Secret Intruder
Rimmi slithered into the chamber where
his master sat viewing space. A cold
and bottomless dark surrounded Or, his master, making its station a focal point
of fear. Alone at the helm, surrounded
in its domed command post by nearly three hundred and sixty degrees of empty
space, Or appeared disembodied: a creature that defied description. A translucent command seat beneath its
outrageous, toad-like form and a small control console, which allowed it to
guide the ship, were barely visible in the darkness. A billion stars behind its shadowy silhouette reminded Rimmi that
this ship had become his prison and was not the subterranean world in which he
had originally lived.
As he inched forward through the long
narrow corridor leading to the bridge, Rimmi felt as if he might fall off this
platform into infinite space.
Gradually, as part of a conquered
species on his master's planet, he had adapted to above ground civilization and
the differences in climate and terrain.
But never in his long life could he ever get use to this part of the
ship. It was not the place for a serpent,
whose claustrophobic world-view demanded at least four walls, a ceiling, and a
floor.
A feeling of weightlessness and
dizziness now gripped Rimmi. It was
suddenly cold out on the starlit bridge.
As he scanned the sphere, a planet loomed suddenly beneath them. To the master's right there also appeared a
large moon, which seemed to stand guard over the world below.
There was, Rimmi remembered on their
own planet, a terrible openness about the topography, but at least there had
been ground beneath him, caves to crawl into, and buildings to shield him from
the home planet's relentless sun. Here
on the bridge, except for tiny phosphorescent points, there was no light to
mark the trail. There had been, as he
passed through the corridor and until this startling moment, only the endless
blackness of space.
Back in the main vessel he had felt a
silence so deep and pervasive, compared to the tumult back home, that it caused
him the deepest despair. Now he was
confronted with an even worst fear: a fear of the unknown. A planet similar in appearance to his own
world loomed below the floating bridge.
It appeared almost before his very eyes, like a conjurer's trick
intended to trick the brain.
They had arrived at a new destination:
a point on the opposite end of the universe in which they had begun. It had been a long mission for them,
covering millions of light years and countless centuries, a journey in which
the master had been searching for just the right signs and portents, secretly
intruding upon thousands of worlds in its quest for facts. Rimmi had never once asked his master where
he was taking them and what they would find once they reached their
destination.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A special foreboding filled Rimmi as
he made his entrance onto the bridge.
Here in the control sphere, shining on Or's downcast face, the light of
the new planet cast up, in cold shafts, images that were pleasing to its great
eyes. As Rimmi watched, an eerie flicker
within the blackness grew, a land mass appeared and became fixed, enlarged, and
focused. It was part of the magic,
which allowed Or to capture images from time and space. Now that they were directly over a likely
sector, the technique became more a matter of magnification as it scanned the
planet: a vast mind focusing upon a large, mysterious world.
At this point, it could not have
explained its quest to the serpent, and yet it conveyed an excitement that the
serpent had not seen for many years.
Clearly there was something special about this planet to give his master
such a thrill.
For a moment the planet vanished as
the eyes were turned his way. Two great
beacons of light came from the cavity of its mind. Rimmi could see himself approaching the beacons: dark, slimy, and
horribly ugly. He did not like his
reflection, especially in his master's eyes.
But he held still, waiting for it to speak, as if his snapshot would soon
be taken, captured for all time.
Slowly now, by increments, Or lowered
its great eyes again, Remix’s reflection sliding from view. Blackness and then patches of light returned
as it probed the depths below. With the
precision of an astronomer, it focused upon a random portion of the planet's
surface. Over a strange landscape it
probed. A great civilization lay
beneath the shifting cloud masses, centered between a mountain range and an
ocean, stretching endlessly it seemed north and south. Closer and closer it focused, until it was
panning back and forth over one particular zone. Across an alien city of skyscrapers, which were interspersed with
roads, its gaze now traveled until reaching a likely spot.
A great metropolis, much larger but
far more primitive than one of their own cities, now loomed in Or's gaze.
"Look serpent," it pointed
"and tell me what you see."
". . . A place where bipeds
live," he replied carefully, ". . . only bipeds live in structures
like that. . . . There are long continuous roads everywhere and machines in
motion on them. In some places, where
there are bright lights, the machines are stopped, while in others, where there
are only endless corridors, they move continuously. There are also flying machines in the sky that look like sand
skimmers back home yet are more primitive.
