Part Twenty-Nine
The Woods by Reservoir Lake
Three weeks before the attack…
Music wafted through the trees, echoing over the shimmering lake. Dee pulled his cloak's hood up over his head, keeping to the shadows as he approached the people he saw clustered by the shore.
A large campfire crackled within a ring of rocks, its flickering light highlighting faces Dee knew - some from school, others from town records. He spotted a few giggling groups of seniors and juniors, but most were recent graduates of the past few years.
Dee upped the gain on his audio receptors, 'listening in' on the overlapping conversations. The more common complaints and frustrated utterances seemed to confirm his suspicion that many of these attendees were 'in the same boat' as Renny and Janina's friend Ally Wallace: young people who had seen their personal dreams 'deferred' by the needs of their families and the colony. As he watched, they passed a small lidded cup from hand to hand. A few waved the cup away, but most lifted the lid and breathed deep before passing it on, their eyes gleaming like sparks in the night.
"Checking in, bro? Or just browsing?" the young man beside Dee asked, holding out the cup. Like Dee, his features were concealed by a deep hood, but the android recognized his voice as that of Trevor Aikin, a popular senior.
Dee blinked, surprised not only by the casual address, but that the young man would simply hand the cup to him without even a basic inquiry as to his identity or whether he belonged among them.
"Ah," Dee hedged, his eyes flicking to the young man's companions as he worked to read their shadowed faces. "I believe…tonight…I will 'check in'?"
Trevor laughed and his friends smiled, watching with a brand of fascination Dee could best describe as 'hungry' as the android accepted the little cup and cautiously smelled its contents. He'd intended a brief, cursory sniff but the pleasant scent – spicy and earthy like juniper, or a cedar grove during a rainstorm – prompted him to inhale deeper and longer before passing the cup to his waiting neighbor.
For Dee, analyzing the chemical make-up of the substances he ingested was an automatic function: a fundamental aspect of how he experienced what the humans around him called 'taste' and 'smell'. From Janina's account of the petal-heads and their use of the 'petal' extract, Dee had expected the cup to contain a tincture or extracted oil derived from local flowers. But this…
Dee furrowed his brow, then blinked in startled realization, his golden eyes opening wide.
"That's right," the young man said, clapping a hand on Dee's shoulder and giving it a friendly squeeze. "You're getting it now. You're one of us."
"One of us," his companions repeated, their smiles warm and welcoming. "One of us. One of us. One of us!"
"I was not, however, 'one of them,'" Dee said, pulling off his hooded cloak and swiveling his desk chair to face his bed where Thea sat cross-legged, regarding him. "The chemical compounds in that substance do possess powerful physiological and mind-altering properties. But inhaling them had no noticeable effect on my positronic brain."
"But, if the petal-heads aren't actually 'sniffing flowers', like they say, what are they sniffing?" Thea asked. "I mean, what was the stuff in that cup?"
"Simply put? Spores," Dee told her, sitting forward in his chair and folding his pale hands on his lap. "Most likely collected from a local moss with flower-like sporophytes, then processed into a potent, paste-like concentrate."
"Then the stuff is native to Omicron Theta? It's not, like, some Ferengi import?"
"I cannot be certain without further study," Dee said. "But I would presume so. I will need to identify the moss in question and take samples of its spores for comparison."
Thea frowned. "That sounds like it'd take a lot of time. Finding and testing specimens. And the track semi-finals are coming up fast! Is there any way we can narrow things down?"
"There is," Dee assured her. "There are two native moss varieties I would consider first, the most likely being a 'weed' detested by the farming community as it infests cornfields and promotes root rot and similar ailments if not immediately burned away. A second candidate would be the so-called 'flowers' that seem to decorate every grassy lawn, park, field and meadow in the colony. These, of course, are not true flowers, but the sporophytes of a soft, ground-covering moss. Although, as humans are exposed to them every day with no reported ill effects, I am inclined to start with the less-desirable 'weed'."
"Wait." Thea scooted closer, right to the corner of the bed. "You mean, those flowers we see everywhere – the ones with the petals that always get stuck to your shoes… You're saying those aren't actually flowers?"
"They are like flowers in appearance, but biologically they are more similar to Earth sporophytes," Dee said. "Of course, being of non-Earth origin, it is not always practical to classify exo-flora and fungi by Earth standards."
"Hm!" Thea sat back and smirked. "OK, that blew my mind a little. So, what happened after you sniffed the spore-paste?"
"It is…difficult to explain," Dee said, scrunching his forehead.
"Well, did the Storyteller show up?"
"Yes."
"And…?" Thea prompted.
Dee frowned and furrowed his brow even harder, struggling to put into words an experience he still did not fully comprehend.
"He gave a speech that seemed to resonate quite deeply with the gathered crowd. But, before that…"
He shook his head a little, playing the images back in his mind.
