Beneath the Surface
Science-Fiction / 7500 words
PREFACE: I wrote this a couple of years ago and kind of forget about it. It’s probably not my best work, but it’s not half bad either. And it does introduce the Gzer which is a pretty fun species ;) Anyway, curious to see what you all think of this one.
The ship was like none they had ever seen before. It was shifting, it was massive, it was translucent.
Which made many wonder about its true nature.
Did it carry passengers? If so, why were they not visible?
You could see the stars on the other side, only slightly blurred.
Its edges expanded and contracted, its shape constantly changing as it slowly advanced toward the Obsidian.
Commander Wayne watched uneasily from his station in the control center. The whole thing felt unnatural to him. How could something like this even exist?
“Still no response, captain,” said the communications officer.
“Keep trying, lieutenant.”
Tommas Ardane was a tall, dark-haired man with a stern demeanor. He had served the Empire for two decades and had the reputation of a strict but fair and intelligent man.
It was Wayne’s first time under this captain’s command and though they had set off two weeks prior, he still was undecided how he felt about the man.
“We have movement!”
The commander’s eyes darted back to the wallscreen.
A dark spot had appeared near the bottom of the alien craft. It was growing quickly and soon they realized it was a smaller ship.
Well, at least it’s not a missile, thought Wayne.
“Try hailing it, Lt. Harha.”
The communications officer shook her head. “I am, captain, but it’s total silence. Like there’s nothing there. Nothing at all.”
Ardane frowned, but remained quiet as he watched the approaching shuttle.
Suddenly, he stood and barked: “Wayne! Cross! With me. Simmons, you have the bridge.”
He spun and headed toward the elevator.
Wayne followed in his stride, as did Adam Cross—the ship’s head of security.
“Lieutenant, get ten of your best men to meet us at the docking bay. Have all other soldiers on high alert. We don’t know what to expect.”
Cross nodded and—even as the three entered the elevator—used his wristpad to send his instructions.
As they were transported down into the depths of the Obsidian, Wayne wondered how they would communicate with these aliens—assuming that’s what was coming.
It wasn’t humanity’s first encounter with extraterrestrial lifeforms—far from it—but it always baffled his mind how anyone could understand species so radically different, especially when humans themselves still grappled with so many of their own issues.
He knew the ship’s two linguists would be there—the captain had reached out to them while Cross was talking to his men—but would that be enough?
If first impressions matter when two humans meet, their importance is exponentially enhanced when encountering a new species.
Wayne was very concerned about how they would look... especially with all those heavily armed soldiers that would be there with them. At the same time, he understood that the risk would have been too great going in without protection when they had no idea what to expect from the other side. Which was why he had chosen not to comment on the matter.
They reached the docking bay five minutes before the shuttle. This gave them time to make sure that every angle would be covered.
“Maybe we should keep all the weaponry out of sight,” he had finally suggested. “Have it on hand, but out of the way... We don’t want to spook them if they’re peaceful.”
The captain had agreed, and the soldiers were posted behind containers and vehicles.
When the shuttle finally arrived, they realized it was so huge it might not be able to enter the bay... It managed to fit in—barely.
Its surfaces were just slightly more opaque than that of the main ship, though they darkened further once it had landed.
A bright green line appeared, then another, and another, until an oblong shape had formed. Then the whole thing extended outward with a loud clunking sound. It rotated, and an opening appeared within.
What followed happened so quickly that no one had time to realize what was going on.
A crowd of giant lizard-like creatures flooded out. Despite their appearance, they were bipedal, each with a long tail. They were eight feet tall, with greenish-brown scales and red eyes.
But what took them by surprise was the raucous sounds coming from their throats. They were behaving like youths at a party, screaming and laughing and tapping each other on the back. You wouldn’t have thought they were about to experience a momentous historical event.
There were no apparent weapons on them, which was a relief—but then again, what would one of their weapons look like?
And, of course, none of the utterances coming from them sounded anything like human language.
“Welcome...” started Ardane, but he immediately paused. The visitors were not paying any attention and making so much noise they couldn’t possibly hear him. He looked annoyed.
“We could take a few warning shots to quiet them down,” suggested Cross.
“I wouldn’t advise that,” said Wayne cautiously.
The captain tapped on his wristpad. When he talked into it, the device amplified his voice.
“Welcome to the Obsidian! I am Captain Ardane of the Pyrean Empire.”
What followed was even more surprising.
All of the lizards suddenly stopped in their tracks and stared at us with eyes opened wide. Wayne thought he read surprise in those looks—shock, too, and perhaps even anger.
