1:1:10 Silus (Part 2)

The lift doors parted and the sound washed in. It was like their trip to medical but a thousand times worse. While there had been a lot of different types of noise on the medical floor, the overlapping of thousands of conversations accompanied with the shouting of vendors in languages that, thanks to the cubes, translated in Lore’s head were the least of their problems; it wasn’t just the sounds but the lights and smells and temperature. Nothing about the habitation saucer was pleasant. They tried to leave the lift but found themselves bound to its corners. A deep, moist breath in and they tried again. Crossing the threshold was like walking through a wall of foam; every step resisted them as they fought through both the sensory overload and the crowds. Char had sped off ahead leaving them alone in the packed market. The lift doors had closed. For a moment, Lore thought they had seen themselves crumpled in the corner of the carriage as it began its journey back to the hangar. Looking back at the room and things were immediately worse. Their vision seemed to have doubled with shadows of people walking independent of their hosts making the cramped space even worse; the shadows disintegrated as their owners made their decisions but, from that death, they rose again. Lore continued, fighting their legs to move forward, passing by several food stalls selling meats certainly alien to them, communicating via clicks and whistles. They felt as though every step from the lift was one that added to the elastic potential of an invisible cord. They didn’t know why they were feeling this and that only made things worse. Ahead, Char had realised that Lore wasn’t by her side. She checked the scanner on her wrist. There weren’t too many humans on the station but one stood out. Highlighted in mauve, and not too far away, the human she assumed to be Lore. She assumed correctly as she approached the crumpled mess of her partner.
A hand appeared out of the crowd. Their world was noise; warm, over-seasoned noise and something was making it slightly worse. They could feel Char’s hand in their orbit. They grabbed at it and were hoisted up. Unlike the instant relief of Crait’s embrace, the locals were unsure of whether they should be frightened of this new pairing; they stood together, unified but weakened, their flesh exposed, their soul vulnerable. Things had become less offensive, the sounds no longer stabbed at their ears, the smells no longer forced their way up Lore’s nose but it was still painful to move. Char hadn’t been expecting this. She hadn’t been expecting any of this. The Lore of their memories had been fearless and untouchable but the one they had created, the one she had supposedly honed, was barely a shadow by comparison. She looked upon her creation and noticed two glaring omissions. She took a moment to wonder why they hadn’t been included in the kit she had been left but realised where they were.
“It’s going to be alright.” She tapped Lore’s shoulder before taking their hand and dragging them to the closest wall. She tapped at her wrist some more, searching the locale until she found what she was looking for. “Wait here, I’ll be just a moment.” She separated from them and once again, the world’s population doubled. So much potential and they could see it all. They weren’t sure how much time had passed but it had felt like an moment of pain extended over a week. Even watching Char became a painful endeavour as they tried to follow the paths of three different versions of her which collapsed into one as she handed them a small, round, black polymer case. “Try those on. They should help.”
Lore opened the case revealing two black silicone disks with ear buds stemming from one side. Instinctively, Lore took one of the buds and placed it in their ear. Instantly, it was as if they were back holding Char’s hand. They quickly put the second one in and the difference was night and day. While not perfectly quiet, they certainly helped; their senses, which had been dialled up to twenty, were now sitting at their usual eleven. Lore wordlessly leapt up and embraced their saviour.
“Amazing what five Rel’ll get you.” She paused. “Well, five Rel and a fair bit of cursing. Daetar’s are fiercely religious. They’re called Llairs.” She paused, grasping for the English word. “Sonics” She clicked her fingers in success.
“Claires?” For the first time since they arrived on the floor, Lore felt their mouth open. A laugh escaped.
“Close enough.” They looked to their Breacher and realised that what they were convinced had been hours had in fact been less than ten minutes.

Now confident they could continue, they did. Char led the charge, occasionally checking her wrist. The holographic map she had used to find Lore now only showed two dots that were growing ever closer together. What they had seen of the habitation saucer hadn’t impressed them; rusted walls, peeling floor insulation and wonky gravity were just a few of the factors feeding into their want of a speedy retreat. Walking towards their goal had felt like navigating an overgrown forest, hacking through people like one would vines but the closer they came, the lower the resistance. The crowds numbers had lowered significantly and so, apparently, had the stations safety standards. While they had shown disdain for earlier sections of the station, at least they had walls. Crumbling bulkheads and oxidised walls now so thin they acted like orange stained windows really made Lore wonder how far The Protectorate had gone to force a once decorated war hero to hide in such a place. The area around them was much less commercial than where they entered. Communal housing that was far from fit for purpose explained the lack of foot traffic; ahead, and hosting the majority of the area’s population, a small tavern. A handful of tables with depressed day drinkers sat in the foreground of the pub. The doors, now replacing the walls, made entering the building much easier but didn’t stop the patrons from noticing their presence. Pausing their drowning, they looked to the newcomers, several of them examining Lore’s coat and pricing up their armour before returning to their own business. According to the scanner, they were right on top of their target but they were nowhere to be seen.
“I think I know where they are.” Lore pointed to the back corner of the pub. It was completely black, the bulbs long resigned and never replaced. “Of course they’re going to be there.”
