The Green Room

Trick woke up in the greenest room that had ever greened. He was lying under green sheets, on a green cushion all stacked on top of some source of verdant lumi in a room covered in vines with broad, spade shaped leaves. With a groan he sat up and swung his feet out onto the floor beside his bed. That was when he noticed he’d been put under the covers naked, which wouldn’t have bothered him that much if there hadn’t been someone else in the room.

He stared at the other man in blank consternation. “Hello,” Trick said. “Are you my doctor?”

“No, that’s my wife,” the pale man said with an amused chuckle, closing the book he’d been reading and putting it in his lap. “You’re quite lucky, Patrick Gallagher. Not everyone gets the personal ministrations of the first healer when they come back wounded from battle.”

“You can call me Trick. Everyone does.”

“That’s what I’ve been told, although a man of my profession tries to be a little more precise.” He took a new book from a stack beside his chair and placed it under a strange device on the table that looked a little like a microscope. “My name is Cethvik and I am a member of the hall of records. I believe you know my wife and daughter.”

“Wife and…?” He’d certainly met the first healer about a week ago. Or more, depending on how long he’d been asleep. However he couldn’t think of anyone… then it clicked. Although Cethvik kept it trimmed very short Trick could still see a thin fuzz of very light brown hair on top of his head. It was borderline blonde. “You’re Sari’s father.”

“Very good,” the recorder said with a thin smile. “I’ve been entrusted with keeping an eye on you by the elders, particularly my own chief, who’s worried you’re going to get killed before we can record anything about you.”

Trick began slowly turning in a circle, looking for his poncho. “How are we talking to each other?”

“Your dimming cloak is in the drawer under the bed,” Cethvik said, pointing it out from his seat. “Bertran told us you’d need it to communicate with us. If a change of clothes would help you focus you’ll find one there as well.”

“That would be pretty nice.” Trick squatted down, found a drawer cracked open and rummaged in it until he came up with a set of boxers, green pants and an orange tank top. The fabric was a bit rougher than he was used to but not uncomfortably so. None of it fit perfectly but it would do.

As he finished dressing Cethvik said, “We didn’t know what arc you were born in so I’m afraid we couldn’t quarter your arms for you.”

“Sleeves are overrated anyway,” Trick said, wrapping himself in the slick black fabric of his poncho before sitting on the edge of the bed. “Okay, I’m here, recorder. What is it you want to know?”

Cethvik took a topaz lumi crystal out of a pocket and set it into the top of the device holding his book. “Let’s start at the beginning. How is it you came to the seventh sphere, Patrick Gallagher?”

Trick spent the next couple of hours telling Cethvik about escape rooms, his arrival in the Steel Perilous and general life in the American Midwest. It was pretty dull stuff, all things considered, although it was probably quite exotic to the Casparians. For his part, Trick was fascinated by the recorder.

Not the man. The device he was using to record. As they spoke the lenses on top of the device trembled and shifted, focusing the yellow lumi into a narrow beam that scorched symbols onto the page. Trick wondered if there was some way to get the device to read words as well as write them. Maybe it needed another color of lumi.

Once Cethvik had gone over Trick’s life leading up to his appearance on the seventh sphere he started asking questions about his trip to the Steel Perilous. Trick found those questions harder to answer. His memories were a bit muddled, which seemed natural given the stress he’d been under since they’d entered the hexes. However he also found recalling his fights there stressful in the present. When he looked back on them in his memories both the machine serpent and the bottomless shadow seemed larger and uglier than they actually had been. Or maybe he’d just blotted that out while trying to stay alive.

After what felt like several hours of talking about the perils below Cethvik stood up. As he removed the crystal from his recorder he said, “I think that’s enough for now. We have the records of the others already. Over the next watch or two we’ll compare them and see if there’s anything else that needs clarified. Rest for the remainder of the watch. Your body and mind still need it badly.”

“Wait.” Trick glanced around the room but didn’t see any windows. “How long was I asleep?”

“You got back to Harbek at the end of the watch two watches ago.” Cethvik tucked his books under one arm and said, “Everyone else from your expedition is alive and well, although it sounds like Chestin strained something getting to you after you landed. I have a copy of Dart’s log of the trip, if you’d like to read it.”

Trick offered a weak smile. “Tempting, but I can’t read your language and whatever function translates for me doesn’t work on the written word.”

“Well, I’d offer to configure my audiograph to read to you but my wife wouldn’t like it. She really does want you to rest.” A thought occurred to him and he added, “Also, if you recover by tomorrow you’ll be up in time for the zenith festival. It will be a full rotation before it comes back around again!”

“Right.” Trick had heard about the upcoming festival a couple of times already but he wasn’t sure what all it entailed other than a specific constellation aligning directly over the town. “I suppose that’s something to look forward to. I can learn to read later.”

“Good.” Cethvik showed himself out of the room.

Trick laid down on the bed again and tried to drift off to sleep again. It took hours. At first he thought it was because he wasn’t tired after sleeping for so long. Eventually he had to admit to himself that the real issue was what he saw whenever he closed his eyes.

Monsters. Wriggling snakes made of fire and hoses merged with giant mouths full of grinding teeth and chased him through his mind and into his dreams and, no matter how he puzzled over it, he could not sort them back out again.