Hard Luck Hermit

Corey stepped a little further away from the fleshy petals at the end of the tendrils. They swayed to follow him as he moved. It was hard to believe that these odd, plant-like tendrils were the “contact” Kamak had been leading them to.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Tooley said aloud. She examined the petals a little closer, and they examined her right back. “Wait, is this one of those...what do you call them, the worm thingies?”

“A Hakkidian Worm,” Kamak said, gesturing to the nearest extremity of the creature. “They’re effectively immortal, eighty percent nervous system, never forget anything, and these sensory flowers can pick up just about everything. Light, sounds, gravity, magnetic fields, even a bunch of shit you and I don’t even have words for.”

“They are living archives of nearly every facet of existence, even those we cannot perceive,” Farsus said. “Ideal information brokers, if they are willing.”

“Come on. This one will want to make the rest of his introductions itself,” Kamak said. “It’s a little odd that way.”

Sitting at a strange overlap between animal and plant, the Worms were effectively immobile creatures under normal circumstances, surviving by spreading out their extremities like roots and feeding from the soil. Transplanting one off of it’s homeworld was an arduous process, and almost certainly fatal if the Worm was not willing, which most were not. The occasional oddball example of the species found its way offworld, where they often served as administrators or information dealers due to their natural mental acuity.

As the crew went deeper into the tunnels, the roots started to grow thicker, as did the concentration of the sensory blossoms on every exposed surface. Soon enough the walls were completely coated in the red, fleshy blooms, all of them swaying towards the living things that walked amid their entangled tunnels. The wall of red was broken only by a small square of machinery that appeared to be grafted into the bark-like skin of the Worm’s body.

“Kamak D-V-Y-B,” it said, in a droning mechanical voice. “You live still. Your concentration of antam particles once again overcomes your belligerent nature.”

“Yep, still kicking, against all odds,” Kamak said. Apparently among the hundreds of things the Worms could sense there was something called “Antam”, an energy particulate that corresponded to what regular folks usually called “luck”. Kamak didn’t buy it, but the Worm insisted it was true.

“I will address your concerns for your survival in time,” the Worm said. It could sense his hidden fears and anxieties as easily as one could read the words on a page. However, just because it could see the fear did not mean it cared. “There are two of you I am sensing for the first time. Please step forward.”

Corey and Tooley shared a quick glance before stepping forward. Doprel seemed to be chill about meeting the Worm, and if he wasn’t worried, they probably had no reason to be worried either. Tooley stepped forward, and the sensory blossoms tracked her movement. The red petals of the “flowers” unwound into long, threaded filaments, further expanding the Worm’s sensory capabilities.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” Tooley said. “You got questions or something?”

“Not for you,” the Worm said. “I merely observe. I have had very few chances to catalog the Sturit species...though you are hardly a typical example, are you?”

The Worm could perceive every facet of Tooley’s existence -the neuron pathways in her brain that showed a resistance to authority, the alcohol damage to the cells of her liver, even the wear and tear on the joints on her wrist and hands that marked her as a pilot. All qualities very rarely found in the average member of her species. The Worm was smart enough to acknowledge the value of outlying variables, however.

“Your name,” the Worm said, before hesitating slightly. At the mention of a name, synaptic patterns in Tooley’s brain started to fire up, and the Worm perceived every neuron spark, and every associated motor instinct, to reassemble the word out of nothing but the thoughts in her head. “Tooley Keebur Obeltas.”

“That- Eugh, you’re weird,” Tooley said. “No offense.”

“I know,” the Worm said. It could not read most thoughts so easily, but names made especially strong mental impressions. It was a good way to establish the Worm’s power early on. It turned its attention to its other guest, and its sensory blooms swayed in Corey’s direction. “And your name. Corey...interesting.”

Just like Tooley, Corey formed the words of his name in his mind unwittingly when prompted. Unlike Tooley, however, his thoughts had an anomaly. Where there should have been a middle name, there was instead an instinctive reaction of disgust and anger.

“The structure of your name,” the Worm said. “It comes in three parts, but the second part...conflicts you. Why is that?”

