to Laura.
Allan goes back a ways then turns around another stone. It, too, is a dead end. As he turns, his eyes catch a glimpse of something flickering behind a smoky crystal that towers high into the sky. Allan rolls closer, realizing the dead end isn’t a dead end but an illusion. The reflective stones mask a large, dark tunnel. He sees the flicker in the dark again and nudges his chair closer. The flicker might be a light, possibly from a torch.
Allan pulls out his headlamp and straps it on his forehead. The light illuminates a rough-cut stairway that leads down.
Allan can’t turn back. Where there is light, there is hope. Where there are stairs and tunnels, there are intelligent beings. If he gets stuck or lost? He’s got the remaining Hubbu flowers in his pack. They should take him back home.
Allan pulls a lever on the side of his chair, extending the small back tracks to the ground.
Allan puts on his fingerless gloves, cracks his knuckles, and grips his wheels. He leans back in the chair. “Now or never,” he mumbles and rolls down the first step. Thankfully, the step is wide and the stairway not terribly steep. Dark stones line the stairwell and reflect his headlight beam like a hall of mirrors.
Allan bumps down the next step, and the next one. He descends into the tunnel and stops at what created the light. It’s a glowing stone. When Mizzi had built Allan’s mechanical legs back on Lan Darr, he’d used a stone that had some kind of power in it. It looked like the same strange stone. Same color, same energetic interior surrounded by foggy crystal. Allan thinks about pocketing the light so Mizzi can make him another pair of mechanical legs, but doesn’t. That would be stealing from whoever built these stairs and would not be a good first impression to make. “I come in peace, just ignore how I just stole your energy crystals,” Allan mutters with a smile. Maybe they’ll give him one as a gift. It could be a third souvenir and more of a convincing one.
Allan continues down the stairway as it descends deeper and deeper. He passes more glowing stones. The tunnel around him opens up to a cavern so huge the light doesn’t reach the other side.
The stairway continues from the cave wall and over brick archways that disappear into the darkness. Allan rolls to the edge of a platform and peers into the void. He hears noise. A ticking and a bang echo around like hypersonic ping-pong balls. Something breathes heavily near him; oh, it’s his own breath. His eyes water, forcing him to furiously blink. Be brave.
Allan looks back the way he came. Now is the time to turn back, if there ever is a time. He wants to go back, and the thought sits on his frontal cortex like a bully. The gloominess of the space is so threatening it could be his hollowed grave. A shadow moves, or he thinks it moves. Another sound disturbs the darkness. Is it cackling? Like a witch’s laugh? Or is it some kind of clapping? Maybe it’s the snapping of bones as some gargantuan creature devours its victim. The stale air tightens Allan’s lung passageways, and a full-fledged panic attack is about to envelop him. He wishes he’d brought a broadsword or a Taser or his pellet gun.
“Hello?” Allan calls out. The sound and echo of his own voice releases the tension building in his brain. “I come in peace.”
The answer to his statement is only a much softer echo of his voice, “I come in peace… come in peace… in peace.”
Allan listens. There is no further sound. If Lan Darr taught him anything, it was that he can handle a lot of pressure and push through the fear. He can choose to think how dangerous this place must be, because it is dark and shadowy, or he can think it is mysterious and worthy of discovery. He can sit here and panic, or man up. He can live an adventure or die trying.
Allan rolls to the stairs that continue over the deep and dark cavern. He shines his headlight on the stairs. It’s not as bright as
Allan goes back a ways then turns around another stone. It, too, is a dead end. As he turns, his eyes catch a glimpse of something flickering behind a smoky crystal that towers high into the sky. Allan rolls closer, realizing the dead end isn’t a dead end but an illusion. The reflective stones mask a large, dark tunnel. He sees the flicker in the dark again and nudges his chair closer. The flicker might be a light, possibly from a torch.
Allan pulls out his headlamp and straps it on his forehead. The light illuminates a rough-cut stairway that leads down.
Allan can’t turn back. Where there is light, there is hope. Where there are stairs and tunnels, there are intelligent beings. If he gets stuck or lost? He’s got the remaining Hubbu flowers in his pack. They should take him back home.
Allan pulls a lever on the side of his chair, extending the small back tracks to the ground.
Allan puts on his fingerless gloves, cracks his knuckles, and grips his wheels. He leans back in the chair. “Now or never,” he mumbles and rolls down the first step. Thankfully, the step is wide and the stairway not terribly steep. Dark stones line the stairwell and reflect his headlight beam like a hall of mirrors.
Allan bumps down the next step, and the next one. He descends into the tunnel and stops at what created the light. It’s a glowing stone. When Mizzi had built Allan’s mechanical legs back on Lan Darr, he’d used a stone that had some kind of power in it. It looked like the same strange stone. Same color, same energetic interior surrounded by foggy crystal. Allan thinks about pocketing the light so Mizzi can make him another pair of mechanical legs, but doesn’t. That would be stealing from whoever built these stairs and would not be a good first impression to make. “I come in peace, just ignore how I just stole your energy crystals,” Allan mutters with a smile. Maybe they’ll give him one as a gift. It could be a third souvenir and more of a convincing one.
Allan continues down the stairway as it descends deeper and deeper. He passes more glowing stones. The tunnel around him opens up to a cavern so huge the light doesn’t reach the other side.
The stairway continues from the cave wall and over brick archways that disappear into the darkness. Allan rolls to the edge of a platform and peers into the void. He hears noise. A ticking and a bang echo around like hypersonic ping-pong balls. Something breathes heavily near him; oh, it’s his own breath. His eyes water, forcing him to furiously blink. Be brave.
Allan looks back the way he came. Now is the time to turn back, if there ever is a time. He wants to go back, and the thought sits on his frontal cortex like a bully. The gloominess of the space is so threatening it could be his hollowed grave. A shadow moves, or he thinks it moves. Another sound disturbs the darkness. Is it cackling? Like a witch’s laugh? Or is it some kind of clapping? Maybe it’s the snapping of bones as some gargantuan creature devours its victim. The stale air tightens Allan’s lung passageways, and a full-fledged panic attack is about to envelop him. He wishes he’d brought a broadsword or a Taser or his pellet gun.
“Hello?” Allan calls out. The sound and echo of his own voice releases the tension building in his brain. “I come in peace.”
The answer to his statement is only a much softer echo of his voice, “I come in peace… come in peace… in peace.”
Allan listens. There is no further sound. If Lan Darr taught him anything, it was that he can handle a lot of pressure and push through the fear. He can choose to think how dangerous this place must be, because it is dark and shadowy, or he can think it is mysterious and worthy of discovery. He can sit here and panic, or man up. He can live an adventure or die trying.
Allan rolls to the stairs that continue over the deep and dark cavern. He shines his headlight on the stairs. It’s not as bright as
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