Chapter 38

Haledon experienced strange disorientation as he walked along the hull's gentle curve. In front of him, Witch-Hazel’s body slowly dipped beneath the surface, leaving only their bobbing head in view. Above him, Haledon looked between gaps in scales at the dots of stars beyond that only partially came into view. And as the distance between the plates grew and shrunk, he occasionally felt alone as the thick bark dome enveloped him in inky darkness.

As they marched, Haledon caught glimpses of the megafauna that hung to the edge of the Megacolides. There, Gravodonatas rested with tucked appendages and folded wings. And while their heads never moved, Haledon felt their bulbous compound eyes watching his every step. Fighting the urge to approach, he continued to follow Witch-Hazel's vine.

The walk along the height of the Megacolides was quick. But it wasn't until the group had descended past the sixth row of scales that Witch-Hazel finally spoke up.

"This is what we're looking for..." They said from the scale ahead of Haledon.

Haledon felt the cord shift and sway as he watched the visible foliage of Witch-Hazel's head bob to the side. Gripping the tether, Haledon planted his feet into the leathery hide of the ship. He held fast, waiting for his anchor to stop moving, which, luckily, took only a moment. And only then, after glancing at Mek-Tek, did Haledon continue his walk to catch up to Witch-Hazel.

"What did you find?" Haledon asked, approaching quickly.

"Dermal pustule," Witch-Hazel answered, pointing at a large patch of raised, discoloured flesh. "A foreign object breached the skin here."

"Like a Mecharrion Broadhead?"

"Exactly like a Mecharrion Broadhead," Witch-Hazel replied to Haledon. "This is where we're going to want to enter."

"Okay. Where's the threshold?"

Witch-Hazel looked down at the inflamed, semi-translucent scab and then back to Haledon.

"Oh," Haledon replied. "Like, actually through the wound."

"Think of it less like a wound and more like a pimple." Witch-Hazel corrected. "Now, we don't know what to expect on the other side, so be prepared for anything."

"Okay," Haledon said once more and watched his companion begin to move.

Witch-Hazel stepped onto the membrane, quickly falling through the surface with a squirt of thick liquid erupting into his occupied space. Haledon watched the pus as it drifted lazily away, never freezing and eventually coming to rest under the nearest plate.

Following shortly after, Haledon stepped through the threshold and felt the thick goo as it coated his SOIL. It was done as quickly as it had happened, and he slipped through the other side of the scab.

"There’s usually a doorway," Witch-Hazel explained as Haledon emerged. "But it looks like they damaged it when they brought the Broadhead through. The scab will heal back over...after we excise the problem.”

Haledon's helmet decomposed into his SOIL, removing the goo blocking his vision. He inspected Witch-Hazel and Mek-Tek, examining the pus that quickly soaked into their armour.

"Regenerative hull tissue," Haledon said with a sudden, basic understanding of the substance. "Must repair faster than the Astralaceaes brambles."

"Different organism requiring different responses," Witch-Hazel shifted their head, looking down the length of the long room at the reflective surface of the distant Broadhead. "Now, let's return what was stolen."

"We're not returning anything—this is just another layer of theft," Mek-Tek said matter-of-factly as his helmet finally decomposed. "We stole it from the Mecharrion, and Mesa stole it from us, so we're technically stealing it back."

Leaning down, Mek-Tek inhaled from the straw in his armour and exhaled a vapour cloud.

"Keeping the suit vape?" Witch-Hazel asked.

"It's so convenient," Mek-Tek replied, sliding down Haledon's slick armour and landing on the ground. "Free's my hands for more efficient work."

Haledon looked down over his SOIL as the two quickly conversed. He watched as the pus that covered the leaves began to absorb into the foliage. Thinking about his time in space, he allowed his mind to wander, thinking about how long it would be before the goo froze under the scale.

"Anyway—" Witch-Hazel broke Haledon's thought process. "Let's get going."

As the trio began their march towards the Broadhead, Haledon was met with a strange sense of recall. With each cautious step down the long room, it felt like he knew what was around every blind spot. He looked at the supporting arches made of thick leather and the ambient red light that seemed to fill the space, remembering what it felt like the first time he had seen them...touched them. Haledon recalled the room vividly from his connection with the Megacolides, so much so that even the taste of the air was familiar to his senses.

"Hide," Witch-Hazel ordered the group as Haledon noticed two Druids emerging from the back of the Broadhead.

