They got arms, legs, walk up right, leafy feathers, but all an' all, I see a bunch of snakes. The one holdin' me to the wall with its tail gets all up in my face an' starts talkin'. Sounds like a threat. It's probably a threat. The dude's all menacing an' junk, tryna get me all scared. On any other day, it'd work. I'm fo real, it'd totally work, but to be honest, my mind isn't even here right now.
I'm still on Miraivus. I'm pleading with that Visigen lady for more time. Looking back on it, she probably did give me an extra sum'm, since me an' Ri'lar managed to get off, but still, that planet probably had billions of people. Yes, I'm callin' 'em people—real people—because the one thing I've learned is that these aliens ain't no different. Same vices, same morals, same goals. Some can even look like us.
God, why couldn't there have been more time? Then, maybe at least Ran coulda made it. It feels like I got her killed. She only stayed to try an' get me t'go. I'm not sorry that I didn't go, because there had to've been a few more people that made it off thanks to me, but still. Dang.
I feel the snake smack me across the head. Didn't mean to ignore him like I did. If he could understand me, I'd bother trying to explain. No, that's a lie. I wouldn't. It's none of his business how I feel. He smacks me again for good measure. If he messes up this helmet, I'm gonna be mad.
Do I have to fight them? I don't wanna do that. I'm waiting around half hoping that Ran would come in with her alien speak an' talk 'em outta this mugging. If I stay here long enough, maybe it'd happen. I know it won't, but it'd be real cool if it did. But she's dead, so it won't.
Maybe Ri'lar's just around the corner, ready to come in blasters poised. He tends to do that from time to time, y'know, when he's not too busy. If this were a TV show or comic book or somethin', that'd be the thing to happen.
Well, someone's gotta—what they call—Deus Ex on in. Maybe a good Samaritan? A stranger just passing by? No, there's a reason why no one walks back here, and I think these guys are it.
They're still tryna scare me with the whole talking thing. Hisses, low growls, alien words, the works, but I'm just not biting. I'm actually more upset that they get spit on my visor. I should be scared, but then again, why? I don't have any money, nothing on me is worth anything, I'm certainly not worth anything with my planet de—let's not go there now. Aside from just being mean, these guys have no reason to do anything to me.
So I jus' tell 'em straight up, “this is stupid.” They don't take kindly to back talk seein' as how they get all riled up from it, but I keep on goin'.
“I know you guys can't hear a word I'm sayin', but I'mma talk anyway jus' t'make me feel better. Maybe you guys are psy's an' can hear me with your mind. That'd be real nice, but in any case,”
I stop for a moment and look to address them all. They seem to quiet down some, so I think I at least interest them.
“I'm lookin' for my friend—partner maybe? Yeah, I wouldn't say friend, acquaintance? Yeah, that's right, this dude named Ri'lar. Me an' him are new in town, an' he went off to do somethin', an' I wanna find him. You gon' let me go?”
They wait a moment to see if I'm done talkin', an' then try talkin' back. I learn from them just as much as they learned from me, so it gets us no where. I try to leave, but the dude's tail wraps around me tighter, so I'm thinkin' that's gonna be a no.
“Look, I don't wanna get into this. I'm just lookin' for Ri'lar.”
They really get excited over his name. Do they know him? They might. What does that mean, though? It could be trouble, or they could be friends of his. I know I keep mentioning this, but it'd be really cool if I could understand them. I hear them talking to each other, an' Ri'lar's name is dropped a few times. His full name too. Ri'lar-Asp'ec-Tripae, somethin' I keep forgettin' cuz it sounds weird. They definitely know him.
Should I break out an' run for it? I know I could do it. They really aren't overpowering me. Would that be smart. I say his name again to get their attention, and they repeat it back to me. Some expressions are universal. Just in the way we say that common name, we establish to each other that we both know ol' whale-face in some form or fashion. They loosen their grip on my arms and legs, eventually letting go altogether. Again, I try to convey that I'm looking for Ri'lar.
