Subterra Heart

Chapter 17: Connor Rocha

Bastet spoke for a long time. She had been bored beyond belief for nearly three thousand years, so she shared her story freely with Connor. She told him of the Anai, the humanoid cat-creatures who had arrived on Par-12 thirty millennia ago. They were a highly intelligent race, and like humans, they had modified the atmosphere beneath the planet's crust to suit their needs and avoid the surface radiation. Unlike humans, they'd attempted to populate almost the entirety of the planet's tunnels. And that was a massive amount of space to fill with breathable air. Their cities were cut off from each other by the planet's natural, toxic gas. And that was when they found the Dwellers.

At first, Dwellers were creatures akin to mere brain stem parasites, not even sentient. But they were strange, very strange. They produced spores - almost like fungi - and every creature native to Par-12 was either host to a Dweller, or infected with a Dweller's spores. These spores produced what humans had come to call "rochagor," which allowed infected creatures to survive Par-12's toxic gases. As Bastet pointed out, Connor would have died from his earlier exposure to the gas if it weren't for this. She could smell the presence of rochagor in his blood. The ancient Anai had also wished to take advantage of this. At first, inoculation with rochagor had simply killed the Anai, as did attempting to host the Dwellers. The Anai and Dwellers weren't evolved to be symbiotes. But the Anai were intelligent – intelligent enough to modify the Dwellers, just as they'd modified the planet's air. They tweaked the Dwellers until an Anai could finally serve as a host.

"Why not just stick to messing with the rochagor?" asked Connor. This story was starting to sound like his granddad's. Bastet didn't seem to mind the interruption. She grinned and flicked her tail.

"Because the Anai found something interrresting and new," she purred. "We Dwellerrrrs lengthen the lifespans of ourrr hosts. We communicate telepathically with the creaturrres infected with our sporrres. We enhance darrrk vision and strrrength and speed. They would have been fools not to host us."

Connor shifted. He was sitting cross-legged, and his foot had fallen asleep. "So what's the catch?" he asked. "I don't see your Anai friends here. Where'd they go? And what's this got to do with me or Tess?"

Bastet's purr grew louder.

"The Anai's modifications gave us sentience," she said. "Minds of ourrr own that could think clearly. While our Anai hosts used us to make them kings among theirrr people, we too wanted to rrrule. Unforrrrrtunately, some among my kind chose to take contrrrrol of those they'd infected, drrraining their Anai hosts of what you might call 'humanity' and feeding on the population infected with their sporrres. The Anai became afrrraid, hiding their children from infection and trying to kill off our sporrres in their bodies. Some succeeded, most died. My own people burrried me and my host beforrrre fleeing this city. Theirrr species went extinct within a generrration. I was left trrrapped and alone, barrrely able to seek out lower symbionts. I ate my host. He should have lived ten thousand yearrrs. And then, you humans arrrrived. I was eagerrr to see if you would be a good match – as were many other Dwellerrrs – but I could not rrreach you. By the time I had gathered enough rrrats to be my eyes and earrrs, I found that our spores were farrrr more damaging to yourrr bodies than to the Anai. But your kind still lasted longerrr than many of our otherrr creaturrres, and when you died, your corrrpses were highly nutrrritious."

Connor's stomach twisted. "You cause bloodrot," he muttered. He'd known ever since Bastet had mentioned rochagor, and he'd guessed even earlier. It sounded right to say it out loud though. He felt sick. "You've been hunting us."

Bastet chuckled. "Oh, I have not trrried to infect humans in a long, long time," she said. "Fenrir has made cerrrtain of that."

"Yeah, that buddy of yours you'd mentioned. How'd he do that?"

"A deal. One of yourrr own offered to be his host and to supply discarrrded humans from Hearrrt for Fenrir to infect and feed on. In exchange, he would use these humans to prrrotect your city until they degrrrraded. Yourrr people have kept up their end of the deal – mostly." Bastet began washing herself absentmindedly. "Fenrir was quite angrrry when you humans created Rochagorrrosis, and even angrierrr when you made the parrrlin to survive it." 

Connor shifted and stretched out his leg. He'd been sitting on the ground for the entirety of Bastet's story, and his foot had fallen asleep. His skin tingled as blood started circulating again. He frowned.

"So how often do you go around talking to this Fenrir character if you've only just gotten yourself a host?" he asked.

"Neverrr," said Bastet. "My rrrats tell me all." As if in response, a rat scurried into view and stood on its hind legs until Bastet shooed it away. Connor watched with a raised eyebrow.

"Of course," he muttered. "Cool. So somewhere down here, there's a parasite named Fenrir who eats people and is pissed off because my granddad figured out a better way to give us a nice, slow death. Am I missing anything here?"

Bastet tilted her head. "Oh?" she said, and began to pace. "Your ancestor gifted humans with Rochagorrrosis?"

Connor scoffed. "Wouldn't go so far as saying 'gifted,' but yeah. Same with the parlin. He was a stubborn idiot."

Bastet threw back her head and laughed. "Oh, how fun! How deliciously interrresting!" she purred. "I couldn't have drrreamed of a more fascinating starrrt to my new life." She chuckled again. "Connorrrr, she said, "Fenrir is angrrrry that humans would darrre defy him. With Rochagorrrosis and parrrlin, we Dwellerrrrs can no longer infect you." She grinned. "And Fenrir likes contrrrol. He likes powerrr. He won't settle for creaturrres other than human. You, Connorrrr, are a thrrreat. And he has been exterrrrrminating otherrrrs like you. Does that answer all of yourrr questions?"

A chill ran up Connor's back. The disappearances from the other day were still fresh in his mind. He shook his head. "No. I've still got plenty more for you."