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51

Drive (ongoing story) / Part 38: Grilled Medium-Rare

« Last post by Daen on February 24, 2023, 06:33:37 PM »

Char held up under the questioning as stoically as she could, given the circumstances. They wanted to know every single thing that had happened to her since the destruction of the Arbormass. Since before it, actually. Her revelation about Moss had frozen their roots for a second, but they'd thawed out and were digging deep again.

"As I said before," she responded patiently. "The messages I sent to my handler were necessarily brief and cryptic. If they had been intercepted, I would have been arrested and probably executed as a trejun spy. I had no means to tell Torlo about Moss. That's why he never included it in his reports to you!"

Like Moss, she was growing around the truth, but hopefully close enough to it. She'd been relieved when they'd disconnected him, but strangely, felt alone as well. She'd had no idea he felt that way. Or perhaps she hadn't let herself believe it. She'd had a mission to accomplish after all.

"So you took it upon yourself to save him?" Sanoro went on, though his sense was less severe than before. "How, exactly?"

"I discovered as a part of my Combustor experience, a substance that blunts flames. A liquid that I had been using for years to protect my own bark and roots. I coated him in it, or actually instructed one of his own qars to coat him. That way when the trejuns attacked, the flames scorched him, but he survived. I waited for them to report total destruction, and then came back to retrieve him."

"And then you took him to Grove Kulik, to present to your handler?"

"Not directly. I knew that with two of us, the cart would burn fuel more quickly, so I took us to the rock oil deposit outside Kulik first. There I mixed more fuel, and then finished the journey." Her thoughts fluttered at that, remembering the devastation. "Did anyone in Kulik make it out? I know the chances are slim, but I saw you have carts here. If they had some up there as well—”

"I'm sorry, Char," another person named Trem put in, her sense leaking sympathy. "We only started getting carts ourselves a week ago. Kulik is gone, along with anyone living there."

"I understand," she responded slowly. Torlo and the others had been like family to her. Distant cousins and uncles, maybe, but valuable all the same. They'd been her only connection to the sandkin, until she'd actually come here herself. That brought up another topic, though. "How did you get carts anyway? Or those rings surrounding each of you? The designs for those are only a few weeks old!"

"That's not your concern," Sanoro responded immediately. "Until we decide what level of threat you represent, you can't know any more about us than you do now."

For a second, all Char could do was process that. "Since when? I'm a sandkin citizen. Under sandkin law, I'm entitled to know all that the oasis knows. I'm one of you, for Core's sake!"

"Are you?" Sorfa put in. "You grew up in a Union grove. You bonded a Union citizen, in violation of your oath of secrecy! You didn't even have the decency to show shame at that, when we questioned you about it! Can you really say, Char, that you're one of us?"

"Of course I am! I may have been raised up there, but I am and always have been a sandkin! The first thing I did after the Arbormass was destroyed was try to make contact with my handler. When I found him dead, I risked everything on a near-suicidal trip into the Orja to find you! I could have died. I could have lost Moss!"

That last part had been unexpected, even to her, but she told herself it was part of her cover story. Regardless, she had proven herself. "If I'm not a sandkin to you by now, I never will be. And besides, you don't have the authority to restrict information from me, Asher or Elder. Your authority is simply based on the majority. If more than half of you want to, at any time, you can say so, and both of those titles will just vanish like water in the desert!"

Agitation leaked into the conversation from all corners, as sandkin started to speak out. Whether in favor of her argument or against it, she couldn't tell, but they were all cut off quickly. "Enough!" Trem put in, her confidence and surety acting as a bulwark against the budding hostility. "Char is correct. She may be a newcomer to Sharpcrag, but she knows our ways and our laws. We agreed long ago that none of us will have more than any other, and that includes secrets. That is the basis of what it means to be sandkin, and we cannot forget that, ever."

In any grove within the Union or Trejuna, people would have continued to disagree, loudly and angrily, despite Trem's statements. Unlike the sandkin, neither of them had a central ideology defining them. They were just people. Sandkin were people and equality, in every sense. Char and Moss' arrival may have shaken Sharpcrag's calm, but Trem had just reminded them that they were better than their neighbors to the north, or the potential enemies across the sea. They were sandkin, and that meant something.

Sorfa, Sanoro, and a few others leaked hostility, but they begrudgingly accepted the will of the majority. Trem waited until that was clear to everyone, and then continued in Sanoro's place. "Char, when you were just a seedling, we discovered that one of our oases was temperate enough to sustain qar queens and workers. We don't know why exactly, but something in the area around Evershell allows them to survive and breed successfully. Evershell has four queens right now, and about fifty thousand qar workers."

"That's amazing!" Char exclaimed. "I can't believe it. I thought the qar species was going to go extinct, but if these queens survived the trejun attacks, maybe they'll survive."

"Or maybe not," Trem said glumly. "We have no idea if four queens are enough to keep the qars going over the long term. It's possible that the Union kept a few alive as well. Regardless, it was enough to get the avalanche started as it were. They were stockpiling refined metal dug from the hills near Evershell for over two seasons, until you started sending your designs from the Arbormass. After that, they used the newly built carts, and articulator limbs, to spread these devices to nearly every oasis in the Orja! And you started it all. You, Moss, and the fallen heroes of the Arobormass."