They finally get it after what seems like a half hour, and it takes another half hour before I finally get that they know where he is. This is good. This is great, actually. Something gets worked out to the point that I'm following them to where I assume they have him. Feels more like chasing with how fast they're moving. They scurry an' scale the buildings like Olympic acrobats, but I manage to keep up.
They lead me out of the alleys and into the underground. It's dark, damp, an' a lot hotter, an' I think there's some poison gas, but with the suits help, I manage. They go invisible again and leave. They're really fast, too. Before I know it, they're completely outta sight. I run an' walk a bit in the dark, finding my way around the place. I can only assume that I'm in a sewer.
The helmet picks up on some heat sources up ahead. A bunch of 'em, so I run towards it. When I get there, I count like ten things, an' one is huge. What does the size of the dot mean? Is it just how big the thing is, or how much heat it's giving off? Either way, it's scary and on the other side of this wall.
As I approach the wall, I hear and feel a trembling, like something big is about to happen, so I hesitate. Then all of a sudden—BOOM—Ri'lar comes exploding through like he got blasted from some place. He passes right by me and lands on his butt. Naturally, I'm concerned about him, but I'm more intrigued by the thing that did it, so I look through the hole that he made and the first thing I see is more of those snakes.
I hear Ri'lar try to get up, an' he's sayin' “Get away from there!” like he's all concerned an' junk, so I take a few steps back, but then—oh—but then, I the heat sensor pick up a huge wave of somethin' comin' right at me. I can't see it with my eyes, but it gets closer an' closer, an' before I know it—BAM—I find myself sittin' right next to Ri'lar.
Episode 11: Load of Crap
Table of Contents
Once again, I'm out an' about in a city, all alone with no where t'go an' nothin' t'do. Once again, the locals look weird—this time lookin' like some messed up amalgamation of slug-slash-lizard-slash-lobster people. Everywhere they go, they leave an oozing slimy trail of—y'know, I don't even wanna know—behind as they crawl about. Once again, I'm a stranger in a strange place.
Ri'lar told me this city is called Nuvolia. It's on a moon—Geonra—orbiting an uninhabitable gas planet in the somethin' somethin' nebula. Hey, I'm tryin' to get this galactic mumbo jumbo down. I'd say I've done good enough to remember all that. Either way you look at it, I'm a long way from home.
As strange as it is, though, I think I'm startin' to accept that. Don't get me wrong, I still wanna get back to Earth. Shoot, given the chance, I'd be there in a heartbeat, but—but it's just that the longer I spend out here, ridin' the highways an' byways of space an' everything else out here, the easier it is to realize...
I'm probably never gonna see home again.
I mean, take this place for instance. As crazy as things look around here, it's like I'm barely noticin'. Yeah, this Nuvolia city looks as foreign and exotic as all the other places I been—the people, the oddly grey, dusty lookin' buildings they live in, the strange flying pack mules they drive around like cars—every other planet an' moon an' asteroid I've been on looked just as weird, if not weirder, but—I dunno, it's like I don't care anymore. The strangeness lost its flair. I've come to expect it.
Maybe this is a good thing, though. Me becomin' accustomed to life out here an' all—makes it easier for me to settle down an' get all integrated. Who knows? Maybe if I stay on a rock long enough, I'll grow to like the snot they call food, pick up on some of the customs, learn a lil' sum'm 'bout the way they talk, what they do. Yeah, I could really make a life for myself. I mean, I've already seen cities that look close enough like where I come from. What's to stop me from goin' all the way?
No. “Staak” it, as Ri'lar would say. I done seen way too much crud out here. Crazy stupid drunk aliens in a bar, alien gangstas, rabid bunny people in a cave, 80 foot giants actin' like they own the place, a planet dying... God, all those people...
I pass by what looks to be the local dumpster an' it pretty much sums up all my feelings on the subject. This is a load a' crap. No matter how you look at it—in the front, in the back, sideways, above an' below the cracks—it's still just a pile a' crap, an' I'm lookin' t'get out an' get back. Back to a place where the crap smells like crud, a place where I can inhale my own mud. None of this crazy intergalactic sludge.
