Return to Krell

The rope bridges felt a little precarious at times, swinging back and forth and creaking under her weight, but if they could hold Sleethe's massive frame then they could hold her too. She really was finding it easier to get around without her boots on, she was able to grip the damp wood with her toes and she rarely found herself slipping as she had before.

As they descended into the dank depths of the village, she began to notice changes in the environment. The structure appeared to have been built from the ground up, and so the deeper they got, the older the buildings became. It was also wetter and cooler, as any moisture that collected above would inevitably find its way downwards. Many of the planks that made up the walls of the huts and the floors of the platforms that skirted them were swollen with damp, the carvings and runes less legible due to the way that the wood had warped and shifted over what must have been centuries. It was getting dark too, the structures above them blocking out what little sunlight penetrated the thick cloud cover.

Everywhere that she looked there were supports and twisted trees that had been cultivated in order to prop up the village. It was like being inside a dense, artificial forest. The beams were braced against anything and everything, the huts and trees, even each other. They were so dense in places that she couldn't even see past them. Once again she was reminded of walking beneath a pier at low tide, it was just as damp, but with fungi and mosses instead of barnacles and seaweed.

It seemed that whenever the builders of this crazy construct felt it was necessary, they just added another support, or else let the mangrove trees naturally wind their way through in their quest for light. It looked to Lena like a gentle breeze would send the whole thing toppling over like a stack of playing cards, and yet hundreds of Krell lived here, with a combined weight of perhaps two or three hundred tons. That didn't include the weight of the structure itself of course, which she had no way to estimate.

She remarked that there was more moss here too, more fungi clinging to every available surface. They must like the relative cool and the darkness provided by the upper platforms, they were flourishing here in quantities that surprised her. Even the floor was covered in a layer of thick moss that almost felt like wet grass under her bare feet, and everywhere grew mushrooms with brightly colored caps. She wondered if they were edible, or perhaps poisonous. She had to be careful not to eat anything unless she had her food scanner on hand, what was safe by Krell standards might not be safe for a human to consume.

The Krell had remarkably effective immune systems that seemed to make them almost impervious to disease and sickness, much like the crocodiles of Earth. They could even lose a limb and be relatively none the worse for wear, even in their native environment infections must be rare. Not so with Lena, but she had brought medical equipment for use where necessary. With any luck she wouldn't ingest tepid swamp water or get bitten by some horrible creature and get a nasty infection.

They were now so close to the ground that she could make out the mud through the mist, where was Sleethe leading her? This wasn't the route that they had taken to exit the village previously.

He dropped down into the mud, and Lena followed him down the gangplank, feeling the muck between her toes as she sank into the ground up to her ankles. It really was cooler down here, not so cool that it was much of a relief from the pervasive heat and humidity, but it was noticeable. Sleethe gestured for her to follow, winding his way between the great supports as he went. He could scarcely move, everything was so tightly packed, but Lena's small stature made it far easier for her.

She wondered how far into the mud these supports had been driven, and how far the roots of the trees dug down. Much like the plants that grew around the roots of the mangroves, perhaps they were also helping to make the earth here harder and better able to support the village above. Everything here was interdependent it seemed, even their artificial structures were like ecosystems in their own right, carefully tended to by the Krell.

"Who built all of this Sleethe?"

"Builders," he replied, his voice echoing between the pillars.

"When?"

"Long time before me."

Before his birth then. That could mean decades, or it could mean centuries. 'Builder' likely referred to another vocation, like the ones that the elder had painted on their bodies.

"And who maintains it now?" Lena asked, feeling the soft moss beneath her hand as she leaned on one of the supports. "Who adds new supports and grows more trees?"

"New builders."