So that was why the crowd had been split on her fate. Char had been confused why there wasn't universal anger against her, until this moment. "I just did as I was instructed."

"You did a little more than that," Trem said wryly, indicating the space were Moss had been, and the crowd sent out traces of amusement. "Still, don't underestimate what you've accomplished. For the first time in history, sandkin all over the Orja can actually manipulate their environment, the same way Evershell can. For the first time, sandkin have actually moved from one oasis to another! Your contributions have helped open up a whole new world for us, Char."

Appreciation washed over her from most of the group, overwhelming the continuing hostility from the few of them. Caught up in it for a moment, Char suddenly remembered the whole reason Moss had chosen to come.

She tried to collect her thoughts, as she paused. Moss might not appreciate her speaking to them on behalf of the Union, not without him being present, but she could at least make some inquiries. "It's been almost two weeks since the Arbormass was destroyed. We didn't use the Union interroot to avoid detection, so we don't know what's been happening up there. Have you gotten word from the Union, even after Grove Kulik was destroyed?"

Trem sent out an affirmative. "Kulik wasn't our only source of information—just the one closest to the front lines. Their Chancellor is still restricting public information, but our other operatives have told us the Union is holding the line for now. They don't have carts or articulator limbs, so they can't go on the offensive, but the fighting seems to have come to a stop for the moment. Either the trejuns are running out of combustible materials, or the juns themselves."

Char couldn't help but let out some relief at that. She might not approve of how the Union did things, and especially their Chancellor, but that didn't mean she wanted them all dead. "Moss will want to address the people of Sharpcrag, and hopefully the rest of the sandkin, as soon as possible."

"We figured as much," Sanoro put in. "If you two weren't bonded, I might assume he was using you to get to us. As it is, we still need to decide what to do with you, before we move on to him."

So much for laying the groundwork for a good conversation. Char hoped that when it was his time, Moss could do better.

52

New Releases / Drive part 37 added, 2/17/23

« Last post by Daen on February 17, 2023, 07:09:24 PM »

Drive part 37 added, 2/17/23

53

Drive (ongoing story) / Part 37: Under the Microscope

« Last post by Daen on February 17, 2023, 07:08:52 PM »

Two days later, after he'd been given a chance to recover and grow his new root, the two of them loaded up on the cart again and trundled south over the last ridge.

Char had connected to the sandkin's version of the interroot briefly, to let them know she was on the way. Moss had listened in, and could sense the surprise on the other end. Apparently they thought she'd been killed along with everyone else at that grove on the edge of the green lands. They bid her come immediately. She didn't mention that she was bringing company.

They had bonded the previous day, in true sandkin fashion. The process had been far more intimate than anything he'd experienced before, and was therefore terrifying. Still, he had agreed to do it. Not because it increased his chance at survival, but because it helped his people. If the sandkin killed him, he'd have no chance to plead with them on behalf of the Union.

Sandkin bonded each other by bonding minds, literally. They had grown roots into each others' central root clusters, attaching directly to the connection point that made up each treqar's mind. He had heard everything she was thinking and feeling for a few terrifying moments, and she'd heard the same from him. In retrospect, it was no wonder sandkin law treated bonded people as legally the same person. For a few seconds, he and she had been the same person!

Moss had been hesitant to test it out at first, but he had to admit she'd been right to insist. Experiencing… that for the first time, while under the scrutiny of her sandkin superiors, would have given them away instantly. At least now he knew what to expect.

Char directed the cart slowly, moving around the last change in elevation, while Moss pondered what had happened. His whole life he'd been alone, by choice. Hers, she'd been alone by necessity. The flood of memories and fears and hopes he'd experienced had passed through him so quickly, but he thought he'd spend the next fifty years working it out. And they'd have to do it again soon, she'd told him.

Her surprised emanation cut through his pondering, and he tried to focus his attention. "What is it?"

In response, she shared her senses, and he could suddenly see the north end of Sharpcrag. From what she'd told him about each 'oasis' in the desert, he had some idea of what to expect. Sandkin and treqars were the same species, but obviously grew differently because of their divergent climates. Because of the animals, sandkin branches were much higher off the ground, and their bark was much thinner so that they could bend more easily in the wind. But as they got closer, he could see what had surprised her so much.

Each and every person here had a strange metal harness wrapped around their trunk! Actually, it was more of a latticework of metal, surrounded by a shining ring. As he watched, some of them twisted, spinning the ring around. There was an articulator limb on each one!

"Core above!" Char whispered slowly, and Moss sent out some agreement. "I had no idea they'd come so far so fast. The images I've seen of this place didn't have any carts or articulators, or frames like that."

Belatedly, Moss noticed the carts she was talking about, moving off to the east and west. They were wheeled, just like theirs, but instead of having a person riding each one, seemed to be following some kind of line into the distance. What it was, he couldn't tell. She'd have to get closer.

Char came to a stop, as she apparently contemplated all this. "They must have started building the moment they got my reports on the wheels and combustion devices, and articulator limbs! Either that, or they were inventing these things on their own without telling me."