So I make my way back to the shipyard. It's not hard to pick out the cargo carrier from the lot. Still looks as rusty an' run down as the day I first set my eyes on it. Ha, I remember thinkin' somethin' along the lines of it bein' a tank. Nah man, I don't even think that boat even has weapons on board. An' I doubt whatever plating it's made of could survive much laser fire. Part a' the reason we're always runnin' from trouble when it finds us.
As I walk on board, I remember the lil' talk me an' Ri'lar had just before landin'. I finally confronted him about the so called business he's been up to every place we've been. At first, he responded like always—shrugged it off, ignored me, the usual—but I wouldn't back down. Got pretty heated—the small argument that we had—but I didn't care. I wanted answers, and with all the crud he put me through—yeah, I put the blame on him, and I could tell he sorta felt that I was in the right—he broke down an' let me in on the whole gig.
Turns out that he's actually takin' the fight back to those so called gangstas that're chasin' us. It's why we've been hoppin' from world to world. He's been targetin' all the major hideouts. I dunno why he wanted to keep me in the dark about it. If I'da known from the get go, I'da been a lot more quiet. Mighta even tried to join in an' helped out. Shoot, the way I see it, the sooner they outta the way, the sooner I get back, so I'm all for it.
I look up in the driver's seat an' see all these different gizmos an' buttons around. Don't know what I'm lookin' for, so I give up an' head to my dank lil' spot in the back. A quick change of clothes from one leather like space suit to another. Same colors too: black, grey, an' blue. Even though the generated atmosphere on this moon is good enough for me to breathe in, I put on the helmet anyway. If anything, I like the way its visor works, givin' readouts on everything I look at an' all. Some of the pictures I can make out, an' usin' what I know about context clues, I can sorta pretend to know what the words is sayin' too.
So much junk in here. The place is riddled with metal boxes all along the floor. It takes me at least ten minutes to find my sword. After I pick it up, hold it up, inspect it for scratches and the like, I get to thinkin'. Maybe it'd be better if I had somethin' like a case for it. What they call those things? Sheaths? Scabbard? Yeah, I need somethin' like that. There's bound to be one in this mess somewhere.
No such luck.
So like I was sayin', if the whale-face hadda told me about the situation earlier, I woulda been all for it. I'd at least have some perspective on the matter. People tend to respond better when they have a reason for doin' what they're told. Now me—oh here we go, maybe. So I can put this belt cross ways around my torso, and—now how's the sword supposed to—ah magnetized. I can dig it. Pretty weird magnet. How'm I supposed to make sure it doesn't go flying off? I jump and shake and move around trying to get it off, but the sword doesn't seem to come loose. I press a button on the belt holster and the sword falls to the floor. I turn it back on, and the sword comes back up to it. Are these two things a pair? If the magnet's that strong why didn't any other metal come flyin' at it. Well, if it works, it works.
Now as for me, knowing the why is nice, but it doesn't always guarantee me doin' what I'm told. See, when Ri'lar told me his plan, I made up right then and there that I'd do whatever it takes to speed up the process. The sooner the threat's gone, the sooner I get back.
So I got my sword. I got my space suit. Atmosphere is decent enough. Kinda on the tropical side, but I can dig it. Nothin' too hot or cold since this adaptive wear makes me feel just right no matta what. I got my helmet, too. I figured out how to get a map thing goin' with it so I can make my way back to the ship if I get lost. A blue dot shows up at the upper left corner of the visor that I can toggle on and off.
I think I'm ready. I leave the ship and head off into the city lookin' for Ri'lar. Not gonna be a tourist anymore. I'm done with that. I'm done with ridin' in the back seat. Gotta be proactive about my situation if I ever hope to make somethin' out of it.
I make my way between the crowd. Lots of people walking the murky roads. A lot, so I veer off and head in between the buildings and move along the alleyways. Makes things a lot easier. Nothin' back here except the small vermin of the planet. I mean nobody. With me bein' all paranoid an' junk, I start to imagine that the reason no one goes down the alleys is because they're full of trouble.