His answers were as helpful as ever. As they struggled through the bowels of the village, Lena began to notice splashes of color amongst the ashen trees and the brown mud. There were flowers growing here, clinging to whatever they could grasp with their roots. They were behaving somewhat like creepers, unable to grow in the mud itself, but thriving where the mangroves made the earth firm enough to take hold and climbing up the wooden supports. There were flowering shrubs, clumps of dark green leaves with vibrant, star-shaped flowers in hues of indigo and purple. Vines similar to the ones that she had seen during her trip through the swamp were here also, coiling their way along roots and beams, covered in blossoms that looked like pink roses.

It was almost as if someone had hidden a beautiful garden down here, like something out of a storybook. They were everywhere that she looked, growing thicker and more numerous as she walked slowly forward, sprouting from the ugly muck and damp as if to spite it. Soon there wasn't a support or

a tree in sight that wasn't decorated with flowers like a maypole at a midsummer festival, creating a kaleidoscope of rainbow colors. Even the ever present rotting vegetation smell that hung over the planet was giving way to their sweet aroma, as if someone had been spraying around a bottle of perfume.

Movement caught her eye, and she noticed a small insect flying through the air, its abdomen flashing brightly in the gloom like a firefly. It bobbed around lazily, before landing in the center of a blooming flower that was growing up one of the supports, its petals spread open like a tiny explosion of oranges and yellows. It was pollinating, most likely. Did these flying insects serve the same purpose that bees did on Earth? Flowering plants were evolved to attract pollinating insects after all, that was their purpose.

She started to notice more of them, dozens of insects winking with a ghostly green glow as they flew between the patches of flowers. They almost looked like errant stars, the slow and leisurely pace in which they hovered about had a hypnotic quality that made her feel almost compelled to watch them.

"Sleethe, it's...like a dream. Why are these plants growing here?"

He turned around to face her, gesturing to his pale belly. Lena blushed, seeing the hand prints and the writing that she had left there during their night of passion. The implication was easy enough to understand.

"The pigments? This is where you get them from? You cultivate these flowers and then use them to make the colored dyes?"

He nodded, watching her as she explored. They must boil these plants, or perhaps grind them into a fine powder, as ancient humans once did in order to color their textiles. She had to wonder what about the dyes made them so potent and long-lasting. Was it a natural property of the plants that grew here, or did the Krell add something else to the mixture before it went into those large clay pots?

She brought up her wrist-mounted computer and began to capture video, recording the insects as they floated between the flowers.

"I hope they like this back home," she muttered, "I know I do."

After spending perhaps a half hour cataloging everything, she turned the camera back on herself, intending to provide some context for what was happening.

"As you can see," she began, wiping her damp hair out of her face. "The Krell have cultivated some kind of botanical garden down here amongst the supports that hold up the village. They must have brought seeds from far and wide, because I didn't see any of these plants growing locally. Sleethe tells me that they're used to make pigments, dyes that the native people use to stain their skin. I underwent one such ceremony myself just last night, where..."

Lena looked down at herself, her cheeks reddening as she realized that she was still nude save for her shorts. She quickly turned the camera off, surprising herself by how comfortable she already felt in her nudity. It had only been a couple of days, but already being naked was becoming so routine that she hadn't even thought about it. Better delete the video from that file when she got back to the temple...

"I'd like to come down here again when I have more gear," she said, "take some measurements and make some more records. For now, let's go back up into the village. You'd better lead the way, because I'll probably get lost in this maze."

Sleethe nodded, setting off, but she caught his scaly hand as he passed her by and held it for a moment.

"Thanks big guy, this was pretty cool."

He huffed, pleased with himself, then began to guide her back through the forest of wooden pillars and into the billowing mist.

After a short climb back up the way they had come, Lena emerged into sunlight again, clearing the layer of fog as she felt the warmth of the system's twin stars on her cheeks. There were so many tiers and layers to this village, but now she could see the roiling clouds above her, tracking their way slowly across the green sky. It was hotter up here, but less claustrophobic. While the brief reprieve from the heat had been welcome, it felt good to be able to see more than ten feet in any direction again.

Sleethe reached out a leathery hand, and she took it, the reptile helping her off the gangplank and onto one of the wooden platforms that ringed the dwellings.