“Oh. I, uh, legally, my middle name is...I’m named after my grandfather, technically. And I don’t like that. I don’t like him. There’s a reason we changed it.”

His maternal grandfather had insisted on having his grandson carry his name, if only in part. Just one of many ways he’d forced his will onto Corey’s mother in her all-too-brief life. The simmering rage he felt in the moment was apparent to everyone, much less the hyper-perceptive Worm.

“Very well.”

“So...do you have a name, or something? I get the feeling you’ve got a lot of questions for me,” Corey said. Considering he was probably the first human this Worm had ever seen, he could imagine the creature being curious. “This’ll be easier if I know what to call you. Sorry if I’m offending you by asking, I just don’t really know how this stuff works.”

“You do not offend,” the Worm said. “I possess something akin to a name, but you do not possess the capacity to intone it. However...I invite you to give me a name you feel appropriate. I am curious to see how you would define me.”

Very aware that he was being put on the spot, Corey racked his brain to come up with something appropriate for the strange alien tree-worm. The Worm did not particularly care what the end result was, it simply enjoyed watching Corey’s brain twist and accelerate in myriad ways Corey himself would never truly be aware of. Though the end result proved interesting as well.

“Thoth,” Corey said. He knew enough about egyptian myths to know the god of knowledge, which seemed like a fitting moniker for a creature like the Worm. It sensed the deific reverence and the ancient mystique Corey imparted on the name, and approved.

“Excellent,” said the newly-christened Thoth. “Now, I have more questions for you, Corey Vash, but my arrangement with your employer compels me to attend to his curiosity.”

“Thanks, ‘Thoth’,” Kamak said. The Worm’s enhanced senses stretch far beyond his lair, and gave him a general idea of almost everything that happened within the Paga For outpost. Hopefully that included details on the incidents that had been plaguing them. “On that note, we’ve had some unpleasant run-ins lately, including an assassin that apparently came from here. What do you know about that?”

“It is apparent his mission was fatally unsuccessful,” Thoth observed. He could sense the essence of the dead assassin lingering on the knife in Corey’s boot. “He was one of a dozen, all offered the same job. To hunt down your vessel and damage it in any way possible.”

“When did the deal go down?”

“Over several swaps, beginning twenty-nine swaps ago and ending eight later,” Thoth said. Kamak nodded. That put the deal beginning shortly after their encounter with the purple ship.

“Why are they after us?”

“I cannot say. There were curious but nonviolent inquiries into the nature of your ship. The aggressive actions began only after learning the composition of your crew.”

Kamak’s brow furrowed. That implied their initial encounter had been less premeditated than he had assumed. The campaign to kill Kamak and his crew had only escalated later.

“What were they offered?”

“Ah, that is a curious detail,” Thoth said. “Some were offered money. Others, an opportunity. It would seem there are those whose motivations for killing you run deeper than money.”

Disappointing, but not exactly surprising. Kamak knew very well he’d given a lot of people a lot of reasons to kill him.

“Among those hired, I would note one standout: a male Sturit.”

“Oh, so it is your fault,” Kamak said to Tooley.

“It’s a big universe, I’m not the only blue bitch in space,” Tooley snapped back. “Could be anything.”

“Yeah, I know,” Kamak said. He’d met other rogue Sturit in his time, he knew it was plenty likely this was unrelated to Tooley. He just wanted to annoy her for a moment. “What about the employer? Who was the one hiring?”

“Communications were made via proxy,” Thoth said. “The employer was never physically present. The courier acting on his behalf was a Gentanian, however.”

Considering Gentanians were the most prolific species in the universe, that particular bit of information was less than useless.

“Got anything else for me, bud?”

“Part information, part advice,” Thoth droned. “The neurological responses of the hunters implies the monetary offers were particularly generous, and the non-monetary offers equally motivating. Those who seek to kill you are particularly rich and particularly determined.”

“Fantastic, thanks for that,” Kamak sighed. “Corey, you mind answering a few questions for the Worm? If I don’t trade information I’m going to have to pay it with money.”

“Yeah, I got it,” Corey said. Three cycles and several hundred questions later, Corey began to regret agreeing.