Leftovers

Conn of Zarn

Conn's two handed sword ripped from its sheath in his startlement. He looked about,
but all of his companions had simply vanished into the dusty ground of the alien
planet surface. Then he, too felt the ground disappear from beneath him and he fell
through a cloud of dust into a dark tube. He braced for an impact, but none was
forthcoming. Conn felt a powerful blast of air blowing up over his body, and he
started to spin uncontrollably, so he instinctively rearranged himself into a freefall
position. He knew that the wind was simply due to the fact that he was falling down
this alien tube, and if the tube ended suddenly, that would be that. But no end of the
tube was in sight. He bumped into the walls of the tube several times, and learned that
it wasn't rock, but rather a smooth, organic material.

Zarn hated surprises. Plus he hated being controlled by any force outside of himself,
even the force of gravity. He wanted to act, not be acted on. So, his natural hatred for
the unexpected took over, and he stuck out his sword, still held in his left hand,
toward the wall of the tube. The slight friction of the end of the sword with the wall
started to throw off his balance in the free fall, so he pulled the sword back. Then he
stuck the sword out again, holding on with both hands, and, slanting the blade
downward a little, worked the point into the wall a little bit. This action made the
sword slice right through the walls of the tube and slowed Conn's fall. Conn's
powerful torso was jerked downward and over against the smooth wall of the tube,
but he managed to keep the sword angled down so that it was still cutting through the
walls of the tube. He was leaving a long slash in the wall of the tube. Then, by angling
the sword downward at an even steeper angle, the handguard on the sword began to
rub against the walls of the tube, too, and that increased friction eventually brought
Conn's fall to a stop.

He hung there, panting, for a long moment. Then, he pulled himself up on his sword
and over into the hole that he had cut into the side of the tube. There was space on the
outside of the tube, and a strange luminescence lit up a bizarre landscape. There were
ten to fifteen other tubes visible in the dim light, and large fibrous connections
between the tubes. The main source of light, however, appeared to be coming from
below.

There was a thrumming sound in the air, and it all smelled like fresh cut grestal weed
back on Zarn. Conn looked around, tested the connecting fibers between the tubes,
and began venturing out on them. They were close enough together that he could just
stretch from fiber to fiber and make a climb of it.

He looked up, and then down, and then slowly started his climb. Downwards. He had
to find out the fate of his three companions.

It had seemed like a routine mission, if anything in the Dien Planet Belt could be
routine. They were out scouting for sentient beings. The vibratory orderliness in the
new sectors was often fluctuating, and new sentient beings were always needed to
assure the smooth functioning of natural laws. It's not that society couldn't function
just fine without the help, but that certain things went smoother with the help of more
cosmic tuners. That's what sentient beings could become, with a little training.

The tuners were the foundation of intergalactic society. By their ability to maintain
their metabolisms at a very fine level, they brought the abstract energy of the quantum
level of existence into the physical world. No one understood before the tuners
existed how important this would be. It was as if life was a dark place, and the
quantum energy lightened everything up. As if all that good ideas and worthy
undertakings needed was more energy. And with the powerful influence of the tuners,
an abundance of energy was available everywhere for every good thing, as if in the
air. And, strangely, the negative elements of society became more positive, because
they found more energy to fulfill their needs in a normal way, and the criminal
methods seemed like so much more work.

But there were still dark cultures out there, so a few warriors like Conn were
necessary. And the only weapon that still existed was the two handed sword. An
ancient tradition of using the sword lasted all the way through the Peace Eon, but
mainly as another way of attunement with the quantum level. Still, there were those
like Conn who actually used the sword to cut things now and then, and in his
Sworder duties, not a few low end sentient beings had become reduced to food for
one celled gleaners.

Yes, sometimes the sentient beings didn't want to become tuners. As a matter of fact,
the sentient beings often didn't want to see alien shapes walking across their front
yards at all. So, it was occasionally necessary to have a guy like Conn at your side.
Not that they ever forced anyone to tune. But if you made even the slightest mistake
in approaching a new group of sentients, you often had to have self-defense.

But Conn was aware of having failed to protect this party of tuner trainers at all. As he
climbed farther and farther down on the springy fibers he began wondering what he
might find at the bottom of the tubes that his friends must have fallen into. The
luminescence got brighter, and a bright floor appeared a hundred feet below him. He
kept climbing down, and eventually reached the surface, which was a rubbery
substance crisscrossed with vein like structures.

