NPC Wormie – The tale of a worm

[+ Vitor S. Silveira]

I love these. I love how some of our fellow writers write off script characters, or animals. Even what is suppose to be lifeless, like a Space station or Space itself.

We have a long tradition in this, one of the best sims I read was way back when I was fairly new, and it was from the perspective of Ops. There was also a frog, if I remember correctly, and a probe, or was it a torpedo?

Forgive me but the amount of awesome writing, in what ever shape it happens, is such that I can't recall all the amazing things I read over the years.

 

And we have one more side "character" or "would be pet". So keeping in the tradition of bringing more than Characters to life, here is Wormie.

All thanks to the talented @Jovenan

 

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((Jungle, Lesser Prash, Ura Neteos III))

((A long time ago))

When Wormie first sensed presence, it knew nothing about the world. It knew not of the stars nor of the galaxies, instead, the reality in its entirety extended no further than the burrow under a tree where it had been born. The universe itself contained but three living beings: Wormie, the tree, and another being it didn’t yet recognize. It was not a large universe Wormie was born into, but it still felt enormous to it.

The other being, the one that was neither Wormie nor the tree, protracted its head towards Wormie. It was much larger than Wormie in size, it alone took much of the space in the universe. It was much stronger than Wormie, too, and possessed greater speed and intelligence, Wormie could tell that; it could hurt Wormie if it so chose, end its short existence and force the reality back to the state where there were only two living things. Yet, it did not. Instead, it moved its flexible head away and towards the back of its own body. With small teeth, it pierced a hole, made a breach to a sac it carried on it. Wormie was near when a dribble of liquid trickled down the body of the other being, and the water rained down over its head. The water was cool, wet, refreshing against Wormie’s skin, and it opened its mouth. It drank the water its mother provided, feeling the pure liquid run down its throat. It gained strength, it felt power and delight soar in with every gulp.

Wormie was happy.

When Wormie gained age, it experienced more of the universe and learnt that there was more of the world besides the burrow under the tree. It sensed there was more water than what its mother carried with it, there were puddles, streams gushing along the trunk of the tree and on the surface of the same ground the tree stood. It rained, heavily, and the droplets bombarded the soil. Wormie had been born in the rainy season. Mother would sometimes leave the burrow once Wormie was strong enough, it would go out and drink, to fill the sacs and restore what the two creatures under the tree consumed. It cared of Wormie, and Wormie felt love.

For all Wormie knew, the rainy season lasted forever, and Wormie would forever be loved.

((Approximately Stardate 240111.05 onwards))

It had been weeks since it had last rained. Wormie could not count days nor predict the courses of the currents against the blue of the heavens, but it knew when it needed to store water. It remembered not its mother, nor the tree under which the burrow had been, not after the ages that had passed since it had departed there, but it still knew the skills which the generation of evolution had passed through the bloodline. The rainy season was followed by the rainless days, and Wormie needed to take water wherever it could find some. Find water, drink, and don’t let go of it. That was what Wormie remembered.

But it needed not be alone. Wormie hissed, set out a call into the wild. Some days, another being heard it and came to Wormie. On the other, the wind would deliver a cry to Wormie, and it would respond in the kind, uniting the two lone beings. That didn’t happen always, but it didn’t allow such occurrences to bother it. It had water for days, it had food, shelter. Wormie was happy.

Something moved among the bushes. Wormie turned to see, expecting a mate that would have heard its call, or a fellow creature of the jungle. When four large beings crossed the coverage of the foliage, Wormie didn’t know what it was that was before it. They weren’t like Wormie, nor were they birds or those with scales either, they were something that it didn’t know. Curious, it looked at the creatures, and perhaps, for it couldn’t tell, they were looking at Wormie.

One of the creatures left the others and approached Wormie. Fear rushed to its mind, pulsated in its veins like fire as it realised the creature was likely a predator, a lethal beast that desired to devour its flesh. It needed to flee! Wormie had never before been chased by a hunting predator, but like the instinct to gather water, the genetic coding in the every cell of its small body screamed of terror. The water sacs shook in its back as it tried to depart this cursed place and leave its potential assailant behind, alone screaming the terrifying roars that Wormie could hear.

Except… There was water. Wormie stopped and looked behind. It could tell there was water, and the genetic imperative was overturned by another. Seek water. Store water.

