Chapter Stankworld 10: The Ancestor Spills the Tea

Chapter Stankworld 10: The Ancestor Spills the Tea

The dismembered body of GuruG went limp for a moment.

It looked back up.

“The Plath... Where to begin...” it mused. “I suppose we must begin at the beginning. But first, a little ‘history’ even for us.”

A wrinkled hose extended from the mass that was once GuruG’s seat and plunged into what was left of his throat. Two more tendrils wrapped around his lungs and ripped them free with a sickening squelch.

“Much better. I found those air bladders to be annoying.”

“You get used to them,” Grace winced.

“How inconvenient,” the ancestor replied. “If you like, we could investigate some body modifications for you.”

“I’m good,” Grace replied. “Thanks, though.”

“Just let us know if you change your mind. It really isn’t a bother.”

“We will bear that in mind,” Alan said smoothly, “Thank you for the kind offer.”

“GuruG seems to believe that you are NOT going to bear that in mind,” the ancestor laughed. “Where was I? Oh. Right. ‘History’...”

It paused again as the light faded from GuruG’s eyes, and it drooped lifelessly, for a few moments. Then, it perked back up.

“Sorry. I had to retrieve some skeins. There is one dominant trait among all successful elder races. And the definition of success, at least for us, is the continued survival of the species. That trait is prudence. It is something that we all cling to with near religious, or in some cases truly religious, devotion. Do you know why that is?”

“You mean there’s a reason why all of you elder dudes have sticks up your asses?” Grace asked.

GuruG’s head let forth the strangest screaming noise, causing both Alan and Grace to leap to their feet and back away.

“Oh dear. That was supposed to be a laugh. I suppose I was too enthusiastic. My apologies. I am still learning how to communicate in your fashion.”

“I guess a new head takes some getting used to,” Grace muttered as she tried not to think about it. She liked GuruG.

“A bit of an oversimplification, but you are essentially correct. This method of communication is not natural to the Same.”

“If this is difficult for you,” Alan asked, “then why didn’t you use GuruG as a translator? It was his purpose, after all.”

“Because some of what we may discuss is not for the unborn’s consciousnesses to receive.”

“If it is so sensitive,” Alan asked, “Then why tell it to us? And what is to keep us from immediately relaying it to the ‘unborn’? I assume that is what you call pre-ancestors like GuruG?”

“Because it may be necessary to do so. Besides, if it comes from the mouth of an outsider, it will be suspect and can be denied. For you, it would mean the end of any association with the Same and the loss of all revenue you would gain by dealing with us. Your same would also not receive those profits, profits that would be very valuable to them, especially if their situation is as you represent it. I will, of course, share nothing that would pose a threat to the Same if released to the galaxy at large.”

“Fair enough,” Alan replied. “Shall we proceed with the conversation that is so important that it required the decapitation of a friend of ours?”

“GuruG was your friend? Curious. Your association with him was exceedingly brief.”

“He was likable,” Alan replied with a faint shrug. “I didn’t say he was a good friend or even someone we will miss, but he was favorably viewed. As a suggestion, I recommend not absorbing an other’s translator right in front of them as a common practice. We are killers and... comfortable with the prospect. Most won’t be.”

“You are mistaken. GuruG was not killed. His substance and consciousness have been absorbed into me where he continues to live and where his knowledge will live on and serve the whole.”

“The whole you,” Grace snarked.

“Grace,” Alan said firmly, “not now.”N0v3lRealm was the platform where this chapter was initially revealed on N0v3l.B1n.

He turned to GuruG’s head.

“That is none of our affair and we have no opinion concerning it. GuruG did not object, and even if he did, it’s an internal matter and, again, none of our concern. However, other beings will not be so open-minded. I don’t mean to tell your business, though. It was just a suggestion.”

“I shall bear it in mind. However, I also doubt that it will be necessary very often. What we will discuss is not discussed with many.”

“Is it because we are humans?”

“It is because you are unaligned humans. Your Same is small and not connected to any of the large otherpowers. In other words, you are suitable humans.”

“So it does have to do with our race.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Why do you feel that you owe the Tolo?” he asked.

“Because of a gift they have bestowed upon us and other races of our stature,” the ancestor replied, “The Book of Fuk, perhaps the most valuable document in the entire galaxy.”

Grace snerked.

The ancestor turned to face her.

“What do you find amusing?”

“The greatest book in the galaxy is named The Book of Fuk?”

“I never considered that. Upon reflection, agreed. It is quite amusing.”

“What is this book?” Alan asked, beyond intrigued.

“It is a list of developments that have led to hitting that final sponge or have a high probability of doing so,” the ancestor said, “It is a roadmap for the prudent to avoid that final fate, to stop short. No race that follows its teachings has ever been consumed by... whatever it is. Those who disregard it have always fallen. It is, to borrow human words, the Bible of prudence.”