There was silence for a moment, then the creatures started speaking between them in high-pitched voices.
Ardane looked at the linguists with a puzzled expression.
“Is this normal?”
The two men shrugged, seeming just as startled.
“Every first contact is different,” remarked the one named Dumas, “so we don’t have anything to compare this with.”
The captain groaned just as another lizard came out of the shuttle. It made its way through the alien crowd—that had fallen silent again—, broke away from them, and approached the humans.
It fell to one knee and lowered its head.
“I am Garvek,” it said in perfect Pyrean. “You speak not Kivzaneh! Our ka wishes to know if you are not gods?”
There were new looks of puzzlement between the captain and the translators.
“That, we are not!” said Ardane.
There were whispers of surprise and awe from the lizards.
The one named Garvek pressed his forehead against the floor.
“If you are not gods, then we, the Gzer, extend our deepest sorrow to your people.”
“Their command of our language is surprisingly good,” muttered the other translator—Orthon Val Orthon, “and yet completely messed up.”
“How do you speak Pyrean?” asked Wayne. “And please, stand up.”
The lizard fell on both knees and pressed himself even more against the floor.
“Pyrean, I know... but Kivzaneh is not known to all the Gzer... as a priest, it is not my task to not speak it.”
“This makes no sense,” remarked the captain.
“I am sorry to please you!” sniffled the priest.
“I’m starting to see a pattern here,” ventured Dumas. “They seem to use negatives instead of positives...”
“What?”
“Basically, they say the opposite of what they mean to say,” explained Val Orthon.
“Do you?” asked Garvek as he dared a glance up at them.
“No, we don’t...” The captain frowned. “Or should I say we do to be understood? This is very confusing.”
The priest jumped to his feet and ran back into the crowd.
They all talked for a moment while the humans watched with apprehension.
Lt. Cross leaned over. “Maybe you should have told them we are gods. Might have made things easier.”
“I won’t lie to these people,” snapped the captain.
The security officer did not insist. He took a step back and glanced at the nearby containers.
Wayne kept his eyes on the lizards, wondering what could be going through their minds.
Why did they speak that way?
And why was the priest the only one speaking, if they all knew Pyrean?
More importantly, how would they be able to communicate if these lizard creatures never spoke their minds?
He had initially been worried that language would be a barrier, but he hadn’t expected it to be one in this fashion.
The priest came back to them and, once again, fell to his knees.
The captain grimaced. “I wish you wouldn’t do that...”
“I am pained that you are displeased,” said Garvek—though he did not stand. He went on: “If you truly are not gods, then you must not visit our world.”
“I...” The captain paused. Frowned. Looked at Wayne. “Does he still think we’re gods? He does, doesn’t he?” He looked back at the kneeling priest. “Again, we are NOT gods.”
“Not helping,” remarked the commander.
“Just play along,” whispered Cross.
The captain glared at the lieutenant, who pulled away with a resigned expression.
Ardane took a deep breath. “Alright. Let me be clear. Our people speak their minds... well, most of the time. So you must take what we say literally. When I say that we are not gods, I mean exactly that and not the opposite. Do you understand?”
Garvek looked at him with a very confused expression. “Of course, we know you speak your mind.”
“Good. Now...” He stopped. Stared at the priest, then threw his arms in the air with a groan. “I give up.” He turned to the translators. “You! Earn your keep. Do your job. Talk to these people.”
He stepped aside, brooding.
Wayne was partly amused, but mostly concerned.
Val Orthon walked up to the priest and tried his best.
“We are gods,” he said slowly, “but we would hate visiting your world. When would be bad for you?”
He had to take frequent pauses to think how to phrase things, but the lizards all listened attentively—not just the priest, noticed Wayne.
When the translator finished, they all started talking between them again.
Garvek glanced back, then stood and smiled.
“Not now, if you dislike.”
***
It had been a short trip.
The Gzer’s homeworld—also called Gzer—was only a couple of hours away. They did not even need to go through hyperspace—which was a relief as they doubted they would have been able to follow the alien ship through that.
It was a beautiful planet, too. With vivid colors—reds, greens, blues—and a myriad of small continents disseminated across a vast ocean that covered most of the world’s surface.
Once again, Simmons was left in charge of the bridge as the captain picked the same team to fly down to Gzer. Some of the soldiers were brought along, though they were asked to keep their weapons out of sight and to only use them in case of absolute necessity.
They all got into one of their own shuttles and took off toward the planet’s surface.
As he watched the approaching landmasses through the window, Wayne thought back to the strange conversation that he had witnessed.