"I do not know when he arrived," Dee said, his golden eyes distant, "The first I saw of him, he was walking through the crowd. He wore a hood much like mine, but his features were concealed by a mask. Smooth and polished, like a mirror with many contours. I believe, but I am not fully certain, that his true voice was also concealed. It's possible he made use of a vocal modulator."
"Yikes." Thea made a face. "That's seriously creepy. So, you didn't get to see his face?"
"Unfortunately, I did not," Dee admitted. "But it was his demeanor that struck me. More than that – it was the way the crowd responded to him."
Dee propped his jaw on his fist, his golden gaze troubled.
"Thea...this meeting...it was far outside anything I could have anticipated. Honestly, I have not experienced anything like it. In all the plays and works of literature and history I have read, I suppose the closest comparison would be…a rapture."
"A rapture?" Thea wrinkled her nose. "You mean like that Klingon religious festival on Forcas III, where participants stand and shake and go into seizure-like trances?"
"Yes," Dee said, the earnest look in his eyes making Thea increasingly uncomfortable as he described the scene. "There was this one girl, a newcomer like me who had chosen to 'check-in' with the group by inhaling the spore paste. The Storyteller stood before her, very still, and soon she, too, grew still. She stared at him the way I imagine a Rigellian deer would stare at a psysnake – completely mesmerized. Then he touched her forehead. Here," he pressed his index finger to the place between his eyes.
"What happened?" Thea asked.
"The girl seemed to spasm," Dee told her, "but she did not fall. The Storyteller said, 'She is one of us,' and the rest of the crowd began to chant. 'One of us,' they said. 'One of us, one of us…' Their words grew louder. They waved their arms and jumped in place, their movements becoming more frenzied as the chant continued. And that girl, the one he had touched, she seemed the most frenzied, the most frantic of them all."
"Sheesh…" Thea winced. "I think I'm almost glad I had late practice. I mean, I've heard mob stuff can be pretty powerful. Something about finding freedom in the collective. Losing any sense of individual responsibility. But actually seeing something like that…?"
"It was powerful, and quite intimidating to witness," Dee said. "Or, perhaps a better word is 'unsettling'. The Storyteller allowed this feverish behavior to continue for so long, I began to fear there would be injuries, self-inflicted and otherwise. But he put a stop to it with a single gesture. Like this." He made a swift cutting motion with his hand. "And all the noise and motion, the screams and the wild shaking, the frightening chaos... It simply stopped. The Storyteller gestured for us to sit and we sat, leaving him standing by the fire at the center of our circle. That is when he began his speech."
"Can you repeat it for me?"
"Yes, but I will not as it was quite long and I have not yet fully processed its meaning. I will summarize, however. Perhaps you can make more out of it than I."
"I'll do my best," Thea said and Dee smiled his slight smile.
"It was much like a philosophy lecture," Dee said. "Except, while the Storyteller did directly reference respected thinkers from several worlds, both in and outside the Federation, he failed to acknowledge the fact that the concepts and quotes he spoke of were not his own. He also used them out of context, as if he wished to deliberately confuse their meaning."
Thea frowned and rubbed her arms. "This all sounds kind of…cultish," she said.
"You may not be far off," Dee agreed. "Especially considering the topic of his lecture."
"Which was?" Thea prompted.
"Death."
Dee lowered his eyes, looking nearly as chilled as Thea felt. His voice grew soft and he clasped his hands tightly in his lap.
"He equated death with…with heightened awareness. With pure love. But to achieve that parallel, he employed a deductive fallacy. His argument was, ultimately, nonsense, yet the humans around me behaved as if they had received some profound truth." He shook his head and looked helplessly up at her. "It may have been an aftereffect of inhaling the concentrated spore paste. But not everyone chose to imbibe, and those individuals seemed just as wrapped up in his words as the so-called 'petal-heads'. I have never felt so baffled."
"Well, what did he say?" Thea asked.
"To paraphrase, he said only the living can achieve death," Dee told her. "He claimed that death is beautiful, perhaps the most beautiful and natural part of life. Very well. But then, his argument grew…stranger. Why is death beautiful, he asked the crowd. He answered: it is beautiful because it is reserved for the deserving, for those conscious enough to understand its meaning. He told them this understanding requires a higher awareness. Of ourselves, our place in the universe, our inner being. And this is life's true definition. It therefore follows, he said, that the truest definition of life is death."
He blinked several times, shaking his head so hard it was almost a shudder.
"But, that is not so," Dee said. "Death is the opposite of life - defined, in fact, by the absence of life. But, the Storyteller has reversed this, equating two contrary states. If a being is dead, it means it is truly alive, he says. We know this being is alive because it has died. I can make no sense of this, Thea! One cannot be 'dead' if one is alive. One cannot be 'alive' if one has died! It is confusing, and it is a fallacy – literally the opposite of the deductive argument known as the modus ponens. The proper form is:
"If a then b.