"Before we go back to the temple," Lena began, "mind if I take a look around the village? I want to see how the people here live."

He nodded his head, releasing her hand.

"Go where you will," he said, her translator buzzing in her ear.

"Any idea where the people here hang out? Is there a town square, a community center, anything like that?"

He shrugged. He might be a Krell, but he wasn't native to this village, and all villages didn't necessarily share a common layout. Oh well, time to do some exploring.

***

Lena wandered with Sleethe in tow for perhaps a half hour, but she didn't find much of interest. There were very few Krell actually living in the village itself, it seemed that they mostly just came here to sleep. She had chanced a glance inside some of the unoccupied dwellings, finding little inside beyond one or two sleeping pits and a few shelves and chests to hold sundries. It appeared that they didn't bathe in their homes, they didn't eat there, and whatever jobs and duties they were tasked with performing were done elsewhere.

"It's like a ghost town," she complained, the wooden floorboards creaking under Sleethe's weight as he lumbered along beside her. "There's nobody here. Where are all the Krell who attended the ceremony? What are they doing?"

"Basking or swimming, maybe hunting," Sleethe replied with a shrug. "Hut only for sleeping."

"But are there no stores? Where do people buy or trade goods? Where do they turn those flowers into usable dyes, where do they make the necklaces that everyone seems to be wearing, where do they cook their food?"

"Necklace? I can show."

"Sure, show me the necklaces. That's something at least."

He led her downwards, and they followed the trail of rope bridges and gangplanks that she was now growing accustomed to as they traveled from platform to platform. Eventually her bare feet found mud, and Sleethe began to lead her away from the village, off towards the shore of the lake. She got the impression that he didn't quite know where he was going, his long snout turning this way and that as he searched. Lena had to keep in mind that while native to Krell, he wasn't native to this particular village. While it seemed that the Krell had a planet-spanning culture where each village shared many similarities, he had known where to find the flowers after all, perhaps there were subtle differences between them. Each settlement seemed to be a fair distance apart, they had traveled several miles to and from the village without seeing any other signs of civilization.

After walking for perhaps a quarter hour they neared the treeline of one of the many mangrove forests, and Sleethe seemed to spot what he was looking for. He changed course, Lena marching through the mud behind him, and through the mist she saw a cluster of shapes. As they neared and her eyes penetrated the fog, the dark silhouettes became a circle of perhaps a dozen Krell, sitting on the ground near one of the pale trees. They were doing...something, but Lena was too short to see past the wall of scutes and scales.

Sleethe rumbled a greeting as they approached, and it was returned as the group of aliens shifted positions to peer at him. One of them stood, a female judging by the wide hips and slimmer torso, taller and darker than the others. Not necessarily an elder, but certainly older. She lumbered towards them, glancing down at Lena. The academic felt a moment of self-consciousness as the woman's yellow eyes scanned her naked body, an arm moving to cover her breasts reflexively, but then she realized that the stranger was simply reading her credentials. At a glance she would know who Lena was, where she had come from, and what her profession was.

As soon as the dark female was close enough, she brushed heads with Sleethe, and then crouched down to bump her forehead against Lena's. Despite her stature, Lena did her best to return the greeting, their own version of an Eskimo kiss. Her earbud crackled to life as the translator picked up the beginnings of their conversation.

"Welcome, kin. Why are you here?" The female asked.

"My mate is scholar, she seeks the knowledge of necklaces," Sleethe replied. The female turned her long snout to stare down at Lena, examining her curiously. She wondered what the aliens made of her. While the men on the Pinwheel seemed to see relations with aliens almost as a sport, there was some resentment amongst the female personnel, especially where Borealans were concerned. The felines were naturally endowed with exaggerated feminine traits, and they were very promiscuous when compared with most human women. While it was certainly possible for those same women to pursue alien partners, the Equatorials were a little too aggressive for their liking and the far gentler Polars were in very short supply. There were plenty of Krell on the station, but to Lena's knowledge she was the only human of either gender to be romantically involved with one of the giant reptiles. Their loss, the Krell were model lovers in her opinion.