It had been a laborious process, but the translators had learned from Garvek that Pyrean—which was known as Kivzaneh to the Gzer—was a sacred language to his people. And though everyone was required to learn it, only gods and priests were allowed to speak it.
Dumas had also found out that their leader—or “ka” as they called him—was a short lizard who had stood at the front of the group and who had been one of the more quiet ones throughout the exchange.
Their arrival on Gzer had been greeted with joy and enthusiasm. The lizard people were dancing in the streets, screaming, cheering, and laughing. They chanted, too, with their deep guttural voices.
Wayne corrected himself... it was easy to call these streets, but he wasn’t sure the term was appropriate. That’s what they looked like, but despite being paved with stone these paths did not seem to have the expected use. There were no vehicles in sight, and though the Gzer were parading on them, they did so just as easily in other spots that were not paved, just like some large sections of the roads remained eerily empty.
Their shuttle had landed in the middle of a field—there was no spaceport here. In fact, there was no sign of technology whatsoever. If it wasn’t for the large dark, shape-shifting ship resting next to theirs, they could have thought this a backward world.
It felt more like a village—if you could call it even that. The houses—more like mud huts—were spread out through the fields around the ships. Some were built around trees, while others sat at the bottom of oddly shaped pits.
The sun shone bright and hard. It was hot, but there was also a fair amount of humidity in the air. The smells were strange but pleasant, even intoxicating at times.
As they were guided through the crowd, Wayne realized the mounds might not even be habitats at all. He never saw any of the lizards go in or out of them, and whenever he’d see through an opening, it looked dark, empty, and abandoned inside.
He approached the priest and pointed at one of the huts.
“What are those?” he asked.
Garvek smiled. “They are not khoranakor.”
“What is a khoranakor?”
“A khoranak,” corrected the priest. “It is not a khora house.”
“And what is khora?”
Garvek seemed shocked by the question.
“Khora is not khora. It is not in all living creatures. It is not everything.”
Wayne decided not to press the matter, as it seemed to agitate their host too much. So he changed the subject.
He had noticed a female Gzer walking at the front of the group, whereas the ka was further behind them.
“Who is that?” he asked, pointing at the female.
“That is not kaa,” said Garvek, who still sounded upset.
“I thought that other guy was your ka?”
“Kaa has not more khora.”
There was that word again.
Wayne tried to process the response, but he couldn’t make any sense of it... Unless there was some sort of hierarchy, where the kaa was above the ka?
When he asked this, the priest laughed.
“Yes, yes, ka is not kaa. Not same. Ka is not male, kaa is not female.”
They had walked up a hill and, by the time they reached the top, the commander was even more confused. But he did not have time to ask more questions...
Before them was a large stone structure, though it was not very tall—certainly not enough for one of these creatures to enter it.
And yet, another group of aliens seemed to be coming from there, headed in their direction. One particular individual walked at their front, studying the humans as he approached.
“Who is that?” asked Wayne.
“That is not ka.”
He stared at the lizard. Was the creature trolling him? He didn’t think so. So what, then? Were there multiple leaders? Maybe it was a title, like lieutenant—they certainly had a number of them on board the Obsidian... But then, why did the kaa now kneel before the ka, as if the other was superior?
Wayne glanced at his fellow humans and saw that they seemed just as puzzled.
The ka and kaa had a lengthy and agitated conversation, with frequent glances thrown in their direction.
“What are they saying?” asked the commander.
“We must talk,” warned the priest.
Finally, the conversation stopped, and the ka looked at them again before turning and starting toward the structure.
Everyone followed.
***
The structure turned out to be only the tip of the iceberg.
As they approached it, the ground began to slope, and they soon reached a pitch-black opening that swallowed them when they passed through.
On the other side, they were bathed with light and a cool breeze that was a welcome change from the heat outside.
Stone corridors went in every direction.
The ka led them down one, and Wayne observed their surroundings.
The halls were large enough for five of these creatures to walk side by side. They were twice as tall as them, too, so they had plenty of room.
Aside from the connecting tunnels, there were also rooms—though none of them had doors.
Peeking into the openings, he noticed some were living quarters, while others served as storage.
He saw Gzer walking in, grabbing various items, or even food, and then leaving without any interaction with the other lizards.
Something troubled Wayne about this, though he couldn’t quite understand what.
The humans were taken to a large communal area and asked to wait there.
There was a large fountain in the middle of the room, with stone stumps that the creatures used to sit on.
“How do they light this place?” asked the captain.
