Echoes in the Dusk Page #2

• Science fiction

								


*It’s been less than an hour since it came.* 

*A Lurker.* 

*Ambush predator. Solitary habits. Highly territorial. Size category - 4, Large. Powerful front legs with razor sharp, three-toed claws. Serpentine head. 6 Inch fangs, segmented rows. Neutralizes prey with neurotoxic venom. Carries it in a hind sack of membranous tissue and cartilage. Drains it of bodily fluid over a period of 2-6 days. Prey is kept **alive** through the process.* 

With this, I am moving. The automatic routine of preparing for a hunt takes over. I find my bag, discarded by the remains of the front door. Inspecting it, I find it lacking. Not unusual since I just returned from a long hunt. 

I repack what I can find among the destruction, checking off items in my head. The process relaxes my body into the rhythm and I find myself moving more easily. The pain from earlier settles into a passive thrumming. 

*Hunting a Lurker mandates that a Strider carry three sealed tubes of anti-venom, and wear cut resistant nano-mesh armor.*  

I stash the single remaining anti-venom tube into my pack. 

*I should head into town first. Gather everything I need and have my armor repaired.* 

I start to calculate the time needed to do all of that. 

My vision wanders as I do, falling on a piece of broken pottery. 

*“Mom! I made you this. Look!”* Her voice echoes in my mind. The aching in my chest starts to rise up. My breathing quickens and I can feel my vision start to blur as tears threaten to well up and overwhelm me. 

A long moment of tense stillness passes. I can feel my body start to tighten with paralyzing fear once more. 

*No.* 

I move with a jerk, as if trying to rip myself away from the memory. My feet carry me to the side wall. Pushing it inward with a bloody hand reveals a hidden compartment. 

I reach inside, grasping the cool, glass cylinder. Contained within is a bundle of combined nerves and muscle, twisting into a strange pattern. The black and purple mass pulses with unnatural life. 

”*Anya, this BioSym is rare find indeed. A wonderful specimen, you should be proud of its acquisition.”* 

*I nod, taking the container back from the eager Dr. Therum. His eyes following the motion. 
”What do you think it does?” I ask, gazing into the tissue. Alive and moving, despite it having been removed from the brain stem of its host more than a week ago.* 

*The doctor continues, his eyes still locked on the BioSym. “Interesting question, you say this creature was extremely strong for its size, yes?”
I nod again. “It ripped apart two of my Pack. I’ve never seen anything like it. It was deranged and actively hostile.”* 

*”Hmm.” Therum continues.* 

*“BioSyms are still a bit of a mystery. Only through the irreversible act of consumption can we truly observe what the enhancement they grant will be. Each is unique, though I would urge caution with this one. Those taken from the region of the brain have been known to affect faculties and brain patterns in the users. Some changes can become…drastic.” 
”Thank you doctor, I’ll be careful. These things creep me out anyway, not really eager to start eating it.”* 

I let out a resigned breath as I stuff the casing into the bag on my back.

*Just in case.* 

I find the trail just outside the back window. A full Lurker is slow and easy to track. The night sings with life. 
My body moves on trained habit, making my way through the thick forest. Tree roots, large as town gates, curl up from the ground. Silver threads of moonlight cut through the thick canopy of diamond shaped leaves, their edges cutting sharp patterns into shadows at my feet. I have a few hours of travel ahead, but that has never really bothered me. 

*“Human Anya, could you explain your current enjoyment of our situation?” The quizzical eyes of Mycanar, a Phopal companion I worked with a few years back, falls into my mind’s eye.* 

*I remember thinking of how funny looking the Phopal are. Their species are a single organism of hyper-intelligent fungus.* 

*I look back at them with a curious smirk. Wiping away the sweat from my brow. “What do you mean?”*

*Mycanar moves closer, their round eyes scanning me up and down.*

*“You are experiencing joy, are you not? Yet we are far from any refuge or comfort your species would deem joyous. It is our understanding that humans detest being in such a situation. Why do you not? Are you mentally ill and in need of treatment?”* 

*That pulls a laugh out of me.* 

*”Well, it depends who you ask.” I smile at them but the joke is lost.* 

*”No Mycanar, I’m not mentally ill. Not any more than anyone else.”* 

*I turn my gaze out, taking in the myriad of stones, floating several feet above the ground across the expanse of desert before us. Each one a biome with its own ecosystem, supporting life amidst a harsh wasteland of amber sand.* 

*”I just enjoy being here more than most. I guess I see it for more than just a place that’s trying to kill me at every turn. This place is a wonder. An agreement made by each and every part to exist in balance. Just because we’re new to the game and struggling to play, doesn’t mean we can’t admire those that are better at it.” 

Mycanar’s eyes turn to look out as well. They seem to ponder on something for a long while. 
”I believe I understand your expressions, human Anya. Do you then wish to live out separate from other humans?”*

*I always found it easy to talk to Phopal, there is no judgement in anything they do. Their only interest is understanding.* 

*“Sometimes. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t considered it.” 
”Then why do you not?” 

I look back at the fungal person, their eyes now locked into the horizon, seeing something I can’t event start to imagine. Each Phopal speaks to any other that exists on the world. They are never alone. 

”Because, I know that wouldn’t be the best thing for me to do. In terms of survival. I’m not equipped to live out here without support from others. Humans have evolved to exist in communities, we don’t do so hot by ourselves.”

They nod in understanding. “We are alike, in this way. A single Phopal without a central mind is a terribly sad thing. To exist without our unity would be a fate worse than non-existence.”* 

*“Yea, something like that. Besides, my daughter would kill me if I tried to move her out here.”* 

I crest a small hill, the soft dirt giving way under my weight. I can feel water start to well up around the edges of my boots. The air shifts and the smell of decomposition hits me like a wave. Below, I can see the ground turn to marsh. Soft grass replaced by brackish water. Thick trunks and bushy leaves give way to gangly branches, bending downward from above like the grasping fingers of gigantic hands. 

With a resigned sigh, I step into the Bog. My feet sink into the freezing water, filling my boots with muck and sending chills up my legs. I can feel my skin tingle and burn as a thousand tiny organisms start to feast on my skin. 

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