The Number of the Spheres

The new voice belonged to someone a little more normal than Sari. At least he looked more normal to Trick in that he could see the man’s face and he wasn’t dressed primarily in black. He had long brown hair that fell below his shoulders and wore a simple orange tank top and black pants cinched at the waist with two of those giant buttons.

He only wore one of the bizarre disconnected sleeves but this one covered his whole arm. It was also embroidered with strange patterns that looked like constellations. Reinforcing the astronomy themed impression was the long tube he held in both hands that looked something like an old fashioned spy glass or telescope, except for a strange yellow crystal in a slot at the bottom.

On the other hand the way the newcomer was pointing the tube at him told Trick it was probably a weapon. So he slowly raised his hands, palms out, saying, “No need for that thing. We’re all friends here.”

“Are we?” The other man asked.

“Yes, we are,” Sari said, pointing towards the chunks of starsight with her staff. “He saved me from that one so I think we can afford to show him a little kindness, Bertran.”

Bertran lowered his telescopic weapon, still watching Trick warily, and gestured for someone behind him. A woman who couldn’t have been more than five feet tall popped around a corner in the canyon, a set of bolas spinning down in her right hand, a basket in her left. She wore a red dress cut like Sari’s, except without straps over the shoulders. She wore two full sleeves connected at the back like a very small jacket and embroidered with the same constellation patterns as Bertran’s.

Unlike Sari she had no veil.

Trick tried to parse through what kind of relationships or hierarchy there was between them but he just didn’t know enough to guess. The short woman looked Trick over and shrugged. “We might as well bring him. If he can deal with a starsight all by himself then at least he can stop one while we run for the lens towers.”

That told him who the practical one was. “Count on me, ma’am. All the ladies say they find me incredibly distracting. I should be able to hold the attention of a few overgrown spacebugs.”

She gently elbowed Bertran in the side. “You see that? He’s ready and willing to be our sacrificial distraction!”

Bertran slung his telescope over one shoulder and tsked. “I’ll believe it when I see it. Do you two have everything?” The ladies made affirmative noises. “Then let’s get going. I suppose you can come along if you want, stranger.”

“His name is Patrick Gallagher,” Sari said.

Before that name could take root with the other two he broke in, saying, “But just call me Trick.”

Bertran frowned but didn’t comment.

“I’m Gemma,” the short woman said. “This is my husband, Bertran. He’s the captain of the harvest guard, so I hope you’ll forgive his temperament. Suspicion is part of his job.”

“I’m not holding it against him. A little suspicion is a healthy thing, sometimes.” Trick kept his eyes pointed up, towards the walls of the canyon, in case there were more starsight out there waiting to jump on them. The sword he’d found appeared to be a viciously powerful weapon against them but he still didn’t understand it. It cut starsight without having to touch them. However, when he’d tested it on a bush he found whatever function of the blade made that possible apparently didn’t work on the plant life. There was no guarantee it would always work on the insectoids, either. Still, if he could see one of them before it jumped on him he’d have more time to deal with it if his sword decided to stop working.

As they walked he asked, “If you’re the harvest guard, what were you here to harvest? The vines and grass here don’t look very appetizing.”

Gemma gave him a funny look and patted her basket. “We’re harvesting the lumi, of course. Zenith is coming and the wells are full to overflowing, of course we bring it in when we can. Wouldn’t you?”

“Of course,” he murmured. Trick had suspected the point of the geode pit, or the well it seemed, was a way to refill the glowing crystals he’d found. Now he was certain. “It’s just that, where I’m from, harvesting is for living things. We’d say refilling or recharging if we were dealing with a power source like… did you call it lumi?”

Gemma nodded. “Where are you from that you don’t even know that?”

It was time to make a decision about what he was going to tell these people because Trick suspected vagaries weren’t going to cut it much longer. Maybe it was best to try and work out what they thought of the world before he tried to explain how he thought of it. “I’m not from here, at least. However I’m not even sure where here is so I’m not sure how to explain where I’m from. Where is this?”

Sari indicated the ground with the base of her staff. “Below us is the seventh sphere.” They were walking up and out of the canyon and once again had an unobstructed view of the night sky so she lifted her staff to point upwards. “Above us we see the illuminating lights of the eighth sphere. Beyond that, the ninth sphere rotates in unfathomable darkness. And somewhere even further past they say there is another world, the tenth sphere.”

In his mind’s eye Trick saw a sheet of paper with ten concentric circles drawn on it. “The tenth sphere. Yes, I suppose you could say that’s where I’m from.”

“Is that a fact?” Bertran asked, clearly suspicious. “And what brought you across the dangers of two whole spheres to the seventh?”

“I’m just…” Trick almost said lost but felt it might not be a wise thing to admit to. “I’m just passing through. I’m looking for someone.”

That didn’t seem to make the other man feel any better. “Who are you looking for? Where do you expect to find him?”

Gemma nudged his side again. “Bertran.”

“It’s fine.” The view in Trick’s imagination changed from the ten circles to Stan, at the combination lock. The number two had vanished from it when he finally brought himself to look. “His name is Stan Richards and I expect to find him on the second sphere.”