I don't really know what I set out to find. It's not like I know where Ri'lar would be hanging out at. I wish I knew more about this map thing, cuz maybe I'd be able to use it to find him. I know he uses somethin' like it to find me when I get lost. Maybe there's somethin' in the translator or the suit that he uses to get a lock on me. If I could figure out what, that'd make this easier.
I'm out walkin' for forty or fifty minutes and feel like I've been from one end of town to the next. The place isn't that big at all. In comparison to all the other places I've been, the whole moon ain't that big. Each step is more of a hop with how light the gravity is.
As I continue on my way, I start to wonder exactly what it is I'm gonna do when I get there. Yeah, it's not a matter of “if,” it's when. I'm gonna find Ri'lar, but what am I gonna find him doin', settin' off bombs? How exactly has he been goin' about doin' his thing?
I'm not given much time to wonder over that as it seems that I've wandered into another situation of sorts. I don't know how long it's been happening, but the visor on this helmet picked up on some bodies in the general vicinity that seem to have been tailin' me for quite a while.
I stop walking for a moment, and I notice the red dots stop too. There's about four of 'em. They're close by. Like real close. Matta fact, the helmet says they're like two feet beside me, but I don't see 'em. So either I've already found a way to break this thing, or they're invisible.
I wanna make a funny comment on how I always wind up in these situations. I wanna point out that, once again, I'd love to be home, and as cool as this space stuff is, I'm tired of it. Shoot, on the real, I wanna point out how stupid it is for me to be out here on my own, decked out like I'm goin' t'war, but honestly, the thoughts don't come fast enough, cuz before I know it I'm pinned up against a wall.
Something's got me. I can feel that whatever thing coiled up around my arms and legs, crucifix style. They're definitely invisible, and it's definitely a “they.” The helmet I'm wearing picks up on about four heat sources. One of them has me restrained, one stands to my left, another to my right, and I have to look up to see that the last one is scaling the walls like a spider, slowly creepin' up on down to do God-only-knows.
I think they know that I can “see” them because they start—what would you call that—“blinking” in and out of sight. Like they keep changing their mind. I guess if they're invisible, they could kill me an' no one would know it was them, but since I'm the only one back here to begin with, what's the point? They eventually decide to show themselves.
Snakes are all I see. They got arms, legs, walk up right, leafy feathers, but all an' all, I see a bunch of snakes. The one holdin' me to the wall with its tail gets all up in my face an' starts talkin'. Sounds like a threat. It's probably a threat. The dude's all menacing an' junk, tryna get me all scared. On any other day, it'd work. I'm fo real, it'd totally work, but to be honest, my mind isn't even here right now.
I'm still on Miraivus. I'm pleading with that Visigen lady for more time. Looking back on it, she probably did give me an extra sum'm, since me an' Ri'lar managed to get off, but still, that planet probably had billions of people. Yes, I'm callin' 'em people—real people—because the one thing I've learned is that these aliens ain't no different. Same vices, same morals, same goals. Some can even look like us.
God, why couldn't there have been more time? Then, maybe at least Ran coulda made it. It feels like I got her killed. She only stayed to try an' get me t'go. I'm not sorry that I didn't go, because there had to've been a few more people that made it off thanks to me, but still. Dang.
I feel the snake smack me across the head. Didn't mean to ignore him like I did. If he could understand me, I'd bother trying to explain. No, that's a lie. I wouldn't. It's none of his business how I feel. He smacks me again for good measure. If he messes up this helmet, I'm gonna be mad.
Do I have to fight them? I don't wanna do that. I'm waiting around half hoping that Ran would come in with her alien speak an' talk 'em outta this mugging. If I stay here long enough, maybe it'd happen. I know it won't, but it'd be real cool if it did. But she's dead, so it won't.