Looking about he noticed that the tubes were firmly anchored in the rubbery floor,
but that some of the tubes emitted a bright glow at the base. The floor, of course, was
bright all over. Following a hunch, he walked over to one of the brightest tubes and
began hacking through it. The tube, which was about eight feet wide, quivered and
shook up its entire visible length as he cut away at it. Finally he cut an opening, and
only needed a moment to pop his head in through to see the crumpled uniform and
body of one of his flight mates. The body was slowly sinking into the ooze at the
bottom of the tube, and the luminescence glowed brightest where body met ooze.

Growing frantic, Conn hacked away at the other brightly glowing tube, only to find
the same glowing evidence of recent death. Frustrated, Conn sank to his knees on the
rubbery surface and rested his body and mind for a moment. He began the emergency
assessment procedure. Physical condition: Bruised, tired, no punctures or breaks.
Equipment: One sword. Two food pellets in belt. Emotional Condition: surprised.
Some shock. Remorse. Revulsion. Fear. Alertness. Level of Happiness: Diminished.

He didn't know what else to do, so he sat and began tuning. He closed his eyes and
immediately noticed his increased breathing and the aches in his arms. Plus a rising
pain in his heart, which he credited to the loss of his teammates. Suddenly he realized
that there was one person missing. Only two glowing bundles lay stuck at the bottom
of the tubes. And then, before he could even start the tuning procedure, he heard his
name spoken.

"Conn," the voice said. But it wasn't a voice that you could hear through your ears. It
was a voice appearing in his own mind. "Conn," the voice said, in a delicate whisper.
Not knowing what else to do, Conn answered "Who's there?" But he answered out
loud and his own voice sounded like a braying kendor in comparison to the inner
voice. "Conn," said the voice, which then continued, "cut me out." "Cut you out?,"
thought Conn, "where are you, inside my head?" Conn waited for an answer. The
answer came slowly, and softly, "Find my tube and cut me out, I can only do this for a
while."

Find my tube. That Conn could relate to. He opened his eyes and got to his feet. One
of these tubes contained another member of the party, and that person was thinking
messages to him. He had done think-sending a few times successfully himself, at least
he thought he had, when he was a kid in space classes. But some of the Tuner Trainers
were good at this stuff. And wherever this trainer was, he was one of the good ones.
But why was the voice so quiet? Usually they could really pop a voice into your
head, or at least that's what he had heard. Maybe the tuner was injured.

In any case all of these thoughts raced through Conn's head as mere background
noise as he began hacking away at tubes right and left. It was hard work, but he
became efficient at cutting small holes, sticking his head through, and then moving on
to the next tube. On the fifth tube he stuck his head through and saw what he was
looking for, because there, floating not four feet above the digestive floor of the tube,
was the tuner. And it was Beata.

She floated in the tube like a tesor toy, serenely sitting cross legged, eyes closed. She
slowly opened one eye, then closed it, and said something that Conn couldn't hear.
"What?" said Conn. Beata opened one eye again, closed it, and then said in a clearer
tone, "Wider opening." Conn got it then, pulled his head out of the tube and started
hacking away at the walls of the tube until he had cut a space large enough for Beata
to fit through. He then reached in and took her hand and pulled her through.

She floated in the space outside the tube for a moment, and then, smiling a little, said
thanks, and slowly extended her feet down to the rubbery floor, and then her body
followed her feet down to a place where she lay crumpled up.

Conn knew not to disturb her since she would need a while to come out of the
floatation ability mode. And sure enough, after only about ten kets, she stretched, sat
up, and said, "Thanks, Conn."

"You're welcome," he said. "The others..." he said. "Gone," she said, "I know. Let us
do silence." They sat for a long time and felt their own silence and felt for the
departed silences. Then they got up, turned around and praised all directions, for
leading to Completion.

Then he asked her, "How did you do The Float in such danger?" "It did not seem that
I had any choice," she said. "At first I was surprised and frightened, then there was just
the wind. So I used my only weapon, which is, of course, my mind. I began The Float,
and it didn't have full effect right away. You have to have calmness for full effect. But
The Float practice increases calmness, and as my calm grew, my fall slowed, and full
effect took place right on the level where you found me. I put my foot down and my
boot started glowing and dissolving in the ooze. So I kept floating and started
searching for you and the others by name. You were the only one where the name
went out and didn't come echoed back empty. Sorry I couldn't call your name
stronger. I needed to stay calm to maintain The Float.

He explained his much more physical solution to the falling problem. She was as
awed by his strength and resourcefulness as he was by her mental abilities.

Then they began Alternate Planning Phase One.

© Paul Stokstad 1995