Some of them land as if they cannot control gravity, while others hover
mysteriously in various spots. . . . I don't see the inhabitants, however,
because we are too far away, and yet I know they're there. This must be a crowded, fast-paced world
master, without population controls and breeding laws. I suppose it’s an excellent choice!"
After his reply, his master's
anomalous mass moved in a gesture of approval, the black crystals letting the
illusion fade, disappear, and his own terrible reflections return as he looked
up.
"What kind of world is this
serpent?" it asked cagily. "How would it be classed?"
"A world once similar but now
much different than our own," answered Rimmi promptly "but with less
water, more land, and a civilization constantly on the move."
"That's good serpent!" Or
nodded with approval. "Now I have
a name for it. Yes, . . . it's called
Earth. . . . My sensors are picking up random pieces of information from millions
of alien minds. I've never sensed so
much data in one sector at one time. I
sense something else serpent. This
world is very superstitious; it is nothing like worlds I've visited
before. It is filled with many beliefs
and many gods."
"I no longer believe in the
gods." Rimmi replied frankly. "I believe in your magic and the power
of this ship: it's become my religion. You are my god!"
"Well spoken serpent. You always know the right things to say,
even though it's not true. I've never
claimed to be anything more than a scientist to you. You will be the only one to know my secret. You were right to call the inhabitants
primitive, but they are also a religious breed. This has great promise.
As I make my entrance, I can either do so invisibly, so I will not
appear as a threat, or I can hide in their collective superstitions, camouflaged
as a spirit or one of their gods. Do
you have any idea what I could do with this world serpent?"
"Master, until now, I've kept
silent." Rimmi began to show anxiety. "You are the master; I am your
servant. It's not my place to complain.
. . . But is it safe to interfere with another world's religion or gods? What do I know about such things? It's true that you are a great scientist,
whom I worship as god. It's also true
that your magic is the only magic I know.
But what if there is a real god down below who doesn't want you meddling
in his affairs? Tell me great one, is
it worth the risk? Wouldn't it be
better just to slip down unnoticed as you've done countless times before,
gather your information, then return to the ship. Out here in space you are the master. . . Down there in that
crowded world, who knows what you'll become: a god, a magician, . . . a
devil? Take my humble advice and do
what you do best: gather data, perform a few experiments and exit this world. You are a scientist; I am
your faithful assistant. Satisfy your
curiosity, bring back some data, but leave their superstitions alone!"
"Serpent," Or grew
irritated, "as usual, true to form, you equivocate. Are you or are you not superstitious? If you do not believe in alien gods, what
does it matter what I do?"
"Those creatures and their
civilization are intelligent," Rimmi searched for just the right words
"nothing compared to your vast mind, but collectively--and they are a
multitude master--they might try even your powers!"
"Yes, . . . and it would be most
refreshing." Or murmured dreamily, as Rimmi began to squirm."
"I've visited many worlds serpent.
Never once was anyone been given the slightest notion I was there. . . .
I might manipulate a creature here and there and change the weather for better
or worse, but, after dabbling awhile, I'd get bored, make my exit, and return
to serve out my exile in this ship. I
remained invisible to them, a slight ambience, rise or lowering of temperature,
or troublesome breeze. Always, the
search was for data, curiosity guiding me.
Always, I left unnoticed, the current world intact and none the
wiser. But this time it will be
different serpent. This time, I will be
seen and heard. This time I come for
the sport. . . . I tell you Rimmi, I've
never seen the likes of this world before!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After a long pause in which its gaze
slowly lowered, Or's great orbs once again changed. It had, as always, a captive audience. The serpentine body of Rimmi coiled with expectation. Higher and higher Rimmi raised his head, his
furtive eyes drawn to his orbs. This
time, however, his master waited several moments until something appeared: a
long train of moving machines against a backdrop of buildings and more distant
clouds.
A new picture was developing that had
some relationship to the first, but there was a period of mystery added now for
effect. Captured in the shadow of time,
the orbs came closer and closer to the machines: twin beacons showing the same
scenes, zeroing in on one particular machine in which two bipeds now sat. Swaying back and forth, Rimmi flicked his
trident tongue in and out, faster and faster as the images took form.
There was a continual movement in Or's
eyes and unintelligible noises, obviously a language system of earth. At first, as Or brought them right up to the
machine, the sound of talking was faint: a form of communication that used the
mouth instead of the mind. Then the
volume was turned up for Rimmi as the features of these creatures became clear,
until two earth faces loomed hideously in each orb. Slowly now Rimmi slid forth to view the scene, curiosity drawing
him on.