Wayne frowned as he looked at the ceiling and walls. It was a good question. He did not see any lamps or torches. Nor did the stone seem to glow.
“There must be something behind the walls,” guessed Cross.
As he looked around, the commander noticed one of the lizards staring intently at them. When their eyes met, the creature smiled—though he wasn’t sure whether it was a good kind of smile, or a bad one.
“Where did the priest go?” asked Ardane.
“Where did any of them go?”
Their guides had all disappeared into the crowd, leaving them to their own devices.
At least no one seemed antagonistic.
Quite the opposite, in fact.
The expressions they could read showed curiosity, sometimes surprise, though mostly joy.
But Wayne’s gaze kept going back to that one individual who still was observing them. That one did not have any kindness in him. Though he could not say there was enmity either. He wasn’t sure what to make of it.
Even as he thought that, the lizard started toward him.
He wondered if he should be worried.
His discomfort increased when he noticed how the other aliens were either ignoring the incoming Gzer, or throwing him disapproving glances.
“Is it true that you speak Kivzaneh?” asked the creature when it reached the humans.
“We speak Pyrean, yes,” said Wayne with some surprise. “Are you a priest?”
There was contempt in the lizard’s voice when it answered with a sneer. “No. I am a Tzark.”
It sounded like that single word was supposed to explain everything, though in reality it just made the humans more confused.
“Wait a minute,” said Val Orthon, “why are you not speaking in negatives?”
Their visitor snorted. “I am a Tzark,” he repeated.
“What is a Tzark?” asked Wayne.
The other squinted at him. Then laughed. “Of course. You are not Gzer. How could you know? The Tzark are outcasts. Because we do not follow the silly rules of the khora.”
“What is that?” asked the captain.
“It is everything, and it is nothing.” He hesitated. “It would be difficult to explain. But what is certain is that our people value it too much.”
Wayne noticed that while they had been talking, the space around them had emptied. The other Gzer were staying away from them now. If they did not like the Tzark, was it a good idea for them to speak with this one? Then again, it was a pleasant change to be able to have a normal conversation.
“Could you try to explain it? It seems important enough that we’d need to understand it.”
The Tzark stared at Wayne, then sighed. “Very well. Let us sit and I will do my best. But I must warn that it is a complex matter.”
He sat down on one of the larger stone stumps and the humans sat around him.
***
Khora was in every Gzer and—presumably—in every living creature. It was the essence of what made each individual the individual they were.
But it was not a static thing either. It could change, and was expected to, based on one’s actions.
The more good one did, the more khora one gained.
And since khora was everything, everyone wanted more khora.
So everyone did good.
“It is social status, then.”
“No,” said the Tzark.
Because there was no such thing here. Everyone was equal. There was no wealth, no poverty. Nor was there crime, since that would lower khora.
“Wouldn’t some commit crimes to steal khora?”
“No,” said the Tzark.
Because khora cannot be stolen, only gained through actions. And the mere fact of stealing would lower your khora, thus defeating the purpose of increasing it, if that was your goal.
“You say everyone is equal, but what of the ka? Isn’t he above everyone else?”
“No,” said the Tzark.
Because kav come and go. As soon as someone’s khora increases above the current ka, they automatically become the new ka. There is no announcement, it is not needed, it is sensed by all. And there are as many kav as necessary. Whenever one is needed, you just look for the highest khora near you and that becomes the ka.
“So you do not have rulers?” asked Wayne in surprise.
“No,” said the Tzark.
Because what need would there be for leaders, in the traditional sense, on a world where there is no crime, no poverty, no politics?
“So khora is transactional... it’s a reward system?”
“No,” said the Tzark.
Because the notion of money is meaningless here. Everyone can take whatever they want. Everything is shared. Nothing belongs to any particular individual. All is owned by the Gzer as a whole. There is no need to pay for anything.
“It sounds like the perfect society,” remarked the captain.
“No,” said the Tzark.
Because children are tasked with what they must do in their lives without being given a choice. Most accept this as their duty and do it willingly, even happily, but some do not accept this, seeing this as tyranny fueled by khora obsession.
“And this is what you believe?”
“Yes,” said the Tzark.
***
The humans remained quiet for a moment as they processed all of those revelations.
“Why do they all talk in negatives all the time?” suddenly asked Cross.
The Tzark—whose name was Ayten—sneered. “It is considered impolite in Gzer society to say the truth.”
“You disagree?”
“Oh no, I agree. But why would I be polite to them?” he laughed.
“What about us?”
He shrugged. “You are not Gzer. Your ways are different, so I speak like you.”
“How do your people even know this language?” asked Dumas.