"A female? Then she may join us," the stranger said, gesturing towards the circle of waiting Krell. Sleethe nodded to Lena, and she felt the female's hand on the small of her back, gently guiding her towards the group of aliens. Sleethe wasn't coming it seemed, was making jewelry a female-only activity? Perhaps like the Maasai tribes of Kenya and Tanzania, the Krell women set aside time to work on their craft each day.

Lena sat down in the circle, crossing her legs on the mud as the two Krell to her immediate left and right peered down at her. These were young, judging by the lighter color of their scales. While Sleethe was a spinach green and the older Krell were almost onyx black, these juveniles were closer to pistachio, and they were almost imperceptibly smaller than Sleethe was.

"A new sister wishes to learn from us," the dark female said, "we will impart our knowledge."

The circle of young aliens examined her, no doubt curious as to where she was from, the answer to which was drawn across her chest.

"You have many marks," one of the young Krell commented.

Lena reddened, realizing that Sleethe's salacious hand prints were all over her body. It had been the hottest thing conceivable at the time, but now it was like having to live with a tattoo that one had gotten while drunk.

"She is small, there is little room," another added. There was a chorus of rumbling agreements, Lena seemed to have dodged a bullet. She turned her attention towards the center of the circle, where there was a pile of what looked like trash. Upon closer inspection it was comprised of the materials required to make the necklaces that they wore. There were colorful beads arranged on flat leaves, lengths of dry grass that were being woven together to form string, assorted shells and bones. One of the females was carving a piece of wood with a small knife, not metal, it looked perhaps ceramic or obsidian.

"You are not from here," the teacher said, lumbering over and crouching in front of Lena. She was like an insect before the giant Krell, her dark scutes reflecting the light like glass as she examined her new student.

"No, I'm human," she replied.

"But you seek knowledge? This is admirable. Come, I will teach it."

Lena rose to her feet and followed the teacher over to the pile, where the alien stooped to pick up a handful of dry grass or perhaps reeds. She turned and dropped it on the floor at Lena's feet, then gestured to it.

"You are scholar, but even scholar will make necklaces if they are female."

So her assumption had been correct, making jewelry was a task reserved only for women. There were similar customs in a great number of human cultures.

"Why do you make necklaces?" Lena asked.

"Are necklaces not made where you were spawned?"

"No."

"Then you are as a hatchling. I will teach you this." She took Lena by the hand and led her over to the pile of beads, selecting a shiny red one between her claws. It was about the size of a marble, not a small feat for such a large creature. She held it up to the light, Lena watching as the bead refracted the glow from the twin suns. It seemed to be made from some kind of glass. They probably smelted it from silica sand, but Lena hadn't seen any during her exploratory forays into the swamps. Perhaps these beads, or the materials required to make them, were imported from somewhere else. Evidence of trade between villages perhaps?

"Beads are arranged in patterns," the teacher explained, "each pattern is different. Some bring luck while fishing, others enhance fertility, some make the wearer grow larger."

They had magical properties then, they were charms as well as decorative jewelry. Lena hadn't pegged the Krell as a superstitious people, but tribal cultures all had their spells and fetishes.

"Every necklace is unique," the teacher continued, "each person have different needs. Different desires. The hunter wishes for speed and stealth, the romantic wishes to meet a mate when she is in season, a parent hopes that their spawn will survive until adulthood. Before you make your necklace, tell me what you wish for."

"I...uh," Lena stammered, pondering the question. What did she wish for? "Knowledge," she finally replied, and the teacher rumbled approvingly.

"You are scholar, this is natural. What else?"

Her love life was in order, so what else did she want? This was all nonsense of course, the necklaces would not confer any mystical powers, but it would be rude to treat their beliefs with anything less than the same reverence that the Krell afforded them.