Maybe Ri'lar's just around the corner, ready to come in blasters poised. He tends to do that from time to time, y'know, when he's not too busy. If this were a TV show or comic book or somethin', that'd be the thing to happen.
Well, someone's gotta—what they call—Deus Ex on in. Maybe a good Samaritan? A stranger just passing by? No, there's a reason why no one walks back here, and I think these guys are it.
They're still tryna scare me with the whole talking thing. Hisses, low growls, alien words, the works, but I'm just not biting. I'm actually more upset that they get spit on my visor. I should be scared, but then again, why? I don't have any money, nothing on me is worth anything, I'm certainly not worth anything with my planet de—let's not go there now. Aside from just being mean, these guys have no reason to do anything to me.
So I jus' tell 'em straight up, “this is stupid.” They don't take kindly to back talk seein' as how they get all riled up from it, but I keep on goin'.
“I know you guys can't hear a word I'm sayin', but I'mma talk anyway jus' t'make me feel better. Maybe you guys are psy's an' can hear me with your mind. That'd be real nice, but in any case,”
I stop for a moment and look to address them all. They seem to quiet down some, so I think I at least interest them.
“I'm lookin' for my friend—partner maybe? Yeah, I wouldn't say friend, acquaintance? Yeah, that's right, this dude named Ri'lar. Me an' him are new in town, an' he went off to do somethin', an' I wanna find him. You gon' let me go?”
They wait a moment to see if I'm done talkin', an' then try talkin' back. I learn from them just as much as they learned from me, so it gets us no where. I try to leave, but the dude's tail wraps around me tighter, so I'm thinkin' that's gonna be a no.
“Look, I don't wanna get into this. I'm just lookin' for Ri'lar.”
They really get excited over his name. Do they know him? They might. What does that mean, though? It could be trouble, or they could be friends of his. I know I keep mentioning this, but it'd be really cool if I could understand them. I hear them talking to each other, an' Ri'lar's name is dropped a few times. His full name too. Ri'lar-Asp'ec-Tripae, somethin' I keep forgettin' cuz it sounds weird. They definitely know him.
Should I break out an' run for it? I know I could do it. They really aren't overpowering me. Would that be smart. I say his name again to get their attention, and they repeat it back to me. Some expressions are universal. Just in the way we say that common name, we establish to each other that we both know ol' whale-face in some form or fashion. They loosen their grip on my arms and legs, eventually letting go altogether. Again, I try to convey that I'm looking for Ri'lar.
They finally get it after what seems like a half hour, and it takes another half hour before I finally get that they know where he is. This is good. This is great, actually. Something gets worked out to the point that I'm following them to where I assume they have him. Feels more like chasing with how fast they're moving. They scurry an' scale the buildings like Olympic acrobats, but I manage to keep up.
They lead me out of the alleys and into the underground. It's dark, damp, an' a lot hotter, an' I think there's some poison gas, but with the suits help, I manage. They go invisible again and leave. They're really fast, too. Before I know it, they're completely outta sight. I run an' walk a bit in the dark, finding my way around the place. I can only assume that I'm in a sewer.
The helmet picks up on some heat sources up ahead. A bunch of 'em, so I run towards it. When I get there, I count like ten things, an' one is huge. What does the size of the dot mean? Is it just how big the thing is, or how much heat it's giving off? Either way, it's scary and on the other side of this wall.
As I approach the wall, I hear and feel a trembling, like something big is about to happen, so I hesitate. Then all of a sudden—BOOM—Ri'lar comes exploding through like he got blasted from some place. He passes right by me and lands on his butt. Naturally, I'm concerned about him, but I'm more intrigued by the thing that did it, so I look through the hole that he made and the first thing I see is more of those snakes.
I hear Ri'lar try to get up, an' he's sayin' “Get away from there!” like he's all concerned an' junk, so I take a few steps back, but then—oh—but then, I the heat sensor pick up a huge wave of somethin' comin' right at me. I can't see it with my eyes, but it gets closer an' closer, an' before I know it—BAM—I find myself sittin' right next to Ri'lar.