“Then why not share it with everyone?”

“Because immature races, those still developing, the temptation to test it would be overwhelming. And the book contains enough hints that a clever race could use it to advance themselves technologically. Just some of the equations present in that tome could shift the balance of power in a whole region of space and increase the probability of a sponge being triggered. Tell me, would your race truly follow its teachings or try to... searching... find a loophole?”

“He has us there,” Grace smirked.

“While notable, most of your race’s traits are not unique. To return to our tale, the Plath seemingly have delayed their fate considerably by their brutal and extreme actions. They killed entire worlds and everything on them, but THEY survived. They terraformed their homeworld and created a paradise for their kind. Then, they cast aside the final vestiges of their technology and slid into a comfortable... Nirvana in a... Garden of Eden... made specifically for them. Then, they purged even themselves, altering their forms and eliminating any knowledge of their past. They know nothing of their true history save a very rare few who protect their ‘slumber.’ The rest of us enthusiastically support this endeavor. Were the Plath ever to awaken, truly awaken, from this illusion they have cast over themselves, the galaxy would burn. They would become the sponge that all the rest of us would have to survive. If you discount everything else I have said, trust me on that. You do not want the original Plath, the Pla’koth, to ever return. Even you humans would be hard pressed to survive. They are what was used to fight US. And they did that quite well. Again, things are unclear to us, but we don’t believe that we were winning at the end.”

The ancestor paused.

“The Tolo say that it would only take one Plath to revert to restart the madness and death all over again. They know more about them than any other race, perhaps even the Plath themselves.”

“How do they know so much?” Alan asked.

A long sigh seemed to emanate from the very walls.

“This next story is... a bit much to take in for anyone, including myself when I first tasted it. I am going to ask you to keep an open mind... The Tolo gave us, and others, another gift, what we consider the second most important document in the galaxy, The Final Prophecy of the Heretic...”

***

“Woah,” Grace said some time later.

“And you say this has been verified?” Alan asked.

“Much of it has already transpired and took place exactly as predicted, including events that we have personally born witness to after receiving it. It exceeds coincidence and chance by so many standard deviations that there is little doubt. It is accurate and a testament to exactly what the ancient Pla’koth were capable of... and what could happen should that be unleashed again. So, you can see why a feral Plath running around is of such a concern.”

“If she is this... first daughter,” Alan asked, “and she represents so much of a threat, why not simply kill her before she does whatever it is that she is going to do?”

“This is why we rarely share these things with developing races. According to the prophecy, you won’t be able to. If one was to try and fail, she could reawaken the entire race. At the very least, you would probably wind up like everyone else that’s tried thus far. If correct, Sheloran is both a full witch high priestess AND a high warrior. To borrow yet another term from your delightful people, good luck with that. She would literally see you coming a week before you got there. Under no circumstances should she be messed with. From what I have heard, the Republic has already discovered that firsthand.”

Grace snerked again.

“Couldn’t happen to a better bunch of assholes,” she snorted.

“You should not be quite so nonchalant about it. One of the things the Pla’koth were known for was biological weapons. If you think your human-crafted one is bad, what the Plath could do is many times worse. They wouldn’t target the Republic. They would target your entire species. They’ve done it before, multiple times. If pressed, they will do it again. Their preferred tactic is to craft something that is very virulent but only sterilizes the victim. By the time that the target is even aware they have been attacked, their entire population is sterile. From what we know, no species has even been able to undo this. This is then followed up with other biological weapons, multiple ones each nearly impossible to cure, all of which then act synergistically, each amplifying the effects of the other. The whole time they will be building their fleets and their forces, devouring everything in their path. This is one of the theories concerning our original role. Any world we inhabited would be near unusable to them. It is likely that we formed a hedge or wall around the realm of our gods.”

“And just when you thought the galaxy couldn’t get any shittier,” Grace said.

“However, the Plath just want to be left alone to hide and slumber. We also want that. We can only hope that whenever their fate finally reaches them, that it will not reach us as well.”

“And the prophecy says that the arrival of the true First Daughter would herald this,” Alan said.

“And thus, our extreme interest in Sheloran. If she is a true incarnation, then their time is up... or could be up... A Tolo sage tried explaining it to us once, but it was very hard to follow. Basically, the prophecy ends with her as does the Plath’s slumber... maybe...”

“That isn’t terribly clear.”

“After you try getting a straight answer out of them concerning this, then you can criticize,” the ancestor replied with another screech. “The only thing you and the humans need to know is, during this little war of yours, do NOT target the Plath.”

“We will certainly pass that along,” Alan replied.

“And any information concerning Sheloran or the Plath you encounter in your travels would be greatly appreciated and greatly compensated for.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Alan replied, “Of course, now that we know how valuable that information is, only information can pay for it.”

“You really ARE like us,” the ancestor replied approvingly.