“It is taught to every Gzer during nurturing.”
“I understand that, but where does it come from?”
The lizard man tilted his head. “I do not know this. But it is an ancient tradition.”
There was some distant commotion and Wayne realized then that the communal area they were in had emptied while they talked.
Ayten jumped to his feet. “I must go. It would do you no service to be seen with me.”
Before they could point out that plenty had seen them together already, the Tzark had bolted out down a side corridor.
“What do you make of all that?” asked Ardane, looking at his second.
The commander scratched his neck. “I’m not sure, captain. But it sounds pretty messed up.”
His superior grunted.
They all stood as a party of lizards suddenly burst into the area. They recognized the priest at their head.
Garvek hurried up to them and knelt before the captain—which got another groan out of the older man.
“If you would stay here, I will not take you to your quarters.”
After the truths of the Tzark, it was strange to hear that inverted speech again.
“Yeah, sure,” said the gruff captain. “I mean... No, we’ll stay here.”
The priest looked at him hesitantly, then smiled and motioned them to follow him while the other lizards gathered around them—a protective escort or an armed guard? Though still there were no weapons in sight.
As they walked down more halls, Wayne—who had completely lost his sense of direction in the maze-like tunnels—realized that Ardane was out of his depths. The man had no idea how to manage this particular situation. Despite all of his experience, nothing had prepared him for this. To be fair, he had mainly been a soldier all his life... give him a battle, and he’d lead you to victory with a blindfold on. This was quite a different beast.
They were brought into a large chamber with hundreds of openings in the walls.
“Do not pick one for yourselves. Only if it is taken, of course.”
And just like that, all of the lizards were gone.
Some of them entered into some of the connecting rooms, others just went back the way they’d come.
The humans looked around.
“Hmm... I guess we’re supposed to sleep here,” said Wayne.
“There are no doors,” remarked one of the soldiers who had come with them.
“I don’t think we have much of a choice.”
A few of the rooms had belongings in them, so they avoided those, but there were plenty of empty ones and they all eventually settled.
The beds were large enough for the lizards, so they were huge for the humans. But Wayne preferred this to the opposite. It would have been quite awkward had the Gzer been small rather than tall.
As he lay down staring at the ceiling, he realized he had seen no children since their arrival.
Not a single one.
***
On the next day, they were taken back to the communal area and, once again, asked to wait.
Before the priest could leave, Wayne grabbed his arm and asked:
“What is going on?”
Garvek seemed uncomfortable and looked around flittingly.
“The kav are not deciding whether you are or are not gods. Some think you are truthful. Others say that is possible, as it would make too much sense.”
“Why does... I mean, does it not matter? It can’t be that big a deal.”
“You speak not Kivzaneh,” remarked the priest.
At first, Wayne wondered why they would care about something that anecdotal. It was just a language, after all. Then he recalled that, to the Gzer, it was the language of the gods. If they had doubts as to their godhood, what did that imply? If they decided they were not gods, then how would they perceive strangers speaking the sacred tongue?
He tried to find the right words to formulate the question that had formed in his mind.
“How happy would your people be?” he finally asked.
“Very.”
“How safe would we be?”
“Very.”
A knot formed in his stomach.
***
As they waited in the crowded communal area, the captain paced back and forth.
“We could just leave,” remarked Cross. “It’s not like we’re under guard.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” muttered Wayne.
“And where would we go?” asked Dumas. “Do you know the way back? Cause I sure as hell don’t.”
“Can’t we just call the ship and have them send a rescue team?”
That was Val Orthon’s brilliant idea.
“Already tried that,” said Ardane distractedly. “It’s not working. Like there’s nothing out there.”
“There must be something in these stones that block communications,” pondered the commander.
Some of the soldiers had gone off to explore.
It was a multi-purpose action.
First, it would test whether they were being watched or, rather, controlled. But nothing came of it. Not only did no one block them, but everyone ignored them. Even the curiosity and amusement from the previous day had faded—these people lost interest fairly quickly.
Second, it would serve to map out the area and see if anything interesting could be found—either rooms of interest, or items that could be of some use. Neither happened.
Third, it would keep the men busy, avoid them losing patience or doing something stupid. It would also be good exercise, thought Cross. On this, he was not mistaken.
Fourth, there was some hope that a way out might be found—though that was quite a long shot and they all knew it. They had walked too long, in too many directions, in a labyrinth of tunnels. They did not even know how deep underground they had gone. But Wayne was certain they would not just randomly find the exit.
At some point, though, Wayne himself became bored and decided to do some exploring of his own.
