Nightfall was approaching by the time they reached the outskirts of the village. Wolff had insisted they approach from the forest rather than the main road to avoid contact with the humanoids. Wolff also, after scouting the area, selected their vantage point, one that offered a wider view, including the bulk of the village, the obelisk, and the end point for the “marathon,” when it re-entered the village, arguing that there were multiple routes of escape should it become necessary.
“It reminds me of the Springtide Marathon on Thurin,” Jaysn said, gesturing to the crowd of villagers who had assembled to cheer on a small group of arriving runners.
Clarc was dubious. “Seriously? I don’t see you as the type to run a marathon.”
“I didn’t run it,” Jaysn said matter-of-factly. “I was in the crowd near the finish line many times, however. Where else can you see that many people in one place, wishing nothing but to celebrate and wish goodwill to others? As sporting events go, it’s one of the rare events where you can cheer on absolutely everyone, not just your own team.”
“That is such a ‘you’ way to view it,” Clarc almost laughed.
Jaysn held up a finger. “It’s particularly significant here, though, isn’t it?”
Clarc looked at him, confused.
Tamana nodded, understanding immediately. “The huts. They’re all practically identical. And the villagers don’t wear clothing, makeup, or jewelry. So how do they distinguish themselves? Who is their leader, and how do they recognize him?”
Clarc shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe the leader isn’t even here. Maybe he’s in a different village.”
“Who dictates that they go on this marathon, then? Who created that rule? Who enforces it if someone refuses to participate?”
“In our experience, the combined population of the village does,” Wolff scoffed.
Clarc shushed them as the sound of grunts and footsteps could be faintly heard from the trees to their right. Moments later, a group of three humanoids emerged on the trail, beating their chests and braying. “This is the last stage of it. They are returning from the city and the caves,” she whispered.
As before, villagers gathered on both sides of the path, beating their chests and grunting in unison with the returning runners. The chanting grew louder as the three passed the bonfire and reached the obelisk. The village fell silent as the first to arrive stopped, turned his back to the obelisk, and wailed at the sky. The crowd followed suit, then fell silent, watching the lone runner, not with sadness or joy, merely with expectation.
Again, the humanoid turned, stretched out his hands, and placed them on the obelisk.
Again, there was a surge of noise, the smell of ozone, and a bolt of blue lightning striking down from the silver rectangle cloud that hovered motionless over the valley.
Again, there were the infernal shrieks of agony and terror, and the violent flailing of another humanoid dissolving into a cloud of black dust motes that slowly drifted to the wall, eventually settling to form another brick.
Tamana was visibly shaken. “That’s not a ritual or a rite of passage. That’s compulsion. They hear the screams and see the agony, but they voluntarily follow suit. There’s no common sense in it. Even if it were religious in nature, they had to be taught that. Someone very charismatic would have to have conveyed a reward system, but how?”
Clarc shook her head. “What are you getting at, Dr. Tamana?”
“Whomever Dr. Solvig spoke to, someone, apparently in a position of authority. They called us trespassers and disruptors. I’ve been mulling over that word for quite some time. What are we disrupting?”
“Some sort of order or plan?” Jayson followed the train of thought. “This is all a pretty thin argument, Disha. We need to know the context of what they were talking about. Let’s go back to the camp and–”
Another blast of lightning, another inhuman scream, and another chant of acceptance from the crowd cut him off mid-sentence.
Tamana winced in genuine pain. “You’ve written about the dignity of emerging societies. Where is the dignity in that?!” She turned to Clarc, “And you, you’re a zoologist. You wouldn’t watch an animal in the woods be tortured like that in the name of some tradition. How can you let it happen now?”
“Disha, there are a lot more of them than there are us. Clarc and Wolff barely got out with their fists and a plaser last time. How do you think you’re going to convince all of them to stop committing suicide?”
Tamana said nothing. She stood up and immediately began walking down the slope toward the path.
“Wait a minute,” Clarc said, a bit too loudly as she got to her feet as well. The village had caught wind of their presence, and a crowd of humanoids was slowly approaching them.
Wolff already had his plaser out. “Guys, it’s about to get dicey.”
Tamana continued walking towards the village. Humanoids were gesturing toward them; some shouted alarms. Jaysn placed himself in front of Clarc and Wolff. “Maybe you two should stay back. If you guys are wanted for blasphemy, there’s no need to walk back in there.”
“Like hell,” Wolff growled. “I’m not losing another party member.”
Clarc pushed Jaysn aside and started after Tamana. “This is an insanely bad idea, but I’m not letting you three leave me behind.”
Villagers began charging. Ignoring Tamana completely as they swarmed Clarc and Wolff. Wolff readied his plaser, and Clarc assumed a fighting stance. Jaysn knew he wasn’t much of a fighter, but decided he could probably at least tackle or wrestle a few to improve his friends’ odds.
The humanoids froze in their tracks, turned slowly, and regarded Tamana as if they had somehow failed to notice her earlier. Some started back toward her, then paused and turned back toward Clarc and Wolff. Others remained still but kept looking between the two, confused.
Jaysn ran to Tamana’s side, waved gingerly at the humanoids, and said under his breath, “This is crazy, Disha. Do you even have a plan?”
