30. Once More, With Feeling (Patreon)

"Right here! Right down here!"

The Sthrenslians scuttle after me as I shoot down the hallway to where I left their dying kin. Or at least, he looks like he's dying, but I really have no idea. I'm certainly no Sthrenslian doctor; even if I have basically all of the biological knowledge about them it doesn't give me any experience healing them. Just… creating more.

"He's covered in acid burns!" I inform them. "He was nabbed up by something inaudible up until the point it grabbed him, and—"

Immediately, the three of them stop in their tracks.

"A ghost trap?" one of them says fearfully. “We're in ghost trap territory?"

I pause, thinking rapidly. Shit, I guess Sthrenslians would be really terrified of these things, wouldn't they? Invisible ambush predators... yeah, that's something I would try to avoid as much as possible.

"I will fly ahead first!" I announce. "Follow behind me! If there are any more, I'll get grabbed before you! Hurry!"

I rush off again, and to my relief they follow after a brief hesitation. Soon, the injured Sthrenslian is in echolocation range and the other Sthrenslians run right up to him, ignoring the feast so many of myself are indulging in behind me. I suppose they have no objections to a dead ghost trap, no matter the source.

"Warrior Katrk!" one exclaims. "Gods, he's still breathing! Help me carry him!"

He's not talking to me, I assume, as all the Sthrenslians quickly gather around the injured guy—Katrk, I guess—and lift him up, scuttling away at speed. I follow them with one body, leaving the others to continue eating a good meal.

And it is, to be clear, a wonderful meal. Even as the panic of a person's uncertain fate fills the tunnel, so much more of my body explodes in the ecstasy of delicacy, incredible knowledge filling me as well as incredible improvements, revolutions. This is one of the most complex and incredible feats of evolution I have ever had the pleasure to consume.

The ghost trap evolved in total darkness, to wait in ambush and devour prey. Prey that was wary beyond belief, that had such precision of senses and sharpness of mind that what could possibly hope to ambush in? By the time Sthrenslians get close enough to ambush they can hear a heartbeat, they can smell even a single breath.

So this creature evolved to sound like an empty tunnel and smell like nothing at all. When its body inflates to block the entire tunnel, it seals the walls with two mirrored patches of stretchy epidermis that can both detect and project sound. These inflatable balloon-like organs not only hear every vibration they come into contact with but mirror it on the opposite side of the creature. The ghost trap can produce inverse sound waves to cancel out repeat noises as it perfectly fakes the natural effects of echolocation. It's impossibly brilliant.

It doesn't even stop there! Powerful pheromones replicate the smell of its surroundings, an unmatched level of chemical crypsis that prevents it from so much as leaving a scent. Then, its two inflatable drum-organs coat themselves with a sticky glue-like substance, so when another creature makes contact it traps them, closes its body up, and then fills the epidermis with acid. During this digestion phase, it's completely vulnerable to attack from outside and it can no longer use its other advantages, which is a bit of a design flaw but evolution is rarely perfect.

And what does it matter, when I can make it better?

"You're going to be okay! You're going to be okay, just stay awake, all right?"

Oh shit, that's right. I'm sort of here to help make sure the person doesn't die. We've been rushing down a tunnel, and with me too small to help carry Katrk I've been taking directions, flying ahead, and using my face to ensure that no one else gets caught in a ghost trap. The tunnels all sort of blur together after a while, though, and before long I detect a much larger cave with Sthrenslians inside. Most of them, therefore, also detect me.

"Hey!" I shout. "We need a healer!"

Shortly afterwards, the injured Sthrenslian in question also gets noticed and to my relief things start to fall into place from then on. I get a lot of confused attention, but the people here at least seem to have their priorities straight and immediately make way for the injured, leaving my mystery alone for now.

They don't stop me from entering the cave proper, though everyone seems to get immediately more wary when I do. Compared to the home of the True People, this cave is barely a fraction of the size and nowhere near as beautiful. If the True People's cave was a sprawling urban art project turned living area, this cave is more of a struggling village, where everyone seems so tired and busy that most of them don't even give enough of a shit to stop doing whatever they had been doing before even though they are currently making first contact with another sapient race. A few people are making significant note of me and I'm pretty sure one of them ran off to grab whoever is in charge, but I carefully stick to floating above the people with the injured Sthrenslian and not trying to get close enough to touch anything, and that seems to be good enough for now.

