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At least the fish were nice, Apollonia thought. She was sitting as close as she could, Y next to her, and the fish seemed very, very happy.
She could recall dozens of cheap, fake fish she’d seen in her life. They swam around, acted in cute ways, some even would come to the surface so you could pet them. But they also would often break and keep swimming in circles, or have bits of their pseudo-skin peel off to show the tech beneath. The creepiest were the ones that sang to you. She had vague memories of an event with the singing kind, and one kid had been so freaked out that he’d started crying.
These were definitely alive; she thought so, but had asked Y as well, and he had concurred.
“They are indeed biological! And that water is swimming with tiny organisms besides them that are also true organic beings! I believe that some of them might match my sample from earlier. I wonder if people actually touch that water?”
He seemed to give something like a shudder at the thought.
“What kind of fish are they?” she asked.
“Starting alphabetically, there are two Clownfish, a Bicolor Blenny, a Yellowtail Damselfish-“
She listened to his words but began to tune out, as something itched at her mind. It took her a moment to even realize that something was wrong, but then the awareness was upon her, and she sat back, grabbing Dr. Y’s metal hand.
“Nor, are you- Oh, Ambassador. Hello.”
Kell had walked into the room, and he was not alone. Three other beings were with him, human in appearance, but their faces unnaturally calm and blank. Two flanked him on either side with the last behind.
“Doctor. Ms. Apollonia,” Kell said as a greeting. He did not look happy.
Though Apollonia felt like she could hardly see his face. The effect was so much worse, it had to be because of the others. They, too, were Shoggoths. And there was something about them, a resounding hostility that made her almost want to vomit.
Clenching her abs, she fought that feeling down.
“Here for the inquiry?” she asked.
Kell gave her a slight nod, then moved away.
“It’s your fault we’re here,” she said after him, the words just slipping out of her mouth.
Kell did not answer her, and she felt both stupid and ashamed after speaking.
Y was watching her, but she couldn’t make herself look at him as she whispered;
“He killed it. Brooks is getting blamed, but Kell murdered Michal Denso.”
“I am not sure that what still existed in that body can truly still have been said to be Michal Denso,” Y replied, also quietly. “And I do not say that easily. Truly, Nor, did you know a better solution to what you believe Kell did?”
“I don’t believe he did it – I was there. I saw it.”
“I was not,” Y said. “Therefore I cannot accept with absolute certainty. I will give credence to your understanding, as it is beyond me. But the events are so alien and bizarre that it is hard to give them my full weight of belief.”
Apollonia fell silent for a time, watching Kell, who stood with his entourage on the other side of the room. They, too, were watching the fish tank, but were not sitting. Just standