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Lost in Space Part 7: Ch 4
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Summary: After finding Syco, the duo finds an unsettling, new reality.
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I don’t do anything. I look into their eyes, watching them morph into someone I once knew. I- No. She looks at me with wonder in her eyes. She’s who I was before everything led to this. She’s wearing the same outfit with white and thick, black lines, but hers is a lot newer than mine. Hers isn’t faded. Hers hasn’t seen what I’ve had to go through. It’s innocent, naive, something I wish I still had. It’s as the saying goes ignorance is bliss.
The two of us have talked about this. It felt good doing so, but it wasn’t enough. I still need to accept it. I still need to let these emotions go.
I hadn’t noticed I was crying until I felt a warm hand rest itself on my cheek. Their thumb wiped away my tears. Raising my head, I see my younger self fading. Through my blurry vision, I see everyone I’ve come in contact with throughout this journey, everyone that I’ve lost. Ashely’s sitting upright, taking the place of my previous self. When she leans in, connecting our foreheads, I hiccup and can feel my face heat up. “I’m-”
“Okay. It’s okay,” Saamuki told me.
A big, blue star beat down on the three of us as we headed towards the cathedral, the tallest, winding building poking up from the city resting on the other side of this massive brick wall. Its shadow would’ve covered Syco’s entire growing army easily. A handful of guards watched us from above as Syco conversed with the two standing in front of the entrance that was encased by a small, green forcefield. As he was showing them his screen, I took note of the wall. It’s stained with gunk, which attracted a swarm of flies. One of which departed from the others and buzzed towards the forcefield. Upon touching it, it was vaporized. I make a sound, which gets the attention of one of the guards above. Well, my brain tells me it does. I know it’s just a coincidence, but I’m still worried. Through his helmet, I imagine his eyes. I imagine him glaring down at me, looking past this disguise. I am a Talten now. I got my crown to do so twelve minutes ago, but my brain rationalized that he could see I was human and he was reaching for his blaster rather than his companion to tell a joke. I imagined him aiming it at me. He shoots. I flinch.
We’re inside. I breathe out. The cobble roads surround hundreds of medieval-style homes. A few citizens walk past us. Three held candles. One of which whips his groaning horse, to pull his carriage full of whatever could’ve been in those barrels faster. A thick, grey cloud puffed out of them with each bumpy step. The unwilling creature isn’t what horses look like on Earth. It has two stubby legs and a fat, round body. It’s as big as a horse, though. So, I just label it as one.
In this small, tight square the homes are withering. Some of the roofs and doors are molding. A few have cracked windows. One of which has completely shattered. If I had a nose right now it would’ve withered away too, vaporized like that poor fly. This area is completely unsanitary. Between two houses, in the corner of my eye, are flies circling what I hope is just a sleeping, single toothed old man with a mouth full of murky water and a single, torn, and stained page of a newspaper covering his crotch. Without it he’s naked.
Syco seemingly ignores the scenery around us, walking with confidence, and especially without concern. The two of us follow without question, but I can’t ignore the contrast between our previous and new settings. Underneath one of the many bridges connecting the impoverished to the affluent portions of the city, is a clear, blue river. Riding through it from within a bright, red Gondola is a man proudly singing, letting the universe know of his lovely voice, as he steers his boat. Before I’m able to fall behind from the others I turn around, making sure what I saw previously was real. There it is. A line separated these two completely different worlds, one side somber and the other is the cleaner, brighter, and happier one I am suddenly engulfed by. It made my heart drop, but I didn't get to settle on the feeling for long before I needed to catch up to the others.
Walking past a bridge that stretched above us, we entered another square. In this square, paper lanterns pointed down on us. Lined above them are flags, which had a white circle and a black dot in their centers. Two children, laughing, ran past us with a belt in their hands. Running towards them not too far behind is a guard trying to hold up his pants and shouting for the two little, young thieves to slow down. Once both parties turn a corner the ruckus dies and the onlookers besides us return to whatever they were doing. Although, the moment is forever written into everyone's mornings. Two women chuckle at each other about it. An elderly man sweeping his shop’s doorway now smiles. Another man, but this one is leaning against one of the nearby buildings, shakes his head from side to side in amusement as he plays with the golden coin between his gloved hand.
Looking at Saamuki, I see she too is jovial, She smiles. I imagine her feeling nostalgic. Now looking at Syco, his face remains stiff, but for some reason, I feel like he’s just as nostalgic as her.
Cold as ever, he continues towards the cathedral. Sunlight shoots through the stained glass in the center of its highest steeple, causing a familiar depiction to reflect onto us. A white, geometric figure, floating above a burning city looks down at the people below. They bow to the figure with tears in their eyes. They’re being forced to submit, and after everything that I’ve learned, I have a strong guess on who the white figure could be.
Syco swings open its doors. The sound when they close lets out a deafening echo. Rows upon rows of pews are empty but one. The one at the very end has a hunched figure whispering to himself, praying I presume. The cathedral somehow managed to be even bigger on the inside than it was on the outside. It’s dark. Candles are clasped between the statues of elderly women dressed in long, hooded robes. They are evenly spaced across either side of the cathedral. The flickering glow from their small torches makes it look as if their lips are moving. With each flicker, their frowns deepen. If they hadn’t been sculpted with hoods their eyes would’ve looked judgingly at us, right into our souls. At the front, the very end of this red rug we’re awkwardly standing on, are four statues bowing in front of a genderless, youthful, and cloaked figure with the same symbol as the flags outside etched into the center of their chest.