". . . Awful!" he murmured
finally "Hair is growing on their heads and over their eyes. They're ugly! They have no grace or style as our people. They're the strangest looking bipeds I've
ever seen!"
"Yes," Or nodded
thoughtfully "they're strange looking all right. What else do you notice? . . . Come on, serpent. It's not simply their appearance or their sounds. Look closely at their orifices and
appendages."
Rimmi continued sliding forth but
stopped a respectful distance from its eyes.
"Yes, I see master. They
talk with their mouths and gesture with their hands." "Very curious!" he squinted.
". . . Intelligent beings that do not have mind control. Your
possibilities are limitless!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
For several moments Rimmi watched
these images, without the slightest notion of what they meant. What was the significance of these bipeds in
this long stream of machinery? It was a
totally unfamiliar scene to him, as alien as another world could be. He knew that the bipeds he had seen up close
were important. Their selection was not
a random event. He could also see, in
his cautious, serpentine mind, trouble ahead.
What did it mean? Who were they
to command the attention of the great Or?
It was obvious to Rimmi that his master was tired of the old
formulas. Data was no longer his
primary goal. At last, he was going to
do something for sport. He was going to have an impact on this
world!
The bipeds talked in a language that
Or tried to translate and impart mentally to him. For the first time in many years, he saw his master struggle with
input. There were too many
irregularities in the alien's speech. Its
rhythm was erratic and incredibly slow.
Their strange speech began to annoy Rimmi. He had never heard such chatter.
For awhile, as Or allowed them to linger in its great orbs, Rimmi sat
there on its bridge and witnessed the antics of these men, positive that they
were important in his master's plan to invade Earth.
For a serpent, who had seen millions
of worlds in the master's eyes, a pair of strange looking and strange talking
bipeds would not normally have generated interest. But, because of Or's sudden interest in them, he was
curious. He had not seen his master
this excited for a very long time.
Already Or was beginning his amorphous change, which was only precipitated
by climactic events. A more appropriate
response seemed in order, therefore: something profound or at least flattering.
. . But what did one say to something that continually changed. . . something
that was far more interesting than the images it conveyed?
On Or's home planet, Rimmi recalled,
evolution was said to have begun as a primal blob. From such a blob now, Or transformed into several stages of the
planet's animal life: worm-like through fish-like and amphibian-like and then
lizard-like creatures. From something
resembling a reptile, higher levels of animal life also paraded before Rimmi’s
eyes, until it reached it's normal form.
Remaining now in its natural state, Or
stared at the serpent, his large black eyes holding the images still for the
servant to view.
In a playful manner, the menagerie of
shapes and sounds exhibited by Or shifted into reverse into the lower forms of
life. His master's eyes were his main
concern: direct communicators to the planet below. But his sense of awe continued as it moved down the evolutionary
scale. Fish-like, slug-like, and then blob-like
creatures paraded before his eyes. A
hideous bubbling and gurgling followed until it reached a likely spot.
As something at the far edge of
madness then it froze. After the
imprint of this latest horror filled his mind, Rimmi's interest shifted
reluctantly back to his eyes.
Unable to speak now, the great
glistening glob motioned to him in that characteristic amoeba-like movement
seen beneath microscopes. Knowing he
must continue, Rimmi groped passed the sublime for meaning in the mundane:
"these beings have been chosen for something. They are very strange looking but very important to your mission
on Earth, whatever that is. . . I still can't understand what they're saying. So far you've transmitted to me only
meaningless words."
Unable to respond yet, Or motioned
excitedly while his mouth formed. At
this stage, his master had mutated into a mushroom-like organism, still
retaining the same monstrous eyes.
"You can't decipher this
master." Rimmi declared with a shrug. "You're going to have to probe
their minds like you've done before. I
respectfully advise against this. This
time you might again drive the aliens mad!"
Watching the two bipeds stop their
machine and climb out, Rimmi noted all of their seemingly pointless movements,
including the point when the taller biped spat onto the ground.
"They're a vile folk
master!" he shuttered. "On Grom that would be a grave insult--a
declaration of war." "And now the other is spitting on the ground
too." he made a face. "These creatures are disgusting! Isn't there an attractive side to this
world? Why bother with such a group?"
