Chapter 3- Sapient Menagerie

Sola’s head went down and her shoulder connected with Gnarl’s upper leg joint. He shifted his weight to lessen the impact. Sola turned and aimed a punch at his back. Optic thrust his scythe towards her legs. She jumped and grabbed it before the motion was complete. Her hands clung to the sharp edge. Her vision blurred. He tried to wave her off before her weight broke the thin outer plate. She went smashing into the passage wall hipfirst. She inhaled and stood, panting hard. Gnarl threw his whole weight towards her. She rolled out of the way and leapt onto his back. There were vestiges of wing-flaps on his abdomen. She grabbed the edges and ripped up. The flaps cracked. Gnarl shouted in pain, injured by the pitfalls of evolution.

She leapt off and landed near the Optic. He aimed a kick with four of his legs at Sola. The blow missed entirely. Sola dodged it and aimed a hard punch at his middle-section. The plating splintered but did not break. Her hand throbbed upon impact. Optic stumbled backwards. Sola was bloody, her body staggered and weak. Somewhere in the trundled machinery of her mind she remembered fights from years ago. She skidded down the corridor for more room. Gnarl took two running strides and swung both his scythes at her. One grazed her arm, cutting through her jacket and slicing her skin. She yelled and backed up. Muscle memory kicked in. While Gnarl was steadying himself after the powerful blow, she rushed forward and threw her hands around his skinny neck. Her momentum, and her frantic strength, carried her around the base of his body up onto his back. Her hands raised to break his neck and end the first of her problems. Before the final blow was struck she was thrown backwards and upside down by an invisible force. She hung on the wall, head towards the ground. Optic limped towards her. The front of his purple exoskeleton was cracked in half. Gnarl shuddered and shook his head and neck. The back of his abdomen was bleeding yellow fluid.

“Still getting the walk?” she seethed.

“Are you?” asked Optic.

He touched his injuries with a scythe, a fascinated look on his face. The lack of anger frightened Sola. Gnarl gave Optic an uncertain look. There was still fury and confusion in his body-language. They seemed to be having a whole conversation she could not understand. The bruises on her legs burned. Her hair had burst forth everywhere all over her face. Finally, Gnarl spoke up.

“It was an animal defending itself. You can’t really—

“You cannot pretend to think-” Optic began

“You are one who’s pretending to think,” Gnarl cut in.

She hung silently and watched them, too exhausted to intervene.

“It would be very different,” said Optic.

“The Cacus wouldn’t like it.”

“And we have quotas to fill,” said Optic. “Places to go that may necessitate variety. Is that reason enough?”

“So rash,” Gnarl said and his face fell. Sola coughed and shook. She summoned any energy she had left.

“You aren’t keen on sharing, are ya?”

They stopped speaking and turned to her. She had no better idea what was about to happen then she usually did. Their conversation had cleared nothing up. Gnarl’s shoulders were stooped. Optic continued to touch his injuries. He looked from the ceiling back to Sola. She glared back, letting him know that anything he had to say to her short of “there’s earth, forget this ever happened” was unwelcome.

“What did you call your species again?” Optic asked.

“Fuck you,” she said cheerfully.

“Human,” Gnarl answered for her.

“Are you sure there are no records of your people in Cacus databases?” asked the other.

“I have no idea what that is and I don’t fucking care.”

“Tiv assured us that they are invisible and unknown, in every respect,” said Gnarl, in a low voice.

Optic leaned in to inspect her face. His mouth had no breath.

“Do you want to live, human?”

Sola snorted and looked away.

“That depends,” she croaked back.

…

The invisible bonds that had stopped her rampage had shifted to her hands and feet. She was shackled by air. It was lucky for them as, had she been free, she would have tried to rip their legs off. Again. The promise of her temporary safety had failed to stem her anger. They had made no indication about why they had changed their minds or the nature of her imminent fate when minutes ago it had been an unusual march towards death. Both were silent during the march through the passageway and up through the shaft under the tree. The green metallic disc lifted them up onto back the surface of the asteroid. Sola’s eyes were once again filled with an amazing haze of stars. She forgot her anger in the viridian radiance that rained down from the vaults of ink and the haloed galaxies. Then she remembered and said “fuck you” to all of it.