Tamana looked at him, her eyes saddened. “Yes, but if I’m right, you’re not going to like it.” She reached into her lab coat pocket and removed a one-kilo block of the explosives they had used to collapse the cave on LT-9. Jaysn suddenly realized he’d only heard one go off at Tamana’s position, while he distinctly heard two separate explosions when Clarc detonated hers. “You held one back,” he said, deflated, then quickly moved to grab the brick from her.
Her grip remained firm. Her other hand gently moved his aside. “I held one back.” Tears were welling in her eyes. “I thought we might have to use it at the cave if the raiders got to us.”
Some of the humanoids had regained their senses and began charging at Tamana and Jaysn. Wolff fired three shots in the air. Reflexively, the humanoids ducked, then charged back toward Wolff and Clarc again.
In front of Tamana, the ground swelled and vibrated with an inhuman roar. The villagers instantly froze and turned toward Tamana. There was a second, louder roar as two serpents rose up from the ground in front of her, looking every less out of place, but every bit as real and menacing as the ones in the city had been earlier.
Tamana regarded the giant guardians without fear. “I see I have your attention now,” she shouted toward the sky. The villagers moved in and began to surround her, Jaysn, and the giant snakes, completely ignoring Clarc and Wolff.
Jaysn’s jaw dropped. “You knew that would happen?”
Tamana shrugged. “I was testing a theory. I had hoped I was wrong.” She then looked upward again. “You tried that one already.” She began walking between the serpents, who darted in front of her and merged into a column of fire, three meters high. She walked around the column of fire, which moved to block her path again, this time taking on a humanoid shape shrouded in darkness. “I realize you’re using archetypal fear images, but I’m a scientist. The snake is improbable, and fire of that nature is impossible on this world.” She pointed to the dark doppleganger in front of her. “And ‘shadow self’ is a bit on-point right now, isn’t it?”
Jaysn regarded the figure closely. It looked almost exactly like Tamana, except that the face and eyes were completely lifeless, and light itself had made a conscious choice to ignore it.
“I hate being right,” Tamana sighed.
Jaysn wiped his face with his palms. “Dr. Tamana, I must admit, like a few of your lectures over the years, I am a bit behind on the reading material. What are you talking about?”
“We’re being watched, and we have been watched ever since we arrived on this planet,” she began. “Presumably by the entity or entities that Dr. Solvig made contact with.”
“Trespassers and disruptors,” Jaysn nodded, trying to keep up. “So, whoever the observing entities are, they didn’t bring us here.”
“I don’t think they did.” Tamana nodded. “I find the label ‘disruptors’ very interesting, though. We’ve given them no evidence of any intent to disrupt the natural order of this place. Why would a highly intelligent species such as this see us as any kind of a threat or disruption?”
“Because they can’t control us the way they control the humanoids.”
Tamana nodded. “This isn’t a zoo or a science experiment. It’s an environment someone has engineered and controlled.” She turned to Jaysn. “You’ve seen it, but you’ve been steering around saying it. This level of intelligence and community, without any evidence of written language, art, music, or oral tradition, doesn’t make sense unless they’re not a flock. They’re slaves. Their development is being deliberately held back. I suspect it’s so they don’t advance to the point where they question their masters and stop breeding and rebuilding the walls.”
Jaysn nodded, accepting the premise. “Okay, it’s one good theory. There are a lot of others. Why don’t we go back to the camp and talk about it?” he said calmly.
Tamana looked at him. “Because there are two outcomes to that argument, Jaysn. We can choose leave the design intact, and either spend the rest of our lives here, watching an intelligent species continually commit pointless suicide for the sake of an unseen controller, or we somehow find a way back home and live with ourselves for letting it happen. On the other hand, we can follow our training and our conscience. We can stop it, here and now. We can free them, or at least give them the right to choose whether or not they want to participate in service to an unseen master, which is exactly what she–” Tamana gestured to the shadowy doppelganger in front of her. “—is afraid of.”
Jaysn started to laugh. “Who’s being irresponsible now, Disha? Do you even know if that brick is going to detonate in this atmosphere? Do you even know if this species is capable of surviving without the protection of our hosts?”
“They do,” Tamana said, looking up. Then she gestured to the villagers. “Look at them, Jaysn.” Tamana’s voice was resolved. “How many more screams will you have to listen to before you realize you have to do something?”
Jaysn’s voice was desperate. “Don’t be crazy. We’ll find a way to make this work.”
“I hope you do. All of you,” she said, as she began to cry. “But, I knew, one way or another, this was going to be my last expedition … for better or for worse. If you do make it home, and I am to be remembered, then I want it to be for dying for something I truly believed in. If you don’t get home, and nobody ever speaks my name again, then that’s okay, too. Somebody needs to write the first line for these people. This is mine.” She turned and ran past her shadow self toward the obelisk, arming the detonator as she moved.
“Disha!” Jaysn screamed and started after her, but Wolff grabbed the collar of his jacket and pulled him back. Clarc hadn’t even budged.
“Take cover!” Wolff screamed, shoving his companions to one side behind a mud hut and motioning for all of the villagers to get down.
Jaysn stumbled to his feet and was instantly tossed two meters back by the blast.