Haledon rushed behind the nearest pillar and looked across the room at Witch-Hazel. The arbornaut touched their neck, and a voice whispered into Haledon's mind.

"I'm counting two therianthropes." They said.

"Look for more," Haledon replied softly. "I counted four earlier."

Haledon waited behind the pillar, looking across at Witch-Hazel's stance. Quietly, the Arbornaut muttered and waved their hands as their familiar bramble staff appeared. With a flourishing spin, Witch-Hazel tapped it to the floor and sent a ripple of plant growth from behind the cover. Haledon watched as low-growing grasses and a small shrub emerged from where Witch-Hazel stood.

The arbornaut turned towards Haledon and placed a hand on his neck once more.

"Okay, I've got a plan—"

"I got this." Mek-Tek interrupted.

Haledon looked beneath him to notice the small Druid had already raced off.

"Mek-Tek, what are you doing?" Haledon whispered as he peeked around his column.

Almost to the edge of the Broadhead, he saw the turtle-shelled back of Mek-Tek running on all fours.

"My new and improved psilopod…." Mek-Tek replied as he stood and tucked his arm under his shell. Withdrawing a pair of purple spheres, he hid them in the front of his SOIL as he cleared the remaining distance to the pillar nearest to the Broadhead.

"Mek-Tek, those didn't work last time. Come back." Witch-Hazel whispered.

"What part of new and improved are you missing?" Mek-Tek replied. "Observe."

Haledon watched as the two orbs flew through the air. The first crossed the space and landed within the Broadhead, immediately filling the cabin with purple pollen. The second landed at the bottom of the ship's ramp and erupted, engulfing the area in a thick cloud. Panicked yells quickly filled the air within moments as the Druids rushed from the Broadhead.

"It's a volatile organic compound," Mek-Tek warned the Druids. "We must have triggered it. Quick, get out of here before it causes permanent damage."

Haledon watched as six—not four—therianthropic Druids rushed away from the ship and quickly exited the room. The threshold to the chamber was sealed behind them as the cloud had already begun to dissipate.

"Heh. Suckers." Mek-Tek chuckled and rushed up to the Broadhead. "That should buy us enough time. They'll want to be sure the toxin clears out."

"How do you know it'll keep them away?" Haledon asked, pulling himself from the pillar and walking towards the ship.

"Those Druids are currently high enough to believe anything. And if they're anything like I was, they're extra jittery because they're working so close to such an intact object. They won’t want to return until they’re sure it’s safe. But, just in case...let's make this quick."

Haledon looked back at Witch-Hazel as they approached with their staff at their side, and a frown.

"Sorry you didn't get to do your thing," Haledon said. “Next time?”

"It's fine," Witch-Hazel said, their face smirking. "That little nut has got the craziest biological resources."

Watching Witch-Hazel pass, Haledon followed them to the edge of the Broadhead. Haledon stopped to observe the floating mote of light that twisted and coiled within the ship. Beyond it, he could see Mek-Tek as he began to hop from one geometric console to the next. Instantly, Haledon felt a chill wash over his body as he remembered his last encounter at the back of the Broadhead.

"All right, everyone in," Mek-Tek called out. "We're powering it up for real this time and...Haledon, get in—"

With a panicked step forward, Haledon set his foot on the ramp. The chill, already within his body, became frigid as his SOIL made contact with the coolness of the metal. He let his feet continue forward, even though every instinct told him to run.

Entering the back of the Broadhead, he noticed that every step he took seemed to release a dull thud. It starkly contrasted his quiet movements while walking along the Astralaceaes or Megacolides. Once within the ship, a new and overwhelming sensation appeared. He felt trapped in an alien ecosystem. And unlike the Arctic desert, he felt utterly disconnected from Nature by being within the Broadhead.

"What about the...bomb?" Haledon asked as he carefully stepped around the floating object.

"Probably wise to keep some distance," Witch-Hazel remarked, looking back at it. "It’s…problematic. And even though you're not affected by Mecharrion Tech, I'd recommend not touching anything you don’t have to."

Haledon gave an understanding nod. 

Looking around, he observed the dull metal surfaces that covered the ceiling to floor, as well as long and thin bars that emitted light. The ship's interior had no discernible characteristics, just the metal walls with enough space to fit five Druids. Moving towards the ship's front, he observed the metal consoles that sat below a window so clear it didn’t appear to exist. His gaze softened as he looked over the geometric shapes that danced across the raised console, flaring with various colours.