Her eyes fell back down to the ground which was dark except for a series of circular silver lights hovering over the top of the Tent. No overhanging star lit their way. The sun had receded into the anonymous sky and they’d traveled deep into interstellar space, farther than anything human. Alone. She rolled the word around in her mind. Cut off from anything humans had ever known, pulled from Earth like a bad tooth and thrown into the irrational trash of the universe. She wondered if the thought should drive her mad. Instead, it just depressed her. They led her across the moonish dust towards the circus tent. The monochromatic stripes on the sides were asymmetric. They possessed n rhythm and reflected their owners perfectly in that respect. A flap in the canvas led directly to the interior. The two aliens pushed their way inside. Sola hesitated for a moment. If they wanted, it’d be no trouble to skewer her on the spot. Her life was a game to them but she didn’t know the rules. She grimaced and decided her only course of action was to play along.

The inside of the tent bore a limited resemblance to any circus on Earth. There were three rings in the middle, each with a drum-like podium in the center. This was where the resemblance ended. Surrounding the rings was a wide array of seating or what appeared like seating. Structures of varying sizes and shapes filled the airspace all around the rings, from ground level to the tent apex. The seats appeared to be made of the same striped material as the outside canvas. As she watched, a couple of the ‘seats’ shifted shape, going from rhombus to spheroid. A couple shifted into nonpolygonal forms that looked very uncomfortable, from a human perspective. The whole scene, taken together, was a huge shifting vista of patterns and forms. Sola recalled briefly a day in her twenties when she’d taken acid. She felt vaguely sick.

The Ringleaders waited, expectant and silent, at the center podium. Circling them in a skittish circuit was the white insect. Klo, they’d called it. It approached her and stopped feet away. At a close distance, the details of its bizarre physical appearance were visible. Its exoskeleton was ruddy white, blotched with dust and scars. She could see herself in the sheen of its eyes, hair frizzed out, red leather jacket torn on the side. The fact that she was able to move at all surprised her. It emitted a flash of light. She got the distinct feeling it was presenting its approval.

“Thanks,” she said to the insect, not quite caring if it didn’t understand. It just felt good to thank something. It flashed more light in response. A fondness pricked up inside her for the insect, likely because it was the only thing that, so far, had not tried to kill her. Optic beckoned for her to come forward. She trudged to the center of the Tent, her heart full of dread. The rest of the “troupe” was nowhere in sight. Klo followed at her back.

“How impressive do you think you are?” Optic asked, hauling himself up to sit on the center drum.

“Impressive enough to nearly kill one of you,” she said.

“A start,” Optic nodded.

“A very basic start,” said Gnarl. He continued to glare at her.

“So what is this? What are we thinking?” Sola asked, her voice punched through with sarcasm.

“I think you have two options,” stated Gnarl. “Though I’m unsure you ought to be presented with them.”

“Well said,” Optic added.

“And these would be?”

“We can either kill you,” said Gnarl. “That would be efficient. And easy. The route our beloved government might take.”

“Yes, or we can…make use of your services,” said Optic. “As you have just presented to us thus far.”

Sola fixed Optic with a steady gaze.

“You were going to use me as fuel, then kill me, now you want me as…a what? A member of your circus? A dancing monkey? You’d think I’d agree to that?”

Gnarl threw Optic a look.

“She isn’t going for it, as I said.”

“She will go for it. Because, in exchange for your services, we will take you back to your world.”

Gnarl sighed and looked away.

“So much trouble,” he muttered.

“My…services?” Sola said suspiciously.

“Think of it as a contract,” said Optic. “We have need of your animalistic instinct. And you wish to return home. You provide the former and we’ll ensure the latter.”

“And why should I believe you?”

“Unless you’d rather die instead,” Gnarl said in a noncommittal bass.

No part of her believed that they meant what they said. They didn’t need her. They were amused by her. She was an animal to them. They wanted a pet, a toy, a god-damn prank-monkey. There was nothing to be gained by trusting them but there was also no way she was going back down in that cell. She wasn’t suicidal or too proud to live, if she could help it. It was, for all she knew, the only way to keep moving forward. She had little choice but to trust them. For now, there was only one choice- die on her feet or wait on her knees until she could find a way home. The idiotic course or the patient one. She heard Klo leave without waiting for her decision. She sighed.

“I guess I’m joining the Circus.”

The pair stood abrupt where they were, the reluctance in her voice visibly exciting them. She turned around and showed them the arms that were pinned behind her.

“Provided ya cut me loose, that is.”

The invisible restraints fell away. She rubbed her wrists. Her anger still flared. She tamped it down. It was useless for the moment.

“Now what in the hell do you need my help for?”

“We aren’t fully qualified to answer that question. But they are,” laughed Optic. “One at a time, everyone. For her own sake.”

Sola heard steps behind her. She turned and found her vision suddenly obscured by a prism inferno. Colors burst forth from nowhere into the air. They bounced like terrible art off of every immediate surface and reflected back into their initial source. It took her a moment to realize the source of this chromatic conflagration belonged to one…person. This person, or alien, was right in her face. She had arrived there before Sola had time to process a reaction. She moved back to the center-ring drum.

