It was everywhere. Slick and sticky and of varying viscosity, it averaged half a dozen centimeters deep no matter where one went. Below the scattered hills the cities, even the farms, were forced to build on raised platforms. It was not terribly difficult, this physical elevation of an entire society. Far less involved than putting down pylons on a water world, for example. Step off a platform onto the planetary surface, however, and a resident would find himself on a world of sodden soil and lugubrious organic goo. Agronomists did well out of the rich muck, miners less so. There was a living to be made, but Daribb required a particular sort of settler. Or rather, one who was not particular. Unsurprisingly, even at its peak the population had never been more than a fifth of that of Seraboth or Treth.
Metropolitan areas were few and far between, with the bulk of the population living in scattered small towns and the agricultural areas that radiated outward from them. Located on an abandoned outcropping, the Myssari research base was smaller and less developed than the ones on Treth and Ruslan’s homeworld. Operating with less support and fewer personnel, the scientific complement nonetheless had compiled an impressive list of discoveries. Were the most recent one to prove accurate, it would certainly overshadow nearly every piece of research into vanished humankind since a team on Seraboth had recovered the survivor known as Ruslan.
It was drizzling when he exited the shuttle. Sheltered within the flexed, extendable tubeway, he and his companions were shielded from the moisture. The Myssari reacted to rain much as they did to everything else, with aplomb and a disposition that was invariably sunnier than the weather itself. They evinced none of the gloom that would have afflicted a corresponding trio of humans. To them rain invariably meant growth, renewal, a refreshing of the world. Depending on individual mood, to a human it could mean that, or a moodiness that might linger.
Despite the strain of the journey, Ruslan was too keyed up to be anything other than energized. The director of the outpost and their host, a mid-aged female named Twi’win, tried hard to distribute her attention among the four visitors. Used to putting awed Myssari at ease, Ruslan made it a point to reassure her.
“Go ahead and stare. After years on the receiving end, it has long since ceased to bother me.” He smiled, wondering if the director had been better prepped on human expressions than on human appearance. “You should know that I don’t consider it a display of ill manners.”
Indicating that she understood, Twi’win pivoted and led them along the covered walkway. Outside the transparent protective sleeve the drizzle vacillated between mist and sprinkle without ever turning to real rain.
“Is it like this here much of the time?” Staring out through the curving wall on her right, Cor’rin hinted that she would not be averse to seeing some sunlight.
“It is like this here all the time.” As they entered the outpost’s headquarters the director turned to their left. Busy scientists and techs paused to regard the newcomers and, despite themselves, gape at the human. That they knew Ruslan was coming did not in any way mute their curiosity. Just as he had advised Twi’win, he took the gawking in stride.
Seats were taken and refreshments were brought. Disdaining the Myssari furniture, which in any case was of the temporary and barely adequate kind one would expect to find in such a remote extension of the Combine’s research arm, Ruslan leaned back against an insulated wall and crossed his arms. Though she addressed them all, the director’s gaze kept sneaking toward Ruslan. Whenever he met her stare, she would look hurriedly away despite his insistence that such attention did not trouble him. As she grew increasingly used to his presence, he knew, such involuntary gaping would gradually disappear.
She did not waste words on small talk but went to the heart of the reason they were present.
“The sighting did not take place here but at an urban location we have not yet explored in person. No staff were available to engage in an immediate follow-up to the automatics’ report. We have since sent people to the site. They found nothing. There are no indications a living human being was present anywhere in the vicinity of the report. Or, for that matter, anywhere else on Daribb.” Using all three hands, she gestured at the damp landscape outside. “As you may surmise, there are no such things as lingering footprints on this world. Nor handprints either, as the constant mist and showers immediately wash such evidence away. It rarely rains heavily here. The sun occasionally banishes the clouds, but never for very long. The climate is a major contributor to the perpetually slick and sodden ground.”
The exhilaration Ruslan had felt on Treth and during the outward journey was fast draining away. “If your people haven’t been able to produce anything more convincing than a single inconclusive report filed by automatics operating in bad weather, why request that I and my companions be transported all the way here?” He regarded the director evenly.
A profound gesture executed with all three hands indicated that she appreciated his candor. “I did not make such an appeal. As you correctly observe yourself, based on the available evidence, someone in my position and with my responsibilities would not have made such a request. The decision to bring you here was made by senior advisors on Myssar itself. My modest and admittedly negative input was disregarded.”
For a long moment silence reigned among visitors and host. The reason for the director’s coolness was now understood. Their presence on Daribb and the need to accommodate them and their search would take away from resources Twi’win plainly felt could be more usefully deployed elsewhere. Being Myssari, she was too polite to display her resentment openly. That did not mean she was prevented from displaying a patent lack of enthusiasm. This was evident in her tone as well as her posture.
“It is thought by some students of your culture that one of your own kind who might be fearful of us might in contrast respond positively to your appearance.”
A simple explanation but one that made sense, he thought. Alone and wary of everything, a single surviving individual might well avoid contact with unknown aliens. Not every human had his gregarious personality.
“When can I go to this other city?”
“Whenever you wish. I am instructed to place all of the outpost’s resources at your disposal.” Her attitude toward the visitors and their objective stayed just the cordial side of frigid. “I would suggest, though, remaining here a day or so to acclimate yourself to your new surroundings as well as to familiarize yourselves with the layout of our outpost. While the gravity here is virtually the same as that on Treth and Seraboth, the atmosphere is denser and, self-evidently, far more moist. It can make for breathing difficulties, especially if one is called upon to exert themselves.”
That might be true for Myssari, he thought. As for himself, he found the damp air refreshing. His third lung would not need to engage here. Despite that, the director’s suggestion was a reasonable one.
“Your advice is welcome.” He glanced at his companions. “Hopefully, my friends won’t have any trouble. Despite your very understandable doubts I think they are still enthused about the report that’s brought us here. I know I am.”
“As I stated, I believe it remains nothing more than a slight possibility.” Good scientist that she was, Twi’win did not outright deny the prospect lest she be proven wrong. “Despite repeating the scouts’ flyover, we are still left with only the initial questionable sighting.”
“I think you are being overly negative,” Bac’cul told her. “If the Science Sectionary had not thought highly of the original report, they would not have gone to the trouble of sending us here.”