Moss sent out some disagreement. "No, I recognize that articulator configuration. It was one of Rax's designs. And that ring was theorized by Tobor. He figured that eventually, treqars would want a device that let them move an articulator limb up and around, to any position around the trunk, to deal with many situations. It was a genius idea he never had a chance to explore."

"Apparently they took his idea and expanded on it in a big way. Look how that ring spins, with the articulator on the end of it! And then it rises and lowers. It's like we're looking at a huge qar that can grab and move things far off the ground." Amazement filtered through her words. "What I don't get is how they built all this so quickly. I don't see any smelting or refining equipment, much less metal-shaping tools. These had to have been carted in, and installed by articulator-equipped sandkin from somewhere else."

"Why don't we just ask them?"

He meant the two carts that were rolling towards them, each carrying a youngish sandkin. Both came to a stop right in front of them, and Moss was just wondering how they'd communicate without qars to attach roots between them, when that question was answered for him. One of the articulator limbs mounted on the cart itself reached into the bed of it, and came back out holding something coiled. As it extended it towards Char, Moss got a better look at it. It looked like a communication root. At the same time, the second cart extended a similar line over to the first. Apparently they wanted all four people to be able to chat at the same time.

"Agent boli'smarthas'traan, I am Asher Sorfa, and this is Asher Akain," an authoritative male tone put into the new network as soon as it was created. Both of the new presences shone brightly to Moss, but Char seemed unimpressed. The name he'd said must be the one she'd been given as a seedling, back before she'd grown up to be a Combustor. Moss kept quiet, as he'd been instructed to. Despite his brief flood of sandkin information yesterday, he was still an idiot when it came to their full customs and behavior.

"Thank you for meeting with us, Ashers. Please, call me Char. It's the name I was known by for many years, and will make things easier during my debriefing," she said respectfully.

"We were expecting you to be traveling alone," he said pointedly, his interest focusing slightly on Moss instead.

"Yes, I know. This is belhiera'torkalm'oss, and he prefers to be known as Moss. The two of us are bonded."

That sent a shockwave of surprise rippling out from both of them, and Moss could sense a sudden interchange of communication between them, but he couldn't tell what they were saying. "This is highly irregular, Agent. May I assume this is the same belhiera'torkalm'oss who was working alongside you in the Arbormass?"

She sent out an assent, and they went into private communications instead. It went on for a short while, actually, and Moss decided to take that as a good sign. He had seen thunderers on the edge of the… grove? City? Oasis? Yeah, that last one was the right one, now that he could think back on the bonding. It was still so strange to know these things and not have experienced them himself!

Eventually the Ashers stopped, and Sorfa's tone became noticeably angrier. "Please follow us to the edge of the oasis, and root precisely where we indicate. Room will be made for your… bonded."

At that he broke the connection, and the articulator arm removed the connecting wire. And it was a wire, surrounded by insulation, that Moss could sense clearly now. It was exactly like the underground interroot communications used by the Union, but much, much more portable. How had they gotten it so fine? Ingenious!

Sorfa had phrased it like a request, but it was clearly an order. The thunderers on the edge of the oasis had swiveled to aim at Moss and Char, and tracked them as they moved. There were probably stormers inside as well, with enough firepower to blast their cart to bits if they tried to flee. As if that was even possible now—despite their days at the aquifer, the water tank was only half full. They'd never make it out of the desert without a full tank. They'd barely made it in with one!

At least the carts these people were using didn't look any more advanced than the one Char was controlling. She was right: they must have started building as soon as her reports reached them. All of this was new—there was no sign of wear or tear on any of the articulator rings or frames around the trees, nor on the carts themselves. In retrospect, Moss realized he might be able to leverage that over them! They owed him, in a way, for allowing them such freedom of movement and control over their environment.

"Listen, when they root us, they're going to connect us to Sharpcrag's interroot. We'll be visible to everyone living there. They'll expect us to be bonded, and they'll be able to tell if we aren't. I figured you'd want to know," Char said sharply, as they slowed down.

"Way to set the mood," he responded wryly, and she sent out a burst of irritation. But it was tinged with amusement.

They were both forcibly removed from their cart, stripping their water roots of external layers, and then plopped into holes outside the oasis. Naturally, his seemed much rougher than hers. They hadn't been expecting him after all. Moss braced himself as they attached one of his roots to her central cluster, and hers to his.

Just like the other day, suddenly his mind was twice as full! His awareness didn't change that much, because he was used to seeing through her senses, but his knowledge expanded dramatically. Every thought she had, as she had it, was his to see. And the same was true in reverse!

Char seemed to be handling it better than he was. She coolly presented herself to the assembled group—at least fifty people arrayed around them, all intent and listening. Sorfa was the first to speak, but he was clearly not the center of attention. "Agent Char, please explain how this outsider came to be brought before us."

She projected calm confidence into the group, but Moss could tell she was nervous underneath. Or was that his nervousness? He couldn't tell right now. "He's not an outsider anymore. When we bonded, he became aware of everything I know about the sandkin. He knows our ways and customs, and has the same respect for our people that I do."