He went down corridors and peered through openings...
This gave him insight into the daily habits of the Gzer.
He understood now that the uneasy feeling he’d had, on that first day, was from seeing individuals taking things without paying, or exchanging for them. But there was nothing unnatural about it, he now knew.
In the next room, he saw two lizards atop each other, rolling on the floor.
At first, he thought they were fighting and wondered if he should intervene, or ask other lizards to do so... but then realized that, no, that was not it. Not it at all.
He blushed and walked away quickly.
Why did they not have doors?
And where were all the children?
It also struck him that this particular incident was the only case he’d seen so far of two lizards of opposite genders sharing any form of intimacy... he had not seen any holding hands, kissing, hugging...
When he came back to the communal area, he saw that Garvek had returned and was talking with Val Orthon.
All of the humans looked worried.
Dumas even seemed frightened.
“What’s going on?” he asked as he approached.
The priest spun to face him. “Oh, I am pleased to announce that it was not decided that you are gods.”
Wayne grimaced. He had been afraid something like that would happen.
“We should have told them we were gods,” grumbled Cross.
“So what happens next?” asked the commander before anyone could react to the security officer’s comment.
With the absence of a negative, it took a moment for the lizard to understand the question. But when he did, he smiled.
“That is for the kav to not decide. You will have to go.”
“Where are we supposed to go?” asked Cross impatiently.
“I think he means wait,” said Wayne softly.
“Wait? Oh, come on! How much longer are we supposed to wait?”
“Remind me why we came here?” asked Dumas.
Though his question had been directed at his translator colleague, the captain snapped at him.
“You came because I ordered you to. And because it is your duty.”
The word duty sent a shiver down Wayne’s spine as he remembered the Tzark’s explanations.
He turned to the priest and realized that he was no longer there.
Once again, Garvek had sneaked out on them while they weren’t looking.
***
They had argued for over an hour about what they should do next. Since they had no idea where they were, it would be incredibly difficult to make their way back up to the surface.
Cross tried asking for a map, but the request was met with startled expressions... and a quick retreat.
One of the soldiers suggested just walking, on and on, until they found their way out. It was received with little enthusiasm.
“We need to understand their religion,” suddenly said Wayne.
The captain glanced at him with a frown. “How would that help?”
“Our fate is dependent on whether we are perceived as gods or not. That means religion is important, vital to these people. Besides, aren’t you curious as to why their sacred language is Pyrean? Understanding the origin of this could help us find a way out.”
“I agree,” said Cross. “If we learn enough about their beliefs, maybe we can convince them that we are gods after all.”
“Lying is never the solution,” countered Ardane.
“We might not have to,” cut in Wayne. “If we understand them better, maybe we can find a loophole... I know it’s a long shot, but what else are we going to do?”
The captain crossed his arms, not looking convinced. “We will keep mapping the area. But if you want to investigate their religion, commander, feel free to do so. It’s not like that requires all of us.”
It was difficult to argue with that, so Wayne didn’t.
He walked away from the group, wondering how he would find information if no one was willing to talk to them. He wished the priest was here, he might have provided some answers... though it might have been difficult to make sense of them.
Wandering through the tunnels, he tried to keep track of how many turns he took, in which direction, and to remember distinctive-looking rooms or architecture... He didn’t want to get lost.
This would take forever, though, if he just went on like this.
He paused and looked around.
Many lizards went about their business, paying him little to no attention.
“Hello, everyone,” he called out. “I know you all understand me, though you cannot respond. That’s fine. But I was wondering if one of you would be so kind as to show me the way to one of your temples... or rather, to not show me the way?”
A few of the Gzer stopped and stared at him, puzzled by the request.
He smiled, trying to look as friendly as possible.
One of them hesitated, then nodded and motioned for him to follow.
It was not a long walk.
They had been close to the place without even knowing it, perhaps even they had walked past it.
The entrance was inconspicuous enough—a dark opening like so many others. No bigger, no smaller, with no special markings or decorations.
Going through was a similar experience to when they had entered the underground structure from the outside world—Wayne was suddenly bathed in light. He found himself in a large, circular room with thousands of mats set on the floor. At the center was a dais.
Aside from him and his guide, the place was empty.
There were drawings on the walls, though. Of fantastical, lizard-like, bipedal creatures. Despite the similarities, they were obviously not Gzer. The tails were shorter, the eyes larger, their scales had different shapes...
“Are those... not your gods?” he asked, pointing at the pictures.
The lizard nodded, then glanced at him quizzically.