One of the creatures was holding water. Wormie couldn’t understand how it did so, seemingly, its long appendix held similar sacs as those that were on Wormie’s back. The water moved, too, and the creature had become smaller before Wormie’s gaze, bending its lower appendices below its elongated torso. Wormie should have retreated, disappeared into the shadows and the foliage. It didn’t, it couldn’t, as the call for the moving water, life-nurturing liquid, rare on these days, was just within its grasp. Unable to resist, it rushed towards the water, reached out to the container. The other creature’s body served as a platform as the water moved away. The beast of the jungle didn’t resist Wormie, nor did it attack, flee, hurt. It only made a sound Wormie couldn’t understand.

The water was just there. Reach. Extend towards it. Wormie must have it, Wormie needs it. The impulses, instincts, natural desires and demands repeated the electrochemical order on the web of neurons. It ignored the sounds the other creatures made while surrounding it. It only focused on the water the pale thing with black and blue fur was holding.

Unexpected, Wormie felt lighter. It stopped its pursuit for the water as its elementary brain struggled to comprehend. It didn’t feel anything, not pain, not pleasure, just the release of pressure along its back. It… It was losing water! Only then did Wormie realise that one of the other creatures was standing by, holding an item of unknown type against its sacs. They were stealing, taking away what Wormie had laboured to gain and carry, they were taking advantage of Wormie! It panicked, wriggled, but the creature that had held the water was turned against Wormie, betrayed it and bound it still. The brain that had so tried to make sense of the universe was now flooded with fear, and a simple order echoed in its head and in its veins: “escape!”

Then, Wormie won. It managed to overpower the much larger creature and release itself from the deathly grip. As its underside touched the ground, it jiggled, jiggled faster than it ever had, towards the safety of the bushes and the leaves. The other creatures moved, but Wormie was faster than any of them; when it finally looked back, all the predators were in the same place it had left them, unable to comprehend the speed and elegant finesse it had had to resort to in order to avoid the peril. Wormie didn’t stop, it kept going, until the predators were just a dark memory that would soon vanish.

And once more, Wormie was alone. Only the chirps of the birds and insects kept it company, and the shadows were drawing longer. Wormie still had water for survival, it had shelter and food, and thanks to its unmatched skills, it still retained its life, undefeated, and, as far as it could tell, unending, eternal.

And Wormie was happy.

((A long time later))

The rainy season was over once more. Wormie had left the burrow under a rock, and soon, after it, a pack of small beings of Wormie’s kind arose from there too. Wormie didn’t know how many times had the same happened before, for it could not count, but by now, it knew that the time had arrived that it should walk away, never to see the small beings again. Wormie needed to find water, for it would be harder to find soon, and the small beings needed to do the same. After the rainy season, there was always dryness. Water was needed, water was required, water was essential.

Wormie couldn’t remember much further than the last rainy season. It didn’t remember where it had come from or if it had been on this ground forever, it didn’t remember the time the predators had almost taken all its water. Gone were its mother and its first own children, gone would be the small beings that still wondered whether to follow it or to wander into the jungle and find water. Wormie wasn’t there to nurture them any longer, and soon, they were not there either. Wormie was alone once more.

When one doesn’t remember the days of the past, one doesn’t know the ease of youth. Should Wormie remember, it would know that it would no longer be able to avoid the predators with haste nor grace. Its journeys were long and slow, yet the great light in the sky was faster, permitting the darkness to fall sooner. Wormie didn’t know that, it had nothing to compare but the times of late, when the days were always like this. But, for now, it had water, so it had no reason for worry or distress. It had all it needed.

Then, relief. Waited, expected, yet a surprise. It was soon over.

Cool liquid poured over Wormie’s head and body, the weight in its back became lighter. It was tired, even if it had still a long journey to pass, but it didn’t feel that such travels mattered any more. It allowed sleep to creep in as the sacs in its back ruptured, having grown thin of the years, and the heart that had beaten for so long prepared for the rest. Wormie laid down its head and felt the rush of pleasure take over as the water washed over it. It had done what it had needed, and now, it was rewarded, at long last, with pleasant, cool and calm, a bath.

And Wormie was happy.

End scene
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Wormie
A ‘camel worm’

as written by

Lieutenant Commander Jovenan
Chief Science Officer
USS Artemis-A
E239911J11