"How could you have done this?" Sorfa demanded, his forced calm evaporating in the presence of obvious anger. "You know that secrecy has been our only defense for thousands of years, and yet you threw it all away on a whim! What could possibly have possessed you to do such a thing?"

The crowd sent out a conflicting murmur, but all seemed curious as to the answer. "I'm not sure if you've ever fallen in love, Asher Sorfa, but I believe you're familiar with the process," Char responded smoothly. "I made the decision to bond with him, and to bring him here, in accordance with sandkin tradition and law. If the oasis collectively decides to punish me for that, so be it. I will abide by that decision."

Moss had to admire her statements so far. She hadn't lied once, and implied that they'd been bonded for weeks now. The crowd had been so stunned by that, that they hadn't considered she might be misleading them.

Sorfa was about to respond, but another presence cut him off. "Enough, Asher. Your purview is limited to patrolling our perimeter and protecting us from threats, which you have done. You have no training as an interrogator or investigator."

Strangely, Sorfa immediately backed down, and the elderly male who had spoken came into sharper focus. He turned his attention to Moss. "I'm Elder Sanoro, Moss. Tell me, did you bond with Char willingly?"

It had been that or likely execution, but he had made the choice to come here, so… "yes, I did, Elder."

"And did you do so for love, as she has suggested?"

There it was. The Elder was asking straight-out, having seen through the shock of the news without much effort.

This was a foreign interroot, with an integrated society of people who'd known each other for decades. Moss couldn't risk lying to them outright, since he had no way of knowing if they could tell! "I… had an interest in her from the very moment we met, Elder," he answered carefully. "At first it was because she seemed so isolated and alone, but as time passed, I came to know her for who she truly is. Truthfully, the idea of bonding in the sandkin way terrified me at first, but it's an important part of her culture, and therefore part of mine." All true statements, if evasive.

"Do you love her?" The Elder insisted again, bluntly, and the crowd became even more still.

"I don't even know what love feels like!" Moss blurted out suddenly, sending out as much frustration and insecurity as he could manage. "Who knows exactly what that feels like? How many among you have thought you loved someone, and then found out that you didn't, or felt those impulses fade, or saw them change into someone else? How many of you have loved many, many people—so many that it seems to lose its value over time? Can any of you say for sure what love is, or what it feels like? I certainly can't!"

He didn't give them a chance to absorb that. "I don't know if I love her. I don't know if I even can love someone. But I can say, truthfully and openly, that I have never felt for anyone else what I feel for her, and I don't think I ever will. If that's not a good enough answer, then I don't know what is!"

There was another long moment of stillness in the group. Moss expected Sanoro to react angrily, or perhaps punish them on the spot, but instead he sent out a trace of respect. "Very well, Moss. We will deliberate on this, and debrief her. Under the circumstances, I have to insist that you disconnect both from Char and from Sharpcrag's network for the time being. If we deem her to be telling the truth as you have, then it seems we'll have a new legal precedent. Along with an oasis-full of new issues to discuss with you."

The nearest sandkin reached down with her articulator, to disconnect him. In the last seconds before the world went mostly dark again, Moss picked up a trace of gratitude from Char.

54

New Releases / Drive Part 36 added, 2/10/23

« Last post by Daen on February 10, 2023, 06:38:33 PM »

Drive Part 36 added, 2/10/23

55

Drive (ongoing story) / Part 36: Shotgun Wedding

« Last post by Daen on February 10, 2023, 06:37:05 PM »

"Moss. Moss! Wake up!"

Slowly, he came back to himself, from… wherever he'd been. The first thing he realized was that the tank was empty. Had been for a while, given how impaired he felt. It was a shame, too. He'd just started to like those new branches he'd been growing. "What is it?"

Strangely, he realized that he could communicate with her coherently. That shouldn't have been possible anymore. Somehow, he was hydrated! It wasn't much—just a trickle—but it was enough. "Wait, we're alive?"

"We're alive," she responded with a burst of relief. She didn't connect her senses to him right away, but waited for him to better allocate this water and get used to the new situation.

When he did connect to her senses, he could tell that they were still in the desert. Dunes stretched out all around them. Where was the water coming from, then? Wait, there it was. She was providing it, through her body, just like she'd threatened. And she was getting her supply from somewhere down below them. "Whoa, that's pretty weird," he admitted.

She didn't waste any time getting to an explanation. "This is what we call an aquifer. It's connected to the larger underground cavern filled with water. Sharpcrag is very close. Literally right beyond that ridge. My ancestors dug a shaft down here, to provide their communication roots with water. We're tapping into it for a while to recover. Or I am, anyway. You… might need a little more time."

"Yeah, I think you might be right about that," Moss conceded, reveling in the tiny trickle of water that was now keeping him alive. Still, he resolved to grow his own root down there as his first priority.

It was a good thing they'd stopped here. The Core was almost set again, Moss realized with some chagrin. He'd dropped off and left her all alone all day. So much for being a reliable companion.

They spent the night in slow conversation. Or more like communion, actually. Words weren't really necessary as he recovered. The phloem and cambium slowly absorbed the water, seeping new life into him over time. It was terrifying to realize just how close he'd come to the end. As usual, Char felt that terror, and sent out her own comfort to counter it. But then, she'd been nearly as close herself, and he felt her own fear as an echo.

