“This is our leader, Aether.”
Unhkte turned to Aether. “Eether… is that so? This is enticing and disturbing name. Come inside. We have much to discuss.”
Through empty halls and busy arcades they walked as Unhkte recounted the events of two nights ago. A single Setkee and guard followed behind, but without weapons.
“It was clear to me that your people were as surprised and upset as we…”
TOM: I looked it up. “Eether” is their word for “the layer of mucus that forms outside the egg cavity at the beginning of a reproductive cycle.” That’s the stuff we thought might be the vessel for genetic conjugation, along with mud. If you were wondering.
AETHER: That’s great. “Enticing and disturbing” indeed.
Unhkte spoke constantly as they walked. “… convinced the Council that our people’s future interrelations would best be conducted by the Thinkers, who, I note, are tense and delighted in anticipation…”
Aether was growing concerned with how deep into the city they were walking, now having traversed a bridge and climbed three tiers. She’d hoped to step inside the gate, sit down, and talk—the exit and skimmer within reach if demanded.
“Apologies, Dowfwoss Unhkte, but could we stop somewhere nearby and begin our talk? We wished to address three important subjects.”
“Of course,” Unhkte said without a break in stride. “Our chamber is just this way.”
They rounded a columned corner and were struck with an awe-inspiring view.
TOM: We’ve never seen this. Not even in the maps.
Like some warped Roman hypostyle, enormous stone columns stood like ancient redwoods. Arranged in two curved, parenthetical rows, they jutted straight up from gray bedrock, and, at their tops, held a single afvrik shell as roof. The builders had cut a circular skylight into the shell center, evoking some impossibly huge Threck endoshell. Outside of the enormous columns, still-impressive rows of standard Threck pillars lined the room’s outer edges, large canvas panels stretched out between them as walls, with archetypal historical murals painted on their inward facing surfaces.
Following Unhkte between the oversized columns, Aether noted the cuboid plinths between each—pedestals for various artifacts. The bonded skeleton of an intimidating, dolphin-sized fish; a petrified, bisected fungus trunk with bored-out tunnels, as if from termites; a giant flatworm, two meters long and hanging from a frame, its underside sliced with an X and pinned open, exposing internals. It appeared to be coated with some shiny preservative.
And then, the preeminent treasure of the collection, suspended by several lines between the last pair of columns: an immense Hynka skeleton. Like a dinosaur museum exhibit, the beast had been reassembled and posed as if frozen mid-attack—long, crocodilian jaw open just enough to show off its inner rows of teeth, thick arm bones stretching out before it as if some juicy prey floated a hair’s length out of reach.
Aether stopped in front of it, daunted by the thought of her loved ones in a land swarming with these killing machines.
“Hard-fought prize from distant land,” Unhkte said.
Aether snapped out of her daze and saw Tom and the others waiting for her. She replied, “Hynka Country, correct?”
“Have you been there?” Unhkte asked.
“Not me, but some of my people are trapped there as we speak. It’s one of the subjects we wish to discuss.”
Unhkte stepped to the skeleton and ran her palm down the star-shaped kneecap. “If they are not floating in the sky on one of your cloud things, your people are undoubtedly dead. We lost seventy Threck before capturing this one.”
“We have some unique survival skills,” Aether said. “How did you catch it?”
“Food trap, set near beach. After several failures—too many for this mere prize, I say—they attached immense rope chain to submerged afvrik, placed captured prey animals in middle of netted circle, and waited. They didn’t wait long. Many came bursting from the jungle, and the afvrik was ordered to swim out to open sea. This one was not caught, so much as it refused to let food escape. It clung to the retreating rope, dragging through crashing waves, all the time tearing at the net, stuffing freed rodents under mouth, in neck space, to hold. Even as it plunged deeper and deeper, it refused to forfeit its meal. Finally, it filled with water and died. The joyous Threck towed the thing all the way back across the sea, fending off attacks from sea predators that wished to steal the hard-earned prize. Upon their return, Eshkowoss Peekt ordered it studied, then to be displayed in this way, with the other unique creatures our people have found. Our founder, and subsequently we, believe there are groups of related animals. This worm, for instance, shares nearly every internal—”
Baffled, Tom cut in. “Eshkowoss Peekt? The very first Threck?”
“Yes, the first.”
Tom continued. “How long ago was this?”
“Not so long…” Unhkte considered, and turned to one of the other Threck with them. “Were you Setkee then?”
The Threck signed recollection. “Soon after. In my second wind.”
Unhkte calculated, “Approximately eighty-eight years.”
Tom shared a stunned look with Aether. “Eshkowoss Peekt was still alive eighty-eight years ago?”
“And today,” a new voice spoke nearby, thick and husky. “To disdain of learned colleagues.”
Aether spun round to see a pair of deep purple curtains, hanging from roof height, and parted at the bottom. Between them, two Threck stood holding between them a sort of litter, and spread across its wide surface lay a dark, bloated Threck—Eshkowoss Peekt.
Unhkte sprang forth with previously unseen vitality, striding across the room to the curtains. “You came! Will you remain? We can have your bath brought at once.”
“No, no, stop. Let visitors come close. Certainly day stubborn body awaited. Bring. Heard only wondrous voice uttering words created.”
Livetrans was struggling with the elderly Threck’s speech.
“Yes,” Unhkte said with cheer. “Your words.”
Already walking from the Hynka display, Aether and Tom marveled at the giant Threck spread across the litter’s flat platform.
TOM: This makes no sense. This is supposed to be the first Threck.
AETHER: Maybe like a reincarnated pharaoh? Someone new inherits the title and name after the previous one dies? In their case, what if the original parasite is actually transferred to a new host body?
TOM: That’s actually not a bad theory. Let’s see.
Unhkte gestured to a spot directly in front of the city’s supposed founder and Aether and Tom stepped up, shoulder to shoulder. The aged Threck’s wide eyes were marbled spheres of creamy yellow and brown, with hundreds of splintering cracks across the surface, like shattered glass.
“Smell,” Eshkowoss Peekt said, one meaty club rising feebly to gesture. “Can touch?”
She’d lost the ability to sign, thus the stunted translations. This was how Livetrans speech would come across to the Threck if Aether omitted gestures.
Unhkte turned to them, affecting a more formal speech. “Syons People, Aether and Tom, you are standing before the parent of all Threck, Eshkowoss Peekt, who has exhausted the sense of sight. Would physical touch examination be acceptable?”