We finally meet up with someone named Healer Katrs who takes Warrior Katrk into his little healer-cubby or whatever the small homes dug out of the cave walls are called. Katrs, Katrk... geez, I can see why these people append titles to their name. It would take me years to tell them all apart otherwise.

"Scout Klsrenthisah," a voice intones from behind me, one that according to Hsthressis's instincts is likely quite old, "what have you found here?"

"Chieftain!" responds the guy that had been doing most of the talking with me. "This… creature called for help in our language and led us to where other members of its kind seemed to have freed Warrior Katrk from a ghost trap. It then led the way so that we could return him with speed."

"Is that so?" the chieftain hums. "Can you speak, creature?"

I nod my head, turning to face him even though that doesn't seem to mean much in Sthrenslian culture. He does seem like a pretty old guy, if the cracked chitin his body and slow, shaky movements are anything to go by.

"I can," I confirm, my heart pounding. This is it, Evelyn. The second chance you don't deserve. "I am Evelyn. I sincerely hope that Kat— er, Warrior Katrk will be okay."

"Time will tell, but by my scout's accounting your actions will have been instrumental in his recovery, if so. I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Ethalyn. Never before in all my years have I seen something quite like you."

"I… we... um, I mean, my people are from very far away," I blabber. "I only just met your own kind a few days ago."

"I see," the chieftain answers amicably. "So then, what is it that brings you so far from your own home, Ethalyn?"

"I… circumstances outside my control, I suppose. I very much wish I could be home, Chieftain, but that is currently impossible. As such, I am searching for somewhere new to live, and ideally people that I could live with."

Shit, shit was that too forward? I think that wasn't terrible, right? I probably haven't even said any blasphemy yet, which would be pretty great if so.

"I am grateful to you for your assistance, Ethalyn, but fear the Resonant Gems may have little to offer you," he said sadly, and I to it that 'Resonant Gems' is the name of his clan in the same way that 'True People' is the name of Hsthressis'. In which case… I think that's good! This really is a second chance! You know, assuming that wasn't just his culture's way of saying 'fuck off' like it is in some of mine.

"I'm not sure I see it that way," I say as diplomatically as I can. Which means I am doping my brain a little, but I can panic about that later. "My journey here has been lonely, dangerous, and exhausting, both physically and mentally. Just a simple bit of friendly conversation is more valuable to me than you can know."

His posture shifts a bit at that, though I can't even attempt to understand the subtleties without plumbing a brain I'm trying to leave alone. I need to figure out a way around that. Still, the tone of his voice seems more understanding when he speaks.

"Ethalyn, there was a time I would be overjoyed to throw a feast in friendly celebration and regale you with words until exhaustion claims us both. But the honest truth is that I and my people have fallen on difficult times. We have little to trade with, and less to thank you with. I dearly wish I could invite you to stay, but I cannot so much as offer you a meal."

Oh. Oh. Now I understand what I'm seeing. The Sthrenslians here are hungry, and they're working themselves to the bone so that doesn't devolve into starvation. As I watch I can see the signs of it now, though it doesn't look like how I imagine an ancient starving city to appear at first glance. No Sthrenslians are lying in heaps on the street, wasting away. What feels like a group of children are playing together, laughing hissy Sthrenslian laughs at the edges of my senses, despite the dire straits. Things are not at a crisis level here, but I see the spots where that tipping point is starting to teeter. Workers bring carts of food into a central storehouse that is guarded by warriors, not owned by individuals, and the predominant mood around it is avarice. People move slowly, exhausted in ways far more complete than that of the laborers I saw in the True People city. They aren't starving yet, but they are rationing, and the rations are growing thin.

Which leaves me a decision to make, and it's without question the easiest one I've had since I got to this damn planet.

"I don't need a feast, sir," I said, devoting nearly half my not-inconsiderable brainpower to planning each word of the sentence before it drops out of my stupid mouth. "If I did, or if you wish for one, I can provide the food myself. I have a surplus of both food and labor, and I can think of no greater use for them than to share with friendly strangers."