“Back the hell up,” she swore.

“It smells like meat,” the thing said. She was taller than most humans, far over six feet but shorter than the Optic or Gnarl. She had a humanoid shape, female at the edges and in central features, stretched out but not exceeding the limits of believability. If she had an age, it looked to be around mid-twenties. The clothes on her body wouldn’t have been out of place at a psychedelic rock concert. A tie-dye shirt came down over tight leggings that were striped yellow and black. Her hair was a floating mess of rainbow neon that seemed to rise and fall of its own accord. Her most nonhuman attributes were her face and her skin; she was gray and noseless, with two jagged spirals that slowly rotated over the smooth surface where her eyes should have been. Her mouth was an enormous lopsided grin with curled sides and sharp teeth. Sola felt confused just looking at her.

“HEY!” barked the colorful woman suddenly, “ya done starin, meat-sack? Cause I’m through with lookin at you. How do you think I feel having to stare at your fucking existence, huh? Ya think I like that?”

Sola did not know how to answer this. She stared at the babbling woman for a few moments, unable to keep her eyes off the wavering color. She recognized the voice as the one that had paralyzed her when she’d tried to run from the Ringleaders. The flap opened behind her but she couldn’t see who had entered in next. A voice called in from the back.

“Stop yer yammering at the sub-ethic. It’s scared. I think its lost its mind already.”

He sounded like an ill-tempered grandfather. A mighty wrench of will tore Sola’s eyes off of the woman and over to the other speaker. She must have lost her mind, somewhere, she decided, when she saw him. It was the only explanation for the existence of the creature. His overall shape appeared to be that of an overgrown snail, about her height, complete with a large foot hidden under a shell covered with hundreds of sigils. His head was bird-like with sharp yellow eyes and he had two tentacles for arms, adding an aquatic edge to the avian facial features. From his eyes and its voice, she could tell it was significantly older than anything else she had met. He was as old as Fuse was disorienting. There was a weight added to her insides when she saw creature, a creeping lethargy. His voice called out again.

“I think it likes me more than it likes you, Fuse,” he laughed.

“Thinks he’s so great,” said the colorful woman. “He’s just jealous I got to meet you first. Trust me.”

For the first time, Sola turned wordlessly to Optic and Gnarl for some explanation. Optic looked down from the drum.

“Use your manners, human. You’re intelligent enough to speak,” he said, smiling.

She turned back to the pair. They had moved forward next to Fuse to get a better look at her.

“Let’s start with bird-head right there,” she said, not knowing where else to begin. “You…have a name?”

He crossed his tentacles. The mouth in his beak fell upwards into a gentle curve.

“Oh, goin for me, are ya? Must recognize the authority in the Tent. Name’s U. Just U.”

“And what…are you? U?” Sola asked.

“General performer and proud Conceptual Incarnation,” he answered.

“Of course you are.”

Fuse bent down to peer into Sola’s face. Her arms and legs stretched outward like thin noodles.

“You got some problem with C.I. huh, buddy? Cause we’ll throw down right here.”

“Fuse,” warned Optic. He hopped off his drum.

“I don’t give a damn what C.I are. So take it or leave it,” Sola shot back at her.

“I think you should since you wouldn’t be anything without us,” she snipped back.

“Ya mean we’d be nothin without them,” said U.

“Should I even ask for an explanation?” Sola asked, hopeless, to no one.

“C.I. stands for Conceptual Incarnation,” said Optic, now right next to her. His height made her uncomfortable. He continued.

“Where do you think your emotions come from? Or where they go when they’re done? C.I feed and spread specific emotions. They are everywhere at once, incorporeal sapients of a most extraordinary—

“Let me interject,” said Gnarl holding up a scythe. “For her own sake. They are…how would you define it…ghosts. Spirits, more like. Made up of the collected emotions of living beings.”

“We are yer damned emotions. Not just leeches,” said U. “We’ve been around and around. Some of us too much. Longer than you, I take it. Ya got a name? Or a species?”

“Sola. Human.”

“Never heard of em. They sound panicky.”

“More often than they should be. What…um…emotion is your favorite?”

“Age,” he growled.

“Age isn’t an emotion.”

“Then yer too young to know that it is.”

“She’s too young to know anything except how to stand and freakin grunt at us for food,” Fuse laughed.

Sola glared at her.

“You like to hear yourself talk, don’t ya? What emotion are you, stupidity? I’m sure that counts.”

Fuse’s spirals spun faster.

“I’m all about Confusion, hun. So the less you know, the better for me.”