Finally, partway into the next day, Moss switched back to words. "All right. I think I'm good now, at least until I can put down roots for real, into actual soil."

"Good, because now that we're not going to die of thirst, we have another problem," she said grimly.

Her attention was directed south, over the ridge towards Grove Sharpcrag. Or whatever they called their villages. Reluctantly, Char brought her attention back to him. "I've been racking my mind for days now about what to do with you if we did survive. My people are paranoid, like crazy levels of paranoid, even by Union standards. The only thing that's kept them united and alive for thousands of years was the fact that no one knew they existed. Or so they tell themselves. I don't know if it's true or not."

"And you told me about them."

"Exactly! It'll be a miracle if they don't girdle you on the spot!"

"Can you just leave me here, and go break the news to them to get them used to the idea first?"

Char sent out a negative. "It'd be the same result. There is no breaking this news gently. And I can't leave you out here without telling them, either. They'll find you eventually. I'm afraid I can think of only one way to increase your chances of survival. The two of us have to be bonded."

Moss had also been reviewing a bunch of possible options in his mind, but that hadn't been one of them. "Wait, what?"

"Bonding is extremely rare here, Moss!" She said urgently, almost desperately. "When two sandkin bond, they become legally indistinct. What one person does, both people face, in every way. When one of them is given an order, they both are!"

He tried not to envision his father's presence, telling him to bond someone already. "But you said you'd get into trouble just by bringing me here. How would us being bonded change that?"

"It might not. But I was ordered to join the Arbormass. I was ordered to help you all build defenses, and mobility devices. Then, when they thought the risk was too great, I was ordered to leave, and get to safety. If you and I had been legally bonded back then, my superiors ordering me to leave, would also be them ordering us to leave! Together."

"But we weren't bonded, Char. Then, or now."

"They don't know that! My reports to my superiors were limited to my work only. I could tell them that I bonded with you, and that I couldn't leave you behind. They'll be angry, but at least the law will be supporting me. It might be enough for them to spare you."

It sounded crazy, but it might just work. Or… "If they don't decide to just kill us both, you mean. I'm not a sandkin, either! Would they even recognize the bond?"

She let out some nervousness. "That is a risk. They'll want to know what I know either way. I can stretch out my debriefing; give them time to get used to the idea."

He couldn't lie to himself and say this wasn't something he'd thought about. Idly, in passing perhaps, but it had been considered. Moss wasn't sure he was ready to take on that responsibility, but given their sharply limited options, it seemed like had little choice.

"All right," he felt himself say, with a sense of detachment from reality. "How will we separate and attach the cuttings? The articulator limbs on this thing can't do that—I'm sure of that at least."

Bonding ceremonies had always involved an exchange between both parties. A permanent reminder that they were connected. In ancient times it had been passed by for survival reasons, but nowadays, it meant removing a part of yourself and giving it to your partner. Their cutting would then grow as a part of you, and as a symbol of the bond. But then, that was in areas which still had qars to actually do the cutting and attaching.

Char hesitated. "Sandkin bonding ceremonies are a little more… involved than the ones you're used to, actually."

56

New Releases / Drive Part 35 added, 2/3/23

« Last post by Daen on February 03, 2023, 07:46:37 PM »

Drive Part 35 added, 2/3/23

57

Drive (ongoing story) / Part 35: Stupid Self-sacrifice

« Last post by Daen on February 03, 2023, 07:45:46 PM »

Given her pampered, soft upbringing within the Union, Char had always thought of the Core as something to be welcomed. Every grove up there worshiped it devoutly, and even a skeptic like Moss seemed reverent of it. Now, Char was starting to feel more and more like her true people. The Core was their enemy.

It beat down on them, as she continued slowly through the Orja, maneuvering around the dunes, and trying as best she could to avoid moving into areas where the sand was too thin.

It was fascinating, in a morbid way. Enzyme texts she'd read while growing up had suggested the Orja's sand wasn't that deep. Perhaps the height of a single sandkin, or treqar, at most. That meant that if a seed did somehow make it down there to the clay and bedrock below, and miraculously had enough water, it could grow straight up through the sand and into the light.

Unfortunately, it also meant that if they stopped in the wrong spot, the cart's wheels would sink in, stranding them and leaving them to die of thirst.

It had been three days now since they'd left the green lands. Three days of stopping and starting, painstakingly choosing their next course at the edge of each dune. It was like they were driftwood, floating on a huge sea of sand. That was probably where Moss came up with his term 'navigate'. 'Nav' came from the sea; from the various animals that used deadwood to get around. She'd even heard of some animals that did the same in freshwater rivers.

He'd been amazing, really. Because of his damaged senses, he couldn't take over for her and direct the cart. Nor could he use her senses to 'navigate', since she'd have to be just as alert for that process. He did keep her company, though, telling her stories about his life in Grove Praksa. About his friends and rivals there. About his father. There was some obvious tension there, but he seemed to sense she didn't care. She would have given anything to have sap-kin where she was growing up. The letters from the sandkin were great, but from the word pictures he was painting, there was nothing quite like having family close by.