Char took another look around. She was about to reach the same conclusion when, out of the corner of her eye she saw the unmistakeable skin tone of a Quatarrian. “There.” She nodded in their general direction.
Lore and Char advanced on them slowly and in a way that they thought would look natural; thankfully, no one cared enough to look as their attempt came off as direct and almost aggressive. Walking towards them, Lore got a good look at the person the aftermath of the war had made. Their reddish tan skin hadn’t been in the best condition in their prime but now it bore deep crevice like scars and cracks and crinkles everywhere else. Their once thick hair had dulled and thinned significantly and so had their physique; the soldier their memories had shown them looked as though they could lift the world and then some but the figure before them, while still muscular, was mainly sinew and skin, malnourished and starved. Silus sipped at their drink, nursing it as they had for the half hour extra they had been waiting. On the table next to their glass, a single copper cog.
“Next one is on you.” Their voice, much like their body, was rough and gravelly.
“On Lore more like. Sorry we got caught up.” Char threw the Rel from the bottom of her bag down on the table before flagging over the nearest server and ordering another drink for Silus and one for herself.
 Silus looked Lore up and down. They took another drink from their glass before reaching under the table. “You seem a little young to be out here.” There was a faint whirring that even through their Sonics they couldn’t mistake. Lore reached for their staff. “Tell me something: What’s your name?”
Lore dropped their hands to their sides. They showed their palms to Silus as they advanced. They leant over and put their mouth as close to Silus’ ear as they felt comfortable doing and whispered in a voice so quiet they barely heard it. “Sha’tara.”
As the first sound hit their ear, Silus put his hand back onto their drink. “Quite the oddity you are, aren’t you. No communication for years then, out of the blue I get a string of co-ordinates and a ticket to Gwyss.”
Lore looked at them confused. “Gwyss was a roaming village. Supposedly home to the most peaceful people on Quatarr and famous for its mystery.” Char explained. “People would spend their whole lives trying to find Gwyss and the few that succeeded could never find it twice.”
“Obviously Lore did.” Lore paused. “But why use it as a meeting point?”
“It’s hard to find. Plus I didn’t meet you there.” Silus sighed. “When I got there, the locals were expecting me and they handed me another note and a bag.” They shook their head. “I’ve been chasing pages for the last few months. Suppose I can’t grumble. Until recently, the notes’ve been keeping me out of trouble.”
“Right place at the right time.” Lore looked between both of their companions at the table. On their left, the red-tan Silus and on their right, the pale tangerine of Char that they had gotten used to associating with Quatarrians. “It’s probably going to sound rude but… Why are you different colours.”
“Because she’s from the East and I’m from the West.” Silus scoffed.
“And the Eastern Quatarri wore full body suits during the war so they probably never saw the differences.” Char patted Lore’s shoulder. “The Eastern continent of Quatarr was too hot for anyone or anything to survive on its surface so, after our exodus from the west, we dug in and built a life underground.” She stared intensely at Silus.
“You make it sound like it was our fault.”
“It sort of was…”
“You lost the war.” Silus gave them a smug look.
“I was there.” Lore tried to diffuse the tension.
“Different war. You caught the tail end of the second one.” Char took a deep drink. “First one didn’t end as well for us. A tenth of our people gone and that was before the invention of Rejuvenation weaponry.” Char began.
“Sorry about that.”
“So our founders moved to the Eastern continent and started a new life. The Tempora in the caves gave us everything we would have gotten from the sun and more. It’s radiation enhanced our crops and catapulted our tribe into the modern era. We started with nothing but the clothes on our backs but the Tempora took care of us.”
“Their mining operations let them build on the research of the North.” Silus tapped their side. “They had such ready access to Tempora dust it was always going to happen. Couldn’t even fight us without their sunglasses and ATPs.”
“ATP’s?” Lore looked to Char
“Allarn Tramrung Pawts. Years underground had made our people sensitive to sunlight and its associated radiation. Our early scouts came back more wounded by sunburns than the enemy.” Char glared at Silus.
They returned with a hearty chuckle. “Weak Quatarri. Drwg anifere bywen fil blaidd.” Lore only understood two of the words but bad and wolf in a sentence together, coupled with Char’s increasing redness, couldn’t be a good thing.
“Right…” Char barked. “We aren’t here to rehash the wars.” She tried to calm herself. “We’re here for that list I assume.”
Silus dug into their jacket. “Actually, you’re here for this.” They produced a small tablet. “Damn thing doesn’t work but I was told to give it to you by you so… Here you go.” They handed Lore the tablet. “Oh and these. I’ll need yours.” They took a polymer rectangle out of their trouser pocket. It had three buttons each with little pictures.
“There you are, we’re parked on airlock five.” Char handed over the shuttle key and the parking ticket.
“Well, this seems like a really bad deal for me but… I have to admit, I did love the old Galeth classes.”
Lore depressed the button on the side of the tablet and immediately it booted. An image on the screen prompted them to place their finger in the middle of the circle. They jabbed it with their index finger and were rewarded with a burning sensation as the screen scanned their biometrics. The word welcome appeared on screen before it faded to black. It was soon replaced with a loading screen; in the bottom right corner a sentence faded in. Think fourth dimensionally. Lore watched it as it slowly fade away. Lists.