Haledon leaned in to inspect one floating shape—a jagged, crystalline spiral—when a sudden sound cut through the air. The white noise filled the Broadhead like an endless grassland rustling against itself. A garbled sound of a message could be faintly heard behind the static. A hollow, mechanical voice spoke with dull thuds that sounded closer to rocks colliding underwater than words.

"Turn that off!" Witch-Hazel shouted out.

"I'm trying," Mek-Tek yelped in reply as he raced across the console, clicking buttons. "But it would go faster if I had help."

Witch-Hazel stepped forward and hovered their hands over the controls. The lights flashed in response, activating at their touch. A shrill pulse of metallic sound began to repeat over the white noise.

"I said help!" Mek-Tek shouted, scurrying over and swiping away at the activated light. "Don't touch that. Go to the console on the other side and look for the red fork made of light on the ceiling. Click it until it's blue."

As the warning klaxon quieted, Haledon was again overwhelmed with the garbled noise. He listened intently as he observed Mek-Tek and Witch-Hazel working on the Mecharrion controls.

"That word," Haledon said at a trio of rocky thuds. "It's used twice in the message."

"It's encrypted jargon," Mek-Tek informed as he raised a hand, pulling up a wall of light. "The patterns you're observing are likely distracting you from whatever it is."

Mek-Tek slid his hand up the light screen, creating a stack of gradient-coloured bars. The ship began to hum, and Haledon felt a strange sense of vertigo wash over his body.

"Yes!" Mek-Tek squeaked. "We have full power, again. And with that..."

Mek-Tek rushed across the console, flipping the yellow light of a rectangle red and quieting the ship. "Much better."

"What was that?" Haledon asked as he stretched his jaw and rubbed the ringing in his ears.

"Some form of automated message with—whoa." Mek-Tek gasped as he opened another light panel and stared over a dense scattering of lines and points.

"What's that?" Haledon approached, trying to comprehend the symbols on the screen.

"Data—" Mek-Tek replied.

"What?"

"It's what the Mecharrion uses to store information, and this data cache is massive."

"My fellow Druids, don't get me wrong...I love a massive cache, but can we get going?" Witch-Hazel interrupted and pointed towards the front of the craft.

Haledon peered his head over the consoles and looked at the open threshold. Sequoia Squad Druids had begun to pour into the room, levelling crossbows and muttering to themselves.

Turning toward a cloud of vapour, Haledon spoke up, "Mek-Tek—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Mek-Tek interrupted, his tiny limbs rushing as he made his way to the central console.

Haledon watched as Mek-Tek reached into his turtle shell again and withdrew two small pale green orbs of sap. Slapping them together in his hands, he knelt and touched the surface. Liquid metal began to bubble with moss, and crawling aerial roots stretched over the console. Mek-Tek pulled his hands out, gripping onto two short vine cords.

"This will have to do. Hold on!" Mek-Tek called out, ripping at the reins.

The Broadhead quickly spun in the opposite direction, but Haledon felt nothing. A wave of disorientation rushed over his body as the ship was suddenly looking behind. Turning his head, Haledon stared through the open rear of the Broadhead at the Druids with their crossbows.

With a shout, silver bolts were released, carrying behind them thin vines. A loud, sharp ping echoed through the Broadhead as the metal tips pierced into the ship's side, digging into the frame and erupting into a dense, rooted mass.

"Decompose those vines," Witch-Hazel ordered as they worked on the console. "We can't let them tether us here."

Haledon turned towards the back of the craft once more and raised his hands.

"'Rhizomatous accedo!" He yelled out, dancing his fingers and extending an arm towards the roots.

The thicket quickly decomposed into a dense goo that crawled toward Haledon’s open palm. Now able to see beyond, he watched as the root tethers snapped from the back of the Broadhead and flung back towards the wall of Sequoia Druids. The last thing Haledon saw was the Druids dodging their cords as the doors on the back of the Broadhead materialized into a sealed compartment.

"Sealed and pressurized—" Witch-Hazel said to Mek-Tek before turning to Haledon. "Nice pronunciation."

"Thanks." He replied with a worried smile. "We should go."

"We're off!" Mek-Tek exclaimed, and with a snap of the leafy reins, the ship raced forward.