Again and again, Char caught herself monitoring their water tank. They had enough fuel to reach their destination and then some, but both she and Moss were draining the water supply at an alarming rate. Even after they'd discussed it, and put in a rationing system like the ones she'd read about, it still was disappearing fast.

That was the thing about rations. For animals like qars, they could take their portion and then leave. They didn't have to stick around and be tempted to take more. She and Moss had both grown a root down into the tank, and then thickened that root to seal it off and make sure the water didn't evaporate. They couldn't just take their ration and then look away to avoid temptation—it would always be there! Lucky little biters.

Infuriating as well, was their slow pace. In the green lands, they'd been able to move at least three times as fast, because they could follow known landmarks. After the Arbormass had been destroyed, Char had followed a river most of the way to that rock oil deposit. Here, there were no landmarks; not ones that stayed put anyway. As such, they could only know where they were going at certain times of day. When the Core was rising, they could feel its light from one direction, and move perpendicular to that. Same for when it was setting. But if it got too high, or after it had disappeared, they had to come to a stop!

As they continued south, animal life became scarcer and scarcer too. Those hooved creatures that had fascinated Moss so much had nothing to eat out here. Even the many-legged stinging insects had very few other insects to prey upon. They were entering the deep desert: a blasted, bark-dry expanse just as empty as the Void up above.

Fortunately they found a relatively stable stretch of sand, where the rock underneath must be much closer to the surface. Drained mentally and physically, Char rolled them to a stop on top of it, as the last of the Core's rays disappeared from her senses. Moss was about to launch into another story, this one about one of his father's exploits back in Praska, but she put a stop to it. "We should both go dormant for a few hours. I doubt there are any animals this far out that could be a threat to us. You'll probably recover first, so wake me before dawn, please."

He gave his assent, and she gratefully relaxed both the branches above and hanging below the cart. Her root controls too, loosened up and he took control as she released it. Trying not to think about how the water tank would most likely be empty by the next day, Char bid him goodnight.

Some time later, he did wake her as promised. Char could feel the warming of the air, in preparation for the Core's rising. Then she noticed something else, as she cringingly checked the water level. It wasn't empty after all!

Feeling encouraged, she almost missed the reason for that. Moss had curled his root inside the tube, cutting off his own supply. "Moss! What do you think you're doing?"

"It's pretty simple," he explained, apparently aware of her realization as soon as she made it. "We have to be close by now, but if we don't find Sharpcrag in the next day or so, we're both dead out here. You're already pretty dry, and if it gets any worse, you could lose your way and get us both killed. I'm just deadwood to you right now, so you're better off with double rations."

This was ridiculous. "Stop thinking with your bark first, idiot! We agreed to come out here together, and planned accordingly. I'm not just going to let you dry out entirely."

He let out some appreciation. "This is the best way. Besides, I figured I'm just a danger to you where you're going. If you reach Sharpcrag, you can claim you brought my remains along to be studied. That should answer any suspicions your people might have."

"You start uncurling that root right now. We're wasting Corelight!" Speaking of which, they had to get going. She could berate him and move the cart at the same time, and she used the radio's accumulator to start the ignition flame.

"No can do. Even in my current state, you can't force me."

"Yes, I can!" She insisted. "I'm still connected to you through this network. If necessary, I'll take the water through my body and force-feed you, like some kind of disobedient seedling! Do you really want me to do that? You know I will."

Horror crept into his sense for a second, and Char had the satisfaction of detecting his root slowly changing configuration. She had the decency not to gloat, but she did keep a careful watch on that root from that point on.

58

New Releases / Drive Part 34 added, 1/27/23

« Last post by Daen on January 27, 2023, 07:36:28 PM »

Drive Part 34 added, 1/27/23

59

Drive (ongoing story) / Part 34: Sight Beyond Sight

« Last post by Daen on January 27, 2023, 07:35:55 PM »

"Char. Char! Can you hear me?" Moss sent out several enzymatic prods in her direction. "Come on, snap out of it. I need you."

Vaguely, her aura changed from one of contented dormancy into something a little more alert. Then surprise and shock flitted out from her, and he had to hold back amusement. "What in the Void? Where are we?"

Her reaction was understandable. He'd seen the desert change gradually, and even he couldn't really comprehend it yet. "We're still in the Orja, headed south. We just left the mountain chain behind, though. I don't know where to go from here. Should we just stay here until the Core rises again?"

She pushed her awareness forward within the network, and he obligingly let her take control again. The cart slowed a bit. "Let me think."

He took the opportunity to redirect sap flow up to his branches, trying to warm his leaves. His bark was still mostly gone, and the temporary layer he'd grown was ill-suited to keeping him insulated. "How did it get so cold? I never expected that in a desert!"

"It's normal," she said angrily, turning the cart around. "Moisture traps heat in the air, but there is no moisture here. That means when the Core goes, so does the heat. I should have remembered this. We can't go on without a good sign of direction, so I'm taking us back to the rocks. We'll wait there until dawn, and then head south. If we're lucky, in a few days we'll get close enough to Sharpcrag to feel the change in the ground."

