Little Pieces in Search of A Bigger Picture

The Collective: Art Vs. Science, 4-6

Chapter 4: The Weaver's Eyes

The Weaver spun the cocoon, gently enclosing her FarSeer in healing light and sound. A delicate construct of the substance of her will and the stardust gemflesh of her own eyes and carapace, it had suffered severe disruption when the human female's arrow skewered it. They were time-consuming to create, causing her some discomfort, but the FarSeers' task was vital to maintain the magnificence of the Grand Unified Tapestry. Every flight of Seekers that accompanied her scouting parties had one, to analyze and record beings of interest, whose stardust would add to the GUT's glory.

The young human it had been interfusing with was a rarity – an Astral Focus. To her FarSeer, he had appeared like an explosion of colors, hinting that somehow the boy was infused with something ancient and primal to this planet. She had been so close to possessing it, only to have it snap back into him, at the very instant the arrow had struck.

The Weaver hated herself for her failure. She had acted instantly, unthinkingly pulling the FarSeer through the space between. If she had not, she would have experienced an agony similar to the Great Transformation. But she would have survived the pain, and the GUT would have gained a panel of mind-altering beauty. Next time, she would sacrifice her own stardust-born. She would not fail.

As the FarSeer was healing, the Weaver dreamed. She dreamed that she had – somehow –produced offspring with the young human. Their hybrid beauty was beyond measure, shining with blinding light and color, the GUT in all its glory growing beneath them. Perhaps it might be possible, she thinks. Perhaps the Metal Ones might know a way.

Chapter 5: Ten Days Later

Tane was hungry. He was also exasperated, infuriated, annoyed and thoroughly baffled. But right now, he was mostly starving. As soon as the barback brought the plate of steaks, garden greens and mushroomed taters in butter and garlic, he wolfed down several mouthfuls. Tina chuckled and poured him a mug of spiced cider. Gubba sat across from him, feeding bits of roasted rabbit to Momo, who sat contentedly next to him.

Grant was busy at the bar, quaffing shot after shot of Coldfire with a burly young farmer. Grant flexed his forearm, showing the young man the scar that he'd gotten two years ago, when a Bug had tried to swallow it. Old Ennia had interfused with the creature just in time, ordering it to step away from the warrior and giving Graciela an opportunity to lop its head off. This was a part of Grant and Jonack's game that the members of the Collective were very familiar with –the warrior's tolerance for liquor was extraordinary, and the way the farmer was running his calloused fingers over the 9-inch scar suggested that Grant was about to get lucky. Jonacks had already gone upstairs with the young woman who'd been the farmer's date for the evening.

"Tane, I've never seen anything like Dolci's interfusing," said Gubba, "Some of it is regular stuff, but her treoline has some unique and weird workings that Ennia and I have never seen before! She's got one where she puts you to sleep just by adding her voice! And there's another where you sprout flowers and are attacked by bees! Ennia has more patience than I do, and she's got a knack for helping the young woman work through new things."

Tina's full-throated laugh filled the room, followed by several tavern guests. Momo was having words with an odd-looking golden rabbit. The rabbit chittered harshly, until the catellope bowed her head, antlers touching the ground. The two rubbed noses, and went over to the roaring fire, where they both sat and began a quieter conversation. "Looks like she's made a friend. I wonder if she'll stop eatin' rabbit fer a while?"