Wednesday, July 25, 2012

The Gedd Chronicles: Chapter Three

Sorry for the delay folks, was at work.

Anywho, this is it. 

Chapter 3

Earth Date: 1965
Yeerk Date: Generation 624, late-cycle

I am titled Fence-Builder 47210245, body of Thidrik 0245 of the Vis Daeker Pool.

My title is my profession. My assigned number represents my line's generation, (472), my gender (0 is female. 1 is male), and my assigned master (0245.) When I am old and frail, I may be so lucky as to become a temporary body for young grubs, in which case my title and number and identity will be reassigned.

Until then, I must show my value. I am a fence-builder, and Thidrik's grasping hand is nimble and calloused. The rest of Thidrik's body is less relevant, so long as I may perform my tasks. That is my value.

It is morning. The echoed clang of our clay walls signal our time to awaken. I rise from my woven sleeping mat, and exit my dormitory. It is dark, but we navigate the long mud and brick passageway by feel and memory. But the passage lightens as we near the pool center.

The Vis Daeker Pool is the heart of our master's community. While our dormitories are simple and sparse, the pool is full of light and life. The air is loud with the voices of many Yeerks, while other empty vessels such as myself wait silently on line to be completed.

I remain single file with the others. I remain silent, as silent is an aspect of my value. I remain patient. As patient is an aspect of my value. Soon, my patience is rewarded, and I near the pool. I lean my head down to the water, waiting for the familiar numbness of joining, so I may be complete yet again.

I wait for a moment, and then the joining is done. Thidrik assumes hold of his body, and I relax into the corner of my mind, relieved at my daily duties being complete.

After the joining, Thidrik enters the mass hall. Once again, the air is abuzz. It has been a busy cycle. The construction of the canal, which will link the Vis Daeker with the Sulp Niar, allowing brother Yeerk to travel to brother Yeerk without the need for dangerous migration, is nearly complete. It is a grand project. Good for master Yeerks and brother Gedds. We may travel without fear of Varnax and Sarret. By all accounts, our masters have reason to be excited.

I remain in the corner of my mind though. It is considered rude to eavesdrop. Many would be punished for such a misdeed.

Fortunately, my master is gracious. He values the silence himself, nearly as much as us Gedd. Though he makes minor smalltalk, he does not join the others at the mass for laughter and celebration. Merely, he retrieves our tools for the workday: a thick, woven glove, and our lunch, a ball of ground moda root, still warm from the pot. Thidrik takes it in hand, and exits the mass hall, eating as we go.

Thidrik takes a second to massage the ball of his aching foot, before we final exit the compound. It is normally quieter outside, but today, even out in the open there is an usual level of talk. The diggers chatter on, surprisingly not about the canal construction. Even the occasional guard, normally stoic and strong, comes near to listen. Thidrik perks up his ears. There is talk of strange lights in the sky...

No! I must not eavesdrop! I retreat again to my mind-corner. Thidrik soon grows inpatient of the conversation, and we begin our work. I cannot help but grin internally. It is my time to shine.

Almost gleefully, I relinquish to Thidrik my past memories and skills. Exercises back at the academy. Weaving reeds together, back and forth, back and forth, completing the pattern in the fastest time, proving myself to my occupation. I cannot help but be proud. I am good at what he does.

With glove on hand, Thidrik weaves a long cord of thorny weed around thin pillars, each an arm's spread from one another. Once fixed in place, the jagged weed is enough to keep up any predators.

Hour after hour, the weed is weaved back and forth, and the fence expands along with the canal. We grow ever closer to the approaching end. Eventually a whistle signals the work days end; we may again come inside.

My stomach growls, and my brow is beads with sweat. But Thidrik waves off the others. He wishes to finish construction. The sooner completed, the better, he says. How lucky I am, to have such a hardworking and noble master.

Our work continues, simply as that. Further hours pass. One by one, those remaining outside turn in for the evening, with only a lone guard, eyeing us irritably. We continue work.


What was that?! A sudden light from above, illuminating everything. The guard appears as confused as we. No matter, back to work...

Thidrik follows it. This is..unexpected. And the light circles around, lower, easier to see. It is a bright spark in the sky, leaving a trail for us to follow.

No. We should remain at work. This is not right.

Thidrik breaks into a sprint. I am winded from the long day of work, but he pushes my, our body, pushes it to keep going. Not right, not right at all. We need to go, need to go, need to go.

Further we run, away from the compound. Thidrik is overcome with curiousity. I am not.

Everything is out of sight. Need to go home. Do not belong here. Do not.

The light lowers, growing bigger and brighter. It is not right! Mustn't be here!

It lowers itself to the ground. It is like a long raindrop, curled around at the end to a point. My skin is cold. It is wrong. I must go home. I must. I must. I MUST!

For a second I wretch control of my, of Thidrik's body. I turn around, to go.

No. No. Nononono. What have I done? It is the very worse possible thing It goes against everything they have ever taught us. This form is my master's and I have no right do to such a thin. I have done wrong. I am a broken Gedd.

In an instant, Thidrik grabs proper control again, turning to face the strange object. But it is too late for me. I weep inside my mind-corner.

A face of the object opens, melting away like water. Out it steps.

It blue, like us. But taller, thinner. Thidrik stares up in awe at the four thin but strong legs, at the horns ending in eyes. But what catches my attention and fills me with dread and fear is the tail, a long swift shape ending in a blade, a clearly dangerous weapon. The tail curls and writhes, like lightning.

I beg Thidrik to turn, to run. But he ignores the broken Gedd.

The creature extends a hand to Thidrik. He extends mine in turn.



You should all be concerned, as I seem to have caught the fanfic bug. Anywho, I have two possible ideas, and I'll leave it up to you guys as to which I start on first.

Idea A: Join Vice-Captain Grix Graharagaragah, greatest pirate in the galaxy and scourge of the Helmacron empire, as she faces down her greatest threat so far: a small dog.

Idea B: Things are going well for Novelty Keychain Retailer, his product is selling like Czeren Meat-Wedges, but when sudden unexpected action from the Guild of Mages results in his factory being infested with ghost-dragons, it looks like his plans for retirement are put on hold. But wait, why are the Space-Sheriffs and the Iskoort Government getting involved? Is there something bigger going on here?

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