Sending out an agreement, Moss tried to be as unobtrusive as possible as she maneuvered them back off of the sand. He was still overwhelmed by how different everything had become. "It's like an entirely different world, isn't it? I mean if I hadn't been focused on steering, I might have gone dormant like you did!"

"Sorry about that." Chagrin leaked into the network. "I was focusing on keeping my leaves watered, and before I knew it I was out like a light. It was like I was in winter again!"

"I don't blame you. At least one of us should have been able to relax, and I'm glad you could. Besides, your dreams in dormancy were very relaxing too."

All feelings from her went dead silent for a moment. "You could see those?"

"Don't worry. I stayed far enough away to leave the details to you. I could feel your contentment, though. I never felt anything like that from you before. Is it that way every winter?" That question was laced with some bitterness. Moss never could remember his own dreams, and the few times he'd stayed linked to grove Praska during the cold season, no one had ever told him what they could feel from him. He would have liked to try dreaming in the Arbormass, and see what his friends had made of it. That too was a bitter thought. His friends and family were probably dead by now.

"All sandkin dream like that," she said softly, and miraculously a sense of empathy came from her for just a moment. It was probably too brief for her to have noticed, but he did. "I guess that's the difference between being a citizen of the Union and a sandkin. I never dreamed while linked to anyone from the Union. I was afraid my dreams might give me away, and it seems I was right."

Her thorny exterior was back up again, holding connection at bay and resisting any attempts at closeness with the threat of injury. Still, he had felt it, and she confirmed it came from her people. These enigmatic sandkin were getting more and more intriguing as a result.

They came to a stop again atop a flat stone wide enough for the whole cart. The flame that burned inside the motion machine flickered out, leaving them stationary again. He would have been worried, but Char had come up with a truly brilliant alternative to get it going again. Back at the Arbormass, the whole team had tossed around ideas about ignition, from having qars with flint and burnable plants, to bringing glass lenses to concentrate light and start a fire. It had been Char, unpredictably, who had convinced everyone that combustion wasn't actually necessary. They were using accumulators for the radio, she'd argued, and electricity could very easily start fires. As long as they were careful, they could just use the charge from the accumulators to spark the flame they needed to run the motion machine!

Of course they dared not use the radio itself now. For all they knew the trejuns were listening in. Still, they could use the power source to get moving again when the time came. Now that they were still, Moss tried to take in the surroundings, absorbing all the sounds, and tastes in the air. Unlike those poor limited qars and juns, his people could taste with their entire bodies, bringing impressions in from leagues and leagues away sometimes.

He sent out a burst of startlement, and could feel Char come alert in response. "What is it?"

He directed her attention to the creature on the rocks, just barely within his limited range. When she brought her own undamaged oscilli into the network, the range expanded dramatically, encompassing the intruder.

It was an animal. A mammal of some kind, from its fuzzy exterior. Four-limbed and staring at them with some intensity. As Moss marveled at it, the creature tensed its forward two limbs and sprang up into the rocky hill above them, hopping from position to position with powerful thrusts from its rear limbs. At the end of each limb was a hardened surface in a half-circle, probably to protect the animal from harm. Hooves, he recognized them after it was gone. He'd read about animals with hooves before.

"Incredible." Moss let out, after the creature had disappeared. "I've seen mammals before, sometimes even some big ones, but I've never seen one move like that! It was so natural for it—one moment here, and another gone!"

"I've heard about them," Char put in softly, and with some awe in her sense as well. "We call them gaats. They feed on grass which grows on the edge of the Orja, or possibly in those rocks up there. They're no threat to us normally, but lying down like this, I might have looked tempting to it. I loaded a thunderer, just in case."

Moss couldn't help but feel alarm. "You can't kill it! That would be such a waste of a beautiful animal."

"I wasn't planning on it. Gaats are skittish creatures, from what I've read. Just the noise would be enough to scare it away," she assured him, and Moss sent out some relief.

"What is that?" He exclaimed, as another creature burrowed out of the nearby sand and made its way slowly past them, up into the rocks as well.

"I think it's a skarpa," Char responded slowly. "See those big limbs in front? They carry a poison that the skarpa uses on other animals. They're solitary, from what I remember, and ill-suited to the cold. It's probably trying to find someplace warmer."

Memories of Grace and Strength and the others flooded through him, at the sight of the large insect. Moss felt a wave of despair, at the sight of them burning to death back at the Arbormass. Grace had given her life in service to him, just like the others, and he'd never really given any of them the credit they deserved. To him, all the qars had just been tools to be used and discarded—pets at the very best. Maybe he shouldn't have survived back there after all.

"Maybe you should enter dormancy," Char suggested gently, most likely picking up on his mood. "I'll keep watch for a few hours."

Moss sent out a negative. "I won't be able to. Too much has happened, Char! I don't know if my people are holding the line still, or dying en masse! I don't know if my father and friends are still alive! Even if we both make it to this Sharpcrag place, there might not be anything left back home to save!"

"We must stay hopeful regardless," she insisted. "Have faith in your nation's durability, Moss. In their unending and unrelenting drive to stay alive. It is a failing in peacetime, but in war it can be an asset. We gave them powerful tools to defend themselves, and in time, they will create carts like this one to get around. Don't despair just yet."

