Worship from beyond the Door, part eight

We reached outer Mole City in the shuttle, MST* Betty Lou, in time to see the infamous Trapezoids whizzing and diving above a torn up section of glass road. Knowing we were moments from the area, I had Miron put a hold on any direct action, but I could see the militarized squidges inside were itching to land and get hunting.

 “What about these mole creatures, Stu?” asked Steven, who was just setting the shuttle down in a clearing next to the road. “Are they dangerous? I can see they’re damned technically evolved.”

 They were that, very. I didn’t know if they were strictly indigenous to this planet, but the moles had been here as long as anyone knew. When the transplanted humans began to spread out and establish new allocations they encountered the mole civilization, but it didn’t seem to be ancient and was only in this one area. Some scientists had theorized the moles had just arrived, or even come along to the planet at the same time we did, possibly with us. The theory was fraught with odd philosophical complications. This was not something we thought of much, in Kenetica.

 “We can’t count them out. If nothing else, they have wrenches and winches,” I said. “We should bring along a couple squidges, just to be safe.”

 Steven looked at me funny. “Witches?”

 “No Steven, winches. And I’m just guessing. I have no idea what these things are carrying in their utility belts.” I stood. “Do you have any kind of weapons on board?”

 “Yes, and you’re staying in the shuttle. I’ll keep in touch with my earpiece.” Steven didn’t believe in the backflow device that many of us here had adapted to. Old Earth transplants found them taboo, to say the least. “Get one of those Traps to land and have two armed squidges put in my command.”  He opened the hatch and stepped down to the surface, sealing me in when he landed.

 --

 Johnny found himself in the dark, having hurled himself down the proverbial rabbit hole. But there were no rabbits here, just the moles and their burrowing gadgetry. The light came from above, but that wasn’t a safe place to be. Trapezoids lurked there, so Johnny moved ahead, cautiously feeling his way. The further from the sky opening he got, the more his eyes adjusted, and Johnny could see distant, hazy, light ahead. Possibly from headlamps of working, scurrying moles. His feet grudgingly shuffled along the tunnel floor, until one encountered a loose stick. Johnny reached down and traced it from the ground up to the curving shaft and pried it from the wall, spraying dirt when it finally came free. He brushed the gravel from his hair and face, and spit on the ground, then took the long stick and felt along the floor in front of his footsteps. You never knew what pitfalls might lay ahead. Soon the tunnel became clear with ephemeral light and he moved along quicker. The noises of activity grew and Johnny knew he was getting closer to whatever the moles considered civilization. He didn’t think they were violent creatures. At least on the surface when he had encountered them in the past they were docile and friendly. With their translators the moles creatures were pleasant to communicate and visit with.

 Now that nagging feeling he was having before, out on the highway, was returning. Johnny had been to Mole City before, but the specifics weren’t clear to him. Why would this memory, or any, fail him now?

The lights were brighter now and Johnny saw furtive movements. He moved ahead and saw there were breaches to either side of him in the curving tunnel walls. There had probably always been openings that he just wouldn’t have been able to see in the black. Johnny heard a commotion, and the crackling of a flash laz. Some earth dislodged and fell like a dusty curtain to the ground. He stopped and ducked into a fissure. The lights went out.

 Johnny was back against the wall, with a stick held in front. He was surrounded by dozens of the subterranean moles and their headlamps shone into his face, blinding him. Johnny dropped the stick and put his hands up.

 The lights slowly came back up, and the moles extinguished their lamps. Back from whence he came, there issued a human voice and the moles pushed a familiar man forward. He was a recognizable dignitary from Kenetica, come to take Johnny back he thought, at first. But the way the moles were ushering him changed Johnny’s mind.

 “Hey Johnny, looks like we’re in a bit of a pickle now, eh?” said the man. Steven Reparte, he guessed, the famed Earth astronaut that brought the new folk through the Eleventh Door. “And no backup, I’m sorry to say.” Behind the throng of moles lay two dismembered squidges and their firepower. There was a mole fiddling with Steven’s earpiece.

 One of the moles spoke, with a tinny voice coming from its translator. “This way, people.” Johnny and Steven flowed further down the tunnel amongst a wave of moles making several lefts and rights in the network, until they entered a large chamber. The lights were low, probably to conserve energy, but as the group traversed the inner sanctum of the moles, the lights began to glow brighter, illuminating the entire hall, until the humans could see it was big, really big. Nearly as big, and tall, as a downtown city above the ground.  And it was filled with the traditional landmarks of a world Johnny had only seen on Flixon pages.

 “Mr. Reparte,” said Johnny, craning his neck, reaching out to the monuments and facades and towers that flanked him from every conceivable angle. Some seemed even to grow from the secret limits of mole civilization. “Is that… can that actually be the Statue of Liberty?”

 The grand lady, green with ages, stood on its base in the center of brown pool, its waves lapping at the concrete. Behind it loomed the Eiffel Tower. Away, lofty was the Empire State Building, and leaning a bit closer to where they stood was roundish, cylindrical tower that Johnny didn’t know. There was more, much more, but Johnny couldn’t take it all in. The lights dimmed somewhat now that the moles under Mole City had revealed that which they wanted humans to see.

 “You now know what lies hidden. But do you know what secret hides inside of you, Johnny?” asked the leader of the moles. “You have taken something from us, and I know that you have paid for some of it in kind. We demanded that much, at least.”

 Johnny began to remember, the truth was unkind. The toll was exacting, but his part was done. Robert was dead, as was fitting, and his only command now, was to live.

 The mole turned to Steven Reparte. “We require more.”

 *Moon State Tech