“I’ll try and keep that in mind,” Sola replied in a bored voice. “Damn junkie.”

The tent opened again and what she hoped was the last member of the troupe moved forward past U. It had fur, white and downy, all over its body. Its limbs were thicker than most humans, trunk legs and stump arms tipped in curved and silver claws. The look on its squarish face was stoic and worn. It said nothing and made no noise when it moved. Both of its eyes were striped in vertical lines of black and white.

“Our oldest member,” said Optic behind her. “Picked it up some cycles ago. Tiv. If you have to blame anyone for your coercion, that would be Tiv. It was very interested in your planet.”

“For reasons it did not see fit to explain to us,” said Gnarl.

It stared at Sola through the stripes. Something inside of her refused to break eye contact. There was a reticence and intention to the silent creature. It held out a claw and she hesitated then shook it.

“What a…wonderful troupe you’ve got here,” said Sola, unsure of how to proceed. An exhaustion pressed on her.

“You’ve met Klo, already,” said Optic. “Our resident Cwynd. Pleasant folk.”

“C.I.’s and Cwynd. Whatever,” Sola mumbled.

“Now there is one more member,” he continued. “But she’s a bit distant.”

He adjusted his hat and the blue screen appeared over his eye like he had before with Optic.

“Say hello to our guest.”

A gray image flickered into existence in the dusty air overhead. It was the frowning planet she’d seen in the sky outside. Sola cocked her head, confused. It began to speak in a soft, alto voice.

“Hello Sola. It’s wonderful to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too.”

An uncomfortable silence. It felt like a bad party.

“So what do they call you?” Sola asked.

“Oh….um…I’m not sure how to say it,” said the planet. “It’s more of mental name. It’s very long. I can give you my shortened name. We use that most of the time. It’s Kingilnwipfar.”

“That’s...very nice,” said Sola slowly.

“Nice,” Fuse laughed. “Smooth, dude. Why don’t you just punch her in the frown while you’re at it?”

“If that’s too hard, we can do something you’re more comfortable with,” the hologram said quickly. “What do you think?”

Sola ran a hand over her face. Her brain already felt cooked. She cast around for easy names.

“Oh god, I don’t know. How about Sally?”

Fuse opened her mouth but U reached up and clapped a hand over it.

“Sally it is,” muttered Gnarl. “A good replacement for that monster of a name. Been looking for one.”

“So, what is that big rock you’re on out there? A special atmosphere or something?” Sola asked, in an attempt to be space-savvy.

“Well not really,” answered the hologram.

“This is already great,” Fuse laughed.

“She is the big rock, ya dolt,” said U.

Sola had no idea what to make of this information.

“What?”

“She’s a WIK,” said Optic, “and we are quite proud of her.”

“C.I’s, Cwynds and WIK’s,” Sola said and shook her head. “So are all WIK’s giant rocks?”

Sally chuckled.

“In a way.”

Sola grasped at intellectual straws.

“Did I just name a planet Sally?”

“You did,” said Optic smiling.

“But how are you alive?” Sola sputtered.

“In the way that sapient mind or group of sapient minds is alive,” answered Sally. Sola threw up her hands, palms up and looked around.

“Anyone at all? Will anyone explain to the shitty lifeform? What the hell is a sapient? Can we start with that?””

“A sapient is any intelligent creature,” Optic explained. “And a WIK is essentially a massive mind encased in a planet,” Optic explained. “A living world, brought to sapience by its children. WIK- World in Knowledge. Isn’t that sentimental?”

“Sweet enough to make me vomit,” said Gnarl.

Sola felt a daze behind her eyes, a growth like a cloud. She was sure that humans weren’t ready, and weren’t meant, to interact with aliens, planets, planet-aliens and circuses powered by philosophy. There was nothing for it now. She leaned back against the drum in the middle circle.

“You’ve had your fun, driving me nuts with the freak show, here,” she said and closed her eyes. “Is this everyone?”

“All that we have,” said Gnarl.

“Who are you two, exactly?” asked Sola. “Their leaders?”

“Correct,” said Gnarl.

“The Ringleaders of our circus,” said Optic.

“And you want me to agree to go with you?”

“You already have,” Optic said in an ominous voice. Sola stared at her hands. The palms were too human. She imagined the space outside weighed a cosmic ton.

“And why have I been forced to do this? Join your fucking,” she waved her hands, looking for the word. “Gang. Circus. Whatever.”

“It’s called Triangulum,” barked U, “and we need all the help we can get.”

“For what?” she asked, eyes impatient. Fuse cracked her knuckles and lifted her hands.

“Finding god. Duh.”

Next Chapter: Chapter 4- Life as We Do Not Know It