The leader of this mission strides forward solemnly towards the only other person here. We continued to follow him without question, but it’s here that I realize he never told us why we’re here. One of the few men he had on his ship came into our room, in the middle of our mourning, to alert us we landed on this planet and that Syco wanted the two of us to tag along. The two of us didn’t even look at each other. We just accepted it.
Although, maybe it's because the two of us shared distrust for Syco, so we wanted to remain on his good side. He was our enemy for so long. He was my enemy for so long. I was angry at him for so long, yet just barely two hours ago he wants to befriend rather than be a foe. No, more like coworkers, but is it right for me to feel this way about him? There’s a reason why Mikrovos acted the way he did when Syco and my paths crossed for the first time. Now he and everyone else is in his control, being enslaved by him. Everyone says he’s mad. At one point there wasn’t any way for me to argue, no reason as well, but a mad person doesn’t cry like that. He’s troubled just like- I shake off that thought, stopping myself before I start agreeing that we’re equals.
We’re heading towards the hunched figure, the reason why we came all the way here. Before we’re in front of them they have already started speaking, “Finally we get to meet.” When we’re in front of him, he continues, “I’ve heard a lot of things about you, but it’s only now I see your face.”
At this distance, I can see the figure is wearing the same armor as the guards outside, but it’s worn. Parts of the metal are scraped, the same insignia I’ve seen all around this place has just about faded from his torn shirt. The figure is a fungus-like alien species. His eyes are two yellow, rhombuses that look as if they’re glowing because of his dull, brown, and warty skin.
“Same to you, Shiitakee.”
This gets a smirk out of Shiitakee, but unlike the late Cala’s smirk, this one is friendly rather than depreciating. He leans forward and places his arms on the back of the chair in front of his pew. “Congratulations on your promotion.”
“A little late for that, but you’ve already congratulated me the day after it happened.”
“Yes, I did.” He rummages into his shirt and pulls out a cigarette. Shiitakee slides it between his cracked lips and slides a finger across the chair. A flame swallows the edge of the finger. This new character brings the finger to his cigarette and lights it. Blowing out the finger and blowing smoke into Syco’s face, causes Syco to step back, cough, and try to blow the smell away. “Always the straight man, Syco,” Shiitakee continued with a snicker and a cough.
“And that’s what you get.” He coughs again, but Shiitakee continues to smoke. Syco continues to act unconcerned, but he’s clearly amused. Until a few moments ago they were strangers, but now they’re acting like they are childhood friends. Shiitakee blows a few more times, which gets a few more reactions out of Syco. Their back and forth, which turns into laughter, has Saamuki and I turn to look at each other. I shrug at her.
Eventually, they stopped. I knew right then and there it became serious again. Shiitakee moves his head back to look at the dome that is the ceiling. “It’s been years since this place has heard voices other than my prayers. The last mass was about the time I got into contact with you, Sy.”
“I was wondering why you wanted us to meet here, the center of your city.”
“Ironically, it’s the safest place to meet.”
“I could see that now, so what was so important that we had to meet in person?”
Shiitakee lowers his head. His focus is back on Syco. “Until recently I would’ve scheduled this meeting to be like the others, but I knew this deserved for you to see in person.” Again, he goes into his shirt, but when he pulls out his hand this time he motions for Syco to move his hands towards him. Syco raises his eyebrow, but Shiitakee’s expression remains serious. So, Syco compiles without any more hesitation. Shiitakee then hands him something. Carefully, unwrapping his hands, he sees Shiitakee handed him a compass. Of course, it’s unlike any compass found on Earth. Alien symbols circle its edges and instead of a needle, there’s a purple crystal at its center. As I try to look over Syco’s shoulder, wanting to inspect it more, I can also see underneath the crystal is the same motif I’ve seen over and over again.
There couldn’t have been anyone in here besides us, but Syco questions in a hushed voice, “Is this?”
His friend nods.
“How did you get it?”
“I,” he coughs, but this time blood comes out, “A Watcher.”
The two of us standing behind him were hit with a shock. Saamuki’s eyes are wide and if I had mine they would be too.
“Are you insane, Shiitakee?” Syco’s voice is still quieter than usual, but he’s clearly mad. Maybe a bit disappointed too.
“Hah. Just like you I am.” The figure that was moments ago teasing Syco, which just winked at him, is one I finally realize is dying.
With a grunt, and after putting the compass into his pocket, steps over the chair to get to Shiitakee who I’m also now noticing has his feet stepping on a huge pile of long-dead cigarette buds. Shiitakee tries fighting Syco’s attempt at grabbing and slinging him onto his shoulder.
“What do you think you’re doing,” Shiitakee asked as his cigarette rested in one of the corners of his lips.
After bringing his dying companion to his shoulder, Syco takes a moment to reply with, “I’m not going to let you die like this, Shii.”
“Are you insane?”
“You already know the answer to that.”
Syco continues towards the doors and ignores Shiitakee’s continued thrashing. The two of us, who have been third-wheeling together, follow right behind them. Right, when Syco is about to push open the doors and Shiitakee has stopped fighting, all of the candles go out in unison. I get a bad feeling. We’re not in the dark because of my crown’s fire and Saamuki’s recently lit hands. The latter of which should be brighter than the now blown out candles, but the room is much darker now. It’s as if we were suddenly transported in the middle of a black hole.
“You have something that belongs to me,” a voice with a mix of other, varying voices growled from where we just walked away from.
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