2954-09-02 – Tales from the Service: Whispers of the Night
Langer helped Vann Rudenko crack the chemical heater on one of the silver ration-packs, and set it against a tree root while the contents warmed. Vann, after licking his cracked lips, was able to drink a little water unassisted while Langer changed the bandages on Fisher’s stump of a leg.
Langer sat next to Vann with his own ration-pack, and they ate in silence. Though his fingers arms felt as heavy as lead, he found he was able to manage to raise the food to his lips.
At first, the others watched Vann eat, but when it seemed he would suffer no ill effects from the meal, both Fisher and Langer dug into their own rations as quickly as their various injuries would allow. Though a ration was left out on the ground for Kaube, nobody cracked its heater.
The shadows were already growing between the trees when Langer stood up again. He looked silently at Vann, then winced. Vann realized with shock that his compatriot had tried to send a routine mesh-network message rather than speaking. Without a working implant, of course, that message would bounce back.
“Bah.” Langer shook his head. “Think you can help me set up some shelter, Rudenko?”
Vann held up a hand, and Langer took it with his. With help, Vann levered himself up into a standing position, leaning on the tree behind him. The still-healing muscles in his abdomen protested, but not nearly as much as he’d expected.
The pair unrolled an adaptive-camouflage shelter tent in almost perfect silence, broken only by grunts and hissed breaths as injuries were over strained. Vann could tell a silent conversation was going on between his two compatriots. For the first time since he’d enrolled in the Glorious Cause, he was sundered from the silent bustle of digital camraderie, the gentle whispered reminders of the Cause, and the watchful eye of the Incarnate’s will. It felt... cold. Like being left outside on a chill night, knowing that on the other side of a simple door, others were chattering gaily by a fire.
Of course, there was little chance the traffic between the other two was pleasant, but Vann hated the feeling of knowing he was being talked past, like an extinction-bound barbarian. They could be planning to leave him while he slept, and he’d never know it.
That was nonsense, of course. There were only three of them left now – four, assuming Kaube recovered – they'd need each other.
When the shelter was set up, Langer lit a battery lamp inside. Vann and Langer dragged Fisher into it, then the still-motionless Kaube. They talked for a little while, but the conversation dwindled as darkness outside became total. Eventually, Langer shut off the light, and they laid down on the bare ground to sleep.
Vann lay awake in the darkness long after the other two dropped off. The silence in his head made every noise in the woods outside seem extremely loud, as if animals were crowding around its flimsy polymer-cloth walls, crooning, croaking, and chirping. Supposedly there wasn’t an animal on Håkøya big enough to threaten even a lone, unarmed human but that was suddenly hard to believe.
Vann had heard a few stories from other Guardians about the spook-stories the locals told, of phantoms stalking the woods at night, of snares both physical and otherwise laid for the feet of unwary walkers in untamed places. He’d laughed at this as obvious nonsense then, but now, all those stories crowded into the space where his implant’s gentle reassurances should have been.
As Vann wondered how long he would have to deal with the vast silence in his own head, All of the nighttime noises outside the shelter suddenly went silent. He froze, even holding his breath.
Vann strained his ears, hearing only his pulse for what seemed like an eternity. Then, at the distant edge of hearing, so faint he wondered if he imagined it, there was a sound – a whispering noise, like the sound of fine cloth rustling. It was too quiet to even be gentle footfalls on the leaf-litter.
Vann sat up and listened some more, trying to find the direction of the sound. It seemed to come from first one direction, then another, in the pitch darkness within the shelter, but he was more sure of it now – there was something out there, something very quiet. He itched to creep out and see what it was – but didn’t dare. If he could see it, it could also see him.
The sound grew closer. Vann thought he saw the faintest glow of gray light underneath the edge of the shelter for a moment, but then it was gone; perhaps it was only a status light on one of the various electronic devices within the enclosure, but it didn’t seem that way. Vann tried to breathe as quietly as he could, irrationally terrified that whatever it was might discover he wasn’t asleep. That was ridiculous, of course. Wouldn’t he be safer if any creature knew he was alert?
Something brushed against the side of the shelter. That noise, Vann couldn’t have imagined. He turned to look in that direction, but of course he could see nothing.
A moment later, the night-time denizens of the forest began to make their accustomed sounds again. As they did, Vann heard – or imagined he heard – another noise, melodic, weaving between the sounds of the night as it dwindled away.
He fancied it was a voice, wordless, but filled with dreamy promise. It scared him at first, but as he dwelled on it, searching for meaning in it, it put his mind at ease better than the reminders from his implants ever had. That should have been more terrifying still, but he was at his limit of terror for one evening.
Vann eased himself back into a comfortable position on the ground. In a few moments, the forest sounds lulled him to sleep.
Though we published seen several convincing Gossamer sightings on this feed before Håkøya was a battlefield world, it is important to keep in mind that the existence of sapient native life on that world remains officially unconfirmed. As these creatures – whatever they are – become more well known, the likelihood of hoaxes also increases.
Could Vann Rudenko’s sighting be some sort of elaborate psychological operation conducted to demoralize stranded enemy soldiers on that world into surrendering rather than fighting to the death? Yes, theoretically. It would be brilliant if it was, frankly, and if the technology to make it work exists, you can bet Naval Intelligence would try just that sort of thing.
I still prefer to think of this as a legitimate sighting. The Gossamers, if they really are nonhuman sapients, don’t seem particularly hostile to humans, only wary of them, and I doubt they’d be able to tell the difference between Incarnation soldiers and Confederated civilians. Even if they could tell the difference, it’s doubtful they’d care to make it.