Hullo there Sparks!
Happy Tuesday and a very merry unbirthday to you all!
Thinking about how to introduce this one…
Honestly, I’ve struck blank except for the fact that every situation that involves more than one person, every story, has multiple lived experiences. Everyone involved brings their perspective to the table and it influences how they perceive whatever happens there.
Something @Frank said about the two different narrators here really hit home. The idea that Misty and Logan are joint storytellers, and you get to see this part of the story through both of their individual perspectives, and you get to experience their unique insights into each scene…
I think it’s one of those thing that have always fascinated me - the way perspective influences one’s perception and experience of different situations. Maybe that’s why I decided to give you both sides here. To be fair, Luke’s side of this encounter would likely have been more helpful to you readers than Logan's experience of it has been, but I love how last week’s post went. It’s almost like Logan took the role of a more objective reporter, more so than Luke would have been.
Now I give you the subjective experience. I wonder if you’ll find it as fascinating as I have.
INDEX | Chapter 5 | Scenes 1 & 2 | Scenes 3 & 4 | Scenes 5 - 8 | Scenes 9 & 10 | Scenes 11 & 12 | Scenes 13 - 16 | Scene 17 | Scene 18 | Next Scene →
Previously: After Elle starts giving Luke trouble during his language studies lessons, the Planetary Guard starts to lose faith in his ability to get the answers they want out of her. Logan watches the scene that unfolds when the PG supervisor takes matters into his own hands.
Classes as normal they said. Just practice they said. Then they bring me some Lesser scum to “observe?” I analyze the strange energy signature as we walk to the library.
I’ve never seen a live Serp before and I’m a little curious. Even though they aren’t Elder, I think I heard somewhere that they are known for telepathy. I heard that they are as good as the hackers back home. There’s no match for the Mind Smith though. James taught me well.
“Mr. Darrell,” he says in a nasal tone when Luke introduces us. He shows me his sharp little teeth and bows as if he expects me to acknowledge him. The last time I acknowledged a Lesser being, that scaly Drakisthan at the party, Tom knocked me out and I got locked up in my room. Curiosity satisfied, and instinctive defenses in place, this one isn’t worthy of my attention. I don’t even look in its direction.
Luke is on fire today. First, he gives me a difficult equation, two variables with fractions and factoring, it only takes a moment to solve. Then it’s the circle-triangle thing. I use the formula and have it in a few seconds. Next, it’s a mechanical advantage one on a curve, easy peasy! Then he starts on the periodic table and chemical equations. Ugh, come on Doctor Luke! Challenge me!
For some time, Luke’s quickfire questions and my rapid responses take up all of my attention and I don’t have time to think about the Serp watching from the back. But with my energy up, eventually, the lack of activity starts to wear. My head is hurting. It is getting hard to focus.
In between questions that show no sign of slowing, I wonder if Luke will be upset with me if I walk out of here. I can feel my energy brimming. Flexing my hands, it’s like fire just under my skin. It’s getting less fun, and harder to sit still. I start to wonder how upset he will be.
Luke looks at me, waiting for an answer. I didn’t even hear the question.
The clock says it’s been over two hours that I’ve barely moved. The Serp guy is still there, looking at me with his large yellow, slit pupilled eyes. There is no humanity in his presence. I won’t acknowledge him. Telerans are an Elder race, like Manorians and Humans. We are evolved, bipedal mammals, with large brains and smooth skin. Elder and somehow related, because, despite our unique characteristics and the facts that we are scattered across the universe and we evolved at different rates, which makes it seem impossible, we all have the same physical features. I was always taught that Telerans are one of the oldest and noblest of the Elder Races, evidenced by our unique Vital energy barrier and unparalleled strength. Humans are the youngest, though still Elder. I chew on my top lip as my father’s earliest lessons flit through my most closely guarded memories.
“What color are your eyes, Elle?” Luke asks out of nowhere. A personal question? For a moment I am not sure what I should do, but he looks insistent. I answer honestly.
“What color is your hair?”
I answer.
“How old are you?”
My instinct is to write eight maybe nine by now, but I know that’s not right. I give the answer I’ve been taught.
“How long have you been staying here with us?” I blink. Surely this is pointless. I write two words.
"Where were you before you came here?" His tone is gentle as always, his voice is smooth and soft. Why are you asking me these things Luke? Is it for that scum? My eyes want to look behind me to see the Serp in his easy chair in the corner, but he would see me looking. I write down “Home,” for Luke and underline it for good measure, to let him know I’m done dancing to this tune.
“Who are your parents?” Luke asks without pausing as if nothing were amiss. I put down the stylus. My answers have run out.
The Serp rustles before he moves. There’s a hissing that underscores his words. Just like Luke’s voice takes on a silkiness, Darrell makes a sound like gas escaping. I know it can’t touch me, but it irritates me, more than it should.
“Where were you born, Elle?” IT asks me. This leather-skinned Lesser scum has no right to address me! I bite down and keep my eyes on my writing pad.
After a few moments, Luke stands closer, and whispers “Try.”
I make myself scratch out my defiance, for Luke’s sake. The Serp challenges my answer, still from behind, with Luke beside me, imploring me to play along.
I write the words, messily. Luke defers to the Serp. Earthlings are strange. I think and draw out two more words on the pad. Words to insult, to wound.
Luke, you’re the master of this house and leader of this family. You are powerful and noble and your kindness knows no bounds. How are you inferior in rank to this Lesser Serp that stands before you? Why do you let it dominate you?
“Are the names of your parents also a secret?” It snarks at me. I can barely contain myself.
It pelts me with questions, oblivious. Oblivious is a good word, appropriate.
I look around, wishing for a sign, a way out. Logan’s loyalty lies with Luke, he will not defy him now. Not for me. Luke is as trapped as I am.
The Serp approaches, demanding that I write something. Luke all but pleads with me to cooperate. I pick up the stylus, gripping it tightly, feeling the plastic bend between my fingers and scrawl, “No,” breathing hard until he puts his hands down in front of me on the desk. Too close. I feel cornered. I can smell the slightly musky odor of its body. I can see the slight film of perspiration on its face. Irritated as I am, it’s all I can do to hold myself back.
I swallow down the violent images that flood my thoughts. I can see the moves I would make exactly. I can imagine the sensation of breaking its bones. I can smell the blood, imagining it spreading in a red pool on the hardwood floor as I look right into its disgusting yellow irises while the light in them fades.
“No!” The word rises all on its own and I scream into the filthy creature’s face.
And then I run.
I know I have done wrong. I know there will be trouble for Luke. I also know that this is the lesser evil.
My hands are shaking. The energy is too strong. I strip off my layers of warm clothes as I run for the pool, leaving my coat, jeans, shoes, and socks, in a string down the corridor. By the time I reach the gym, I am in a T-shirt and underwear, sweat dripping down my back, the green glow up to my elbows.
When I emerge steaming at the far end I don’t know how much of the wetness on my face is chlorine and how much is saline, but the glow has subsided and I don’t feel like exercising my training anymore.
Next Time: Elle’s defiance, predictably, doesn’t go down well with the PG.
Thanks so much for reading! If you like, please:
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and as always, I love hearing what you think so, feel free to:
I can sympathize with Elle. Really just want to kill the snake, but for some reason I have to be nice to the snake. So infuriating.
This flows so well! Well done!