"a.
"Therefore, b.
"For example: If you are alive, then eventually you will die.
"You are alive.
"Therefore, eventually you will die.
"That is logical. In a logical deduction, one would affirm a, the antecedent: You are alive. But, in his argument the Storyteller affirms the consequent, b, rather than the antecedent, a, thus yielding an invalid form that leaves much room for speculation and alternative arguments.
"If a then b.
"b.
"Therefore, a.
"When the roads are wet, the shuttle is late.
"The shuttle is late.
"Therefore, the roads are wet.
"You see? It does not logically follow that, if the shuttle is late, the roads must therefore be wet. There may be any number of reasons for the shuttle to be late, from mechanical difficulties to scheduling delays and beyond. The antecedent – the roads being wet – has not been confirmed, therefore the conclusion that the shuttle is late because of wet roads cannot be confirmed. It is true that mortal beings must, eventually, die but death is not life's sole defining factor. For something to be defined as a life form, it must be, well, alive! It must be sensitive to its environment, capable of reproduction, it must adapt, grow and develop, process energy... Oh, Thea, is it any wonder that I feel so lost!"
Thea snickered despite herself, covering her mouth with her hand.
"Dee," she said, her fondness for the android evident in her smile despite a few more involuntary snorts. "You're right. You are missing something. Something, I think, this Storyteller creep knows way too well."
"What's that?" Dee asked.
"Humans aren't logical," she said. "Not really. We tend to react viscerally first – gut reactions, knee-jerk responses. Then, we logic things out later. Sometimes. Maybe."
She snickered again, then her smile faded. "This is serious, though, Dee. Way worse than we thought. Because if this is a cult we're dealing with… Well, there's gotta be a reason. Something their leader wants. Power, adoration or maybe…"
She shivered hard and shook her head.
"What is it?" Dee asked. "What might he want?"
Thea shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know. It's just...a lot of cult leaders from history turned out to be psychos, didn't they? Serial killers like that twentieth century what's-his-name...Manson? They build up this huge cult of personality then get their followers to...well... I mean, we know Keith and Elias were going to the Storyteller's meetings. And now they're dead. Drowned. And you told me yesterday you found skid marks by the river that runs into the reservoir. Skid marks that could have been caused by a boat getting pushed into the water from the riverbank. Did you ever find any boat?"
"I found a small canoe when I walked along the bottom of Reservoir Lake," Dee said. "Three punctured dinghies, forty-three balls of various sizes, eighteen friscus disks—"
"Dee," Thea cut him off. "Do you think you could retrieve that canoe and those other punctured boats? You know, drag them up to shore so we can take a look at them?"
"Of course. But—"
"Then let's go," Thea said, practically jumping off the bed as she reached for her jacket. "Right now. And, Dee…"
"Yes, Thea?" he asked, rising to his feet as she turned to face him.
"I think we stepped in something here. Something really deep. If this Storyteller is what he seems to be, this whole colony could be in danger. Like, real horror-vid stuff. I mean, I can hardly bring myself to think about it, but…"
"You believe the Storyteller and his followers are directly responsible for the deaths of Keith and Elias," Dee said.
"I'm getting there, yeah," Thea said. "And more, even. I'm starting to think… They might have done it with intent. Maybe to prove that fallacy you were talking about. I don't know if their victims were volunteers or sacrifices or what. But it all seems to fit in this icky, sticky way, you know? It's like, you have Ally and those other kids frustrated about being forced to stay here, watching their lives stagnate while their friends go to university offworld. There's the petal-heads sniffing spores and breaking windows and stuff, like they're lashing out at the colony itself. And now this Storyteller making death seem like some great linking force, like a higher form of consciousness or something. It all adds up to a big, messed-up tangle of anger and rage and I think that Storyteller guy is holding the detonator. When he decides to set it off…"
Dee blinked, his golden eyes tightening with horror. "You are implying there may be more deaths?"
"I'm not implying," Thea said and led the way out the door. "I just hope I'm wrong."
To Be Continued…
References include - TNG: Parallels; Rightful Heir; Descent I/II; The Quality of Life; Datalore; Generations (movie); TOS: This Side of Paradise; Law and Order: Criminal Intent - Sound Bodies; Martha Marcy May Marlene (movie); A Rulebook for Arguments, Third Edition, by Anthony Weston.
Next Time: Seeking hard proof that the deaths of Keith and Elias were not accidental, Dee uncovers a much bigger plot, and the true identity of the Storyteller. Stay tuned!
So sorry for the very long wait, but thanks very much for reading and for sticking with my story! Your reviews, thoughts and comments are always welcome. Please let me know what you think! :)