Expecting a rebuke, Rimmi drew back
pensively into a serpentine pose. The
great Or, who had seemed to be amused until now, studied the serpent, as Rimmi
watched its eyes. As the bipeds walked
up to several other similar creatures by the road, one of them carried a piece
of equipment that reminded him of a primitive probe. While the shorter biped held a stick in his hands, a long cord
connected to the other alien's equipment must have gathered input from the
other bipeds, and it was obvious that the equipment on the taller biped's
shoulder was taking visual input as well.
Rimmi had seen much more interesting things in the master's eyes: stars
exploding, planets forming, and incredible life forms much uglier or far more
attractive than what he had seen so far.
But it was what was going on below these orbs that continued to distract
him now.
Slimy green stalactites, as the
formations in a dank, dark cave now dripped down from Or's jaw. As it tried to speak, they gradually evolved
into primal teeth in a primordial head, as part of a creature again resembling
a toad.
It was back to his normal shape.
". . . Come closer servant,"
it finally uttered "so you'll have a front row seat. . . That's right,
close enough to look right in."
"Now tell me," it coaxed him gently "what do you think of
them so far?"
"From what you've shown me,"
Rimmi replied carefully "it's hard to say. Obviously your more interested in the shorter one; he's the one
you zero in on when they speak. And yet
the taller one holds the machine.
Surely, he must have the power!"
Always cautious when he spoke, he
listened with a patient ear as Or described this scene. After explaining to Rimmi that this was Earth's
method of gathering input for machines similar to its orbs, (he translated more
clearly what he had learned). The
shorter biped was asking other bipeds questions. Perhaps he was a scientist, like itself, or maybe it was an
important ritual on earth. These
actions confounded Rimmi, even when his master tried to explain. But the gist of it was that the shorter
biped was probing other bipeds minds in order to put their input into the
machine which Or believed was similar to primitive orb-like device invented
long ago on Grom.
Or was obviously making some kind of
point and would make it in his own good time.
As he had done in situations before, Rimmi quietly waited for the proper
time to speak. He did not care what his
master was up to just so long as it did not effect him. Although his plan made no sense at all yet,
he would play along until it did.
As they spoke, their ship was coming
closer and closer to earth. Rimmi, who
had been absorbed in his master's countenance and the eerie message in his
eyes, realized finally with a shutter that they were suddenly within landing
range of the planet. Since the Groman
vessel could not land on such a populated world without drawing attention, Or
would break through their atmosphere disguised as a meteorite. Rimmi had never seen his master do this
before. He was filled with terror when
Or motioned for him to leave the bridge.
Perhaps this particular transformation would be too painful for him to
watch or his master was merely showing his eccentricity, but Or wanted to be
alone now.
After the serpent disappeared into the corridor
leading from the bridge, Or turned to the translucent floor at his feet. Reaching to the control console with his
left hand, reached down with his right hand and touched the translucent
floor. A barely perceptible sphere
appeared, as he touched a control button and then the floor. The timer was set for him to be ejected from
the sphere. From his current misshapen
shape now, he exerted all his energies to make the transformation work. Not only did he have to move backwards into
his planet's evolution but he had to resemble inanimate matter. The primal blob, which was normally its
lowest level, had to drop one step further: into a primal lump of matter.
As the master gathered itself into its
lowest common denominator, it wondered if it was not going too far. What if it landed on a populated zone and
killed many of the creatures below?
That would be a poor start. What
if it had miscalculated its invincibility and burned up as would any other
meteorite entering a planet's atmosphere?
That would be the end.
On the other hand, how else could he
enter this world incognito? And then it
struck the great Or, who had served most of his long life in exile, that he was
tired of being incognito. As the Groman
meteorite hurled to earth, a peculiar impulse grew in Or to expand itself upon
impact. When the meteorite finally hit
a patch of ocean along the Pacific coast, it found itself exploding forth from
the water as a water spout, rising to the sky as a wide arc mist, gathering
itself together finally into a cloud which managed to take on its original
shape.
From the bridge now, Rimmi peaked
through transparent window encircling the sphere but could see nothing but
darkness now that the ship had rotated the sphere out of range. Rimmi slid forward to peek into the viewing
scope hanging down into the bridge, his eyes unable to follow the descent of
his master, his mind bewildered by his hasty exit. This was, for the time being, his ship. For some reason, he could not yet fathom, Or had abandoned his
normal format. A mixture of excitement,
anxiety, and fear now gripped the serpent as he contemplated his master
departure. He was safe this far out
into space. With the shield that surrounded
the vessel nothing could penetrate its bizarre design. . . So why was he filled
with such an uncompromising dread? . . Why did he feel as if something terrible
was about to begin?