People don't stop working, don't stop moving, don't stop the habits that have been formed deep into their exoskeletons by hardship. But the cavern still seems to grow imperceptibly quieter, as the weight of attention on me grows from frightening curiosity to suspicion and hope.

"…Forgive me, but I find myself struggling to respond to such a generous offer," the chieftain of the Resident Gems answers after a short pause. "Stranger from a strange land, if your words are true it is clear that you walk warmly in the embrace of Sss. But I fear I have nothing to offer you in return."

I smile, slowly descending to the ground in front of the Chieftain.

"That's not true," I protest. "You offer me something to do other than just survive from one day to the next. You offer me a worthy purpose, and I think, right now, that is the gift I need most."

During the stunned silence that follows, I catalogue my capability to actually make good on such a promise. I estimate that the Resident Gems probably have close to a hundred people in their village, although for all I know there are enormous extra caverns just outside my echolocation reach. And that sounds like a lot of people, but honestly? It's not really. Sthrenslians are very tiny, and Evelyn Experimental alone probably outweighs everyone in this village combined by a factor of five. Of course, EE eats a fuckton, so that's hardly an inconsiderable amount to share, but it's doable. You know, assuming these people are interested in eating a diet exclusively of demons.

...But that should be fine, right? I mean, the True People fucking ate me. Killing and eating demons is probably pretty normal. I should ask, but I really don't want to. And while I can make myself ask anyway…

"You are altering your brain chemicals more than you promised yourself that you would," Mr. Mooshi reminds me. "You said that you would deliberate for at least a few days before making changes, but you did this in the spur of the moment."

"Yeah, and it worked," I say.

"Which is the opposite of a good argument for abandoning a reasonable Schelling fence."

...Shit, Mr. Mooshi is right. I peel back the concoction of anti-anxiety chemicals in my brain and immediately feel panic start to set in. But you know what? That's okay. I'm probably past the difficult hurdles, and I've struggled with this bullshit my whole life. The old Evelyn can take it from here.

"Apologies, but I'm afraid I never asked," the chieftain says. "What is the name of your people? Your clan?"

I blink. Oh, shit, I mean… I'm good at names, right?

"Evelyn," I say.

Fuck.

"Oh, my apologies," he says. "So then, may I ask your name?"

"I… It's Evelyn."

"Ethalyn... of Clan Ethalyn?"

"Y-yes," my stupid mouth says.

Ugh, it's close enough, anyway. All Sthrenslians actually pronounce my name as 'Ethalyn,' but for some reason it's more noticeable when Hsthressis isn't also in the room listening with me. I'm not going to try to dig into why. Fuck it, I'm just going to go back to mentally correcting them from now on. It's not their fault they don't have lips.

"Well, Evelyn of Clan Evelyn, I think the two of us should discuss this in more detail," the chieftain says. "If that would be acceptable?"

"O-of course!" I stammer. "Well, um... while we talk, would it be okay if I start transporting some food? I live a few hours from here… oh, er, that's a unit of time. I don't actually have any idea how you measure time, but it's, uh... a while?"

His tendrils curl into a Sthrenslian smile.

"That sounds lovely," he says.

"Great," I say. "In the meantime, I think my people will find a way to clear your tunnel of ghost traps."

"Ah, yes... the ghost traps. Are you sure? What you propose is an incredibly dangerous endeavor."

Acid burns on one of my hands and many of my faces slowly start to recover themselves as my body's rapid regeneration kicks into gear with the help of all the meat I got from killing the two ghost traps I encountered so far. Their acid hurts, certainly, but it's no sloth acid and I'm making sure to regrow the damaged parts with what I believe should be slightly more acid-resilient chitin compounds. Now that I know everything there is to know about these creatures, the solution for dealing with them seems rather obvious. I can see them, for starters, as none of their crypsis applies to sight. From there I just have to poke them with a big stick or hurl a large enough rock into their mouth that they clamp down on it by instinct, at which point I can beat the shit out of them with impunity. I now know exactly where to bite in order to deal the most damage without getting a face full of acid in response, as well.

"They aren't terribly dangerous to me," I tell him. "Nothing is, more than once."