She was right, but he was having a hard time doing as she suggested. At least there were plenty of distractions here to keep him occupied. Again and again he queried her about various animals that came within range of her senses. She had no personal experience with any of them, but a lot of her letters from home had included descriptions, which she obligingly shared with him.

As the night wore on, the animals went into dormancy of their own, and fewer and fewer were evident. Moss focused instead on other questions. "These sandkin of yours… what do they know about the Great Freeze?"

Char sent out some confusion. "Everything you do, most likely. We hadn't heard about it at all until we found out about the Union itself. When we were able to access your history, we read about the Freeze and all the destruction it caused."

"Do your people have any idea how it started?"

She responded with a negative. "I doubt it. It happened so far up in your territory, in the mountains and nearby, that it didn't affect us at all." She paused. "Why are we talking about the Freeze of all things?"

Moss let out some bitterness. "My friend Noq, the one who died at the start of the war, theorized that the Freeze was caused by something falling out of the Void and hitting the ground."

He got a sense of patronizing patience from her. "I thought you Union types believed that the Void was just that: a great emptiness with nothing in it."

"Not all of us," Moss directed his attention up, first to the limit of his own senses, and then to the limit of hers. "I believe there are a great many things up there, not just the Core and nothing else. The Core is just the biggest, or maybe the nearest, of them."

"Isn't that heretical? You talk about the Core as if it's an object and not a person."

"Oh, it's definitely against the teachings of our faith, but I get the impression you don't believe either. The sandkin, from what little I know of them, sound a little more tolerant of this kind of thinking than my own people."

Char paused for a few moments, before sending out some agreement. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to tell you. Most sandkin do have faith in one thing or other, but as a whole, our society is very strict about using that faith in policy. For example, your Union outlaws growing towards Corelight on the eighth and forty-third day of every season, as a tribute towards the Core. My people wouldn't view that as superstition—some of us follow the Core as well—but we wouldn't follow that custom because it's based on faith and not the common good. In fact the custom itself would be illegal."

"I… see," Moss responded hesitantly. "What would the punishment be, if a sandkin were to ignore that law?"

Char seemed to think about that for a while. "In the ancient past, it was very harsh, even going as far as execution. Now that we aren't always on the edge of dying off entirely, the sandkin would be more lenient. The offender's growth rate would be curtailed, probably. He would have less room in which to grow, so that the others would have more. If he kept up on breaking the law, though, they might vote to respond the way our ancestors did."

It sounded barbaric at first, Moss thought. In the Union, executions were reserved only for the very worst crimes, such as treason. Still, the Union had plentiful water and soil. These people had never had much of either. They'd been on a wheel's edge of survival for hundreds if not thousands of years! It made sense that their code of justice was similarly strict.

His attention wandered back to the sky. "Anyway, Noq and I surmised that there's more up there than just the Core, and that… thing that hit us and started the Great Freeze. He thought there were at least three other Cores of sorts, all too small or too fast-moving for us to be aware of. Large animals like that gaat might be able to see them, but we certainly can't."

Her attention focused, and she let out a faint stream of interest. "What made him say that?"

"Observation of animal behavior, mostly. He had a lot of help, from his contemporaries across the Union. They gathered notes on animal behavior every night for centuries on end. He noticed that every thirty-five days, certain kinds of animals behaved more recklessly. The various groves noted that injuries among some of the running and climbing species jumped during that time, and then went back down once it had passed. Not enough for the average treqar to notice, but with enough people gathering evidence and sharing it, it seems pretty conclusive." Moss couldn't help but let some smugness seep into his words. He'd been part of gathering that information—recruited by Noq himself!

For her own part, Char seemed amused. "So there's some kind of spirit of mischief up there, causing those poor animals to act crazed two or three times a season?"

"Funny, but no. Noq seemed to think that these other Cores send out light the same way the Core does, but of lesser intensity. Too faint for us to feel, but strong enough for animals to pick up. Strong enough even for the ocean to feel. Our friends on the waterfront sent a lot of data about the sea water rising and lowering, that seemed to have nothing to do with the rising and setting of the Core. You know, before they were incinerated," he added bitterly.

"Interesting," she said, ignoring his brief aside of anger and grief. "There is a sandkin grove on the western shore, as I said, but they're more focused on survival than gathering information about water levels. Or they were, centuries ago. Nowadays, they might want to talk to you about what you've learned."

"Me?" Moss put out, surprised. "I'm just a builder. All I did was help gather data."

She sent out an image of a shrub, which was synonymous with indifference. "Noq and the others are all dead now, right? Who else could honor their memory like you?"

Moss didn't know what to say to that. "I… guess I could tell them what I remember about the studies. Noq's friends called the movements of the oceans 'tid', with each one rising and falling multiple times a season."

"Something to think about, anyway," Char said noncommittally.

He let the silence linger after that exchange, doing as she said. Maybe there was more to be gained, if they reached sandkin territory safely, than just a military alliance against the trejuns.

60

New Releases / Drive Part 33 added, 1/20/23

« Last post by Daen on January 20, 2023, 12:49:00 AM »

Drive Part 33 added, 1/20/23