“Thank you,” he said. “If it’s okay, I’d like to be alone. I mean, to be in a crowd.” He paused, then added: “To not pray.”
This seemed to amuse the Gzer, for some reason, but the creature turned and headed out.
He had half expected their gods to look human... that would have explained things. At least in part.
After making sure he still was alone—he didn’t want more blasphemy to be added to their records—Wayne walked up to the dais. There was a book there. He opened it and flipped through the pages.
It was written in Pyrean.
He spent a long time reading through the book. Whenever he heard noises in the corridor, he stepped away from the dais... only to go back when no one walked in.
After skimming through most of it—he knew he’d never have enough time to read it all thoroughly—he hurried out and asked a passing Gzer if he’d be so kind as to take him back to the communal area.
***
When he saw how the crowd had thinned, he immediately guessed why.
Ayten was back.
The Tzark was deep in conversation with the captain.
“—are nurtured by the life-givers,” he was saying as Wayne approached.
“Hello! It is good to see you again.”
The lizard smiled. “Many of my people would say that, but none would mean it.”
“Our friend here,” said Ardane, “was telling us how there are no families here, at least not in the way we perceive them. There is no marriage. Fathers and mothers only play a biological role. Then the children are raised by specific individuals whose job it is to take care of them.”
“They are nurtured for twelve cycles,” said Ayten with a nod. “And then they are assigned their tasks and become active members of society.”
“We haven’t seen any children here,” mused Wayne. “Where does this happen?”
“There are special places for that, deeper underground.”
Cross interrupted: “Did you find anything, commander?”
“Sort of. I visited a Gzer temple and skimmed through their myth of creation. While the pictures of their gods do not look anything like us, I suspect this world was colonized by some of our ancestors.”
“Why do they not look like us, then?”
“Their holy scriptures say that the gods left. But before they did, I think they practiced genetic manipulations on indigenous life forms, thus giving birth to the Gzer. There were enough voice and video recordings left, not to mention books, for them to pick up on the language.”
“Can you confirm any of this, Ayten?” asked the captain.
The Tzark had listened with curiosity. He grimaced and shrugged now.
“I think even a priest would not know the answers to your questions. Our knowledge of our origins is entirely contained within that book.”
“Which was written by the Gzer,” remarked Wayne, “and thus must have been tainted by the writer’s bias. Just like the graphics give an idealized vision of how they think their gods must have looked.”
“How old is your civilization?” asked Dumas.
“According to myth, three thousand years.”
“That would date it to before the Pyrean Empire,” mused Val Orthon.
“Humans were spreading through the stars well before that,” said Wayne.
“Even assuming all these theories are correct,” interrupted the captain, “how can this help us?”
“Well... we might not be gods, but we are related to them. Surely, that must count for something.”
“And how are we to convince them of this when they believe their gods look just like them?”
Wayne opened his mouth, then closed it, unable to think of an answer.
“Maybe I can help,” slowly said Ayten.
All of the humans turned to look at him.
“Can you get us out of here?” asked Cross, hopefully.
“Of course! You must know the way,” beamed Wayne.
The Tzark held up a hand. “I do. But it will not be simple. As you know, I do not go unnoticed... nor do you, for that matter. But it can be done. For a price.”
They stared at him.
“And what is your price?” asked Ardane.
“You must take me with you.”
***
It was easy to lose track of time when you lived underground. There was no visible sun here, or moon, no way of knowing whether it was day or night.
The Gzer knew, though. Somehow.
Ayten had explained that, this too, was linked to khora. Just like you knew who had the most, you also knew when the sun was up.
They agreed that the best time to leave was when everyone was asleep. He would come to fetch them at the right time—yes, he knew where their quarters were.
While he waited, lying in his bed and staring at the ceiling, Wayne wondered how Ayten would fare among the humans.
They had warned him that it might be difficult for him to fit in, which had made him laugh.
“I don’t fit here. It couldn’t possibly be worse.”
Wayne had his doubts about that. But he had chosen not to comment—mainly because they needed his help. He didn’t feel good about it. But they needed to get out of here, that much was clear.
“Psst!”
He sat up on the bed and glanced at the door—or lack thereof.
One of Cross’ soldiers was motioning for him to come out.
He jumped up, took his things, and hurried out.
The humans were quietly gathering in the large area that connected all their rooms. Ayten was there, speaking softly with the captain.
They waited a few more minutes for everyone to join them, then the Tzark led them through a series of dark tunnels.
It was a long and silent walk through winding corridors that sloped upward. Occasionally, they would go up flights of stairs, before reaching yet another stone hall.
They often went by openings that revealed sleeping Gzer, and it only increased everyone’s nervousness.
“How much longer?” whispered Wayne while they were going through a long stretch without any connecting rooms.
Ayten pondered for a moment. “If we go through the visri, maybe an hour.”
The commander didn’t like that answer, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.
Every minute they spent in these tunnels was one more where they risked exposure.
There were a few incidents where they heard footsteps coming in the opposite direction and they had to hide in empty rooms and wait.
Each time, they were able to resume their journey undetected.
“You have guards making rounds?”
Ayten had given him an odd look. “Why would we need guards?”
Wayne remembered his explanations about khora and realized that without crime there would be no point for guards.
“Well, what about us? Wouldn’t they want to make sure we didn’t get away?”
The Tzark grinned. “You wouldn’t be able to without help.”
“So who are those Gzer we hear walking around?”
He shrugged. “Some have night tasks. Others cannot sleep.”
They finally reached the visri—which was another circular room, much like the temple, though there were no mats or dais here. There were also drawings on the walls, though these represented daily scenes of Gzer life.
The air here felt fresh and humid.
Ayten went to the far wall and when he pressed his hand against it, the stone surface slid to the side, revealing stairs.
“Hurry! We need to get to your ship before the day callers wake.”
Wayne would later learn that the day callers were just that. Their task was to wake up the Gzer, which meant they had to rise before the sun.
The stairs led them into a small mud hut that the commander instantly recognized as one of those strange “khora houses” that he had noticed on their arrival.
“What is this place?” he asked.
“It is where children come to reflect. It is here that khora first grows within them.”
Before he could press for details, Ayten hurried to the opening and looked outside. He motioned for them to follow him and they quickly made their way out, through the fields, and toward their shuttle.
“So you are not born with khora?” asked Wayne as they walked.
“We are not. That is why it is said that children are impulsive and not very wise. Knowledge and wisdom come with khora.”
The two ships still rested in the same spot where they had landed.
Wayne had worried that they might find armed guards watching over the crafts, but the place was eerily deserted.
He chided himself for constantly thinking in human terms. These people had no weapons and would have no reason to set guards. Those were foreign notions to the Gzer.
And yet, ten minutes later, as they sat at the controls, he glanced at the Tzark and asked:
“Aren’t they going to shoot at us when we take off?”
He realized what the answer would be, even as the words came out of the alien.
“Shoot? Why would they do that?” Ayten sounded genuinely puzzled.
“And with what?” laughed Cross.
Wayne could tell that the soldier was holding back further comments. He knew exactly what he was thinking, though. That these were weak people who would be easy prey for any militarized civilization. He wasn’t sure he agreed with that assessment.
As they took off, he noticed some of the lizard men gathering in the fields below, observing them.
He wondered if, maybe, their escape was a relief for them. Having to decide the prisoners’ fate must have been a dilemma for such a non-violent species. By leaving, they were taking a burden off the Gzer’s shoulders.
***
Back on the Obsidian, Ardane stormed into the control center and barked at Simmons: “Lieutenant! Why was a rescue team not sent for us?”
The young officer jumped out of her seat, startled.
“Excuse me, captain?”
“You heard me!”
“I don’t understand... why would I have done that? You were only gone for an hour.”
It was a shocking revelation, though it was confirmed by the onboard clock. And yet, the team had been in those underground tunnels for two full days.
The only one not surprised was the Tzark.
He explained that it was a known peculiarity of the underground compound where they lived. The stones they used to build their tunnels had the strange property of slowing down time. It was the friction between the two time flows that, in turn, produced their lighting.
Though still stunned, the captain ordered an immediate departure. He did not wish to wait and see how the Gzer would react to their escape.
Wayne was not worried.
The lizard creatures could exhibit surprise and displeasure, but never to the point of anger or hate. They were familiar with those other emotions, though, just like they knew what war was—not from experience, rather because their gods had warned them against such things.
But who were these gods?
It was a dizzying prospect, but if time did not work the same way for the Gzer, then what did three thousand years really mean? Could their founder have been Pyreans after all?
Not that it mattered, he realized. It wouldn’t change anything about the aliens or how they would relate to humans.
That was the real concern.
What would future interactions between the two species be like?
It was a troubling thought.
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Enjoy my writing and want more Science-Fiction from me? Check out these stories:
Letter to Tya (check this one out for a little bit more about the Gzer!)
Yellow Sky (people have been disappearing and an artist may have the answers)
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Text (c) 2025 by Alex S. Garcia.
Header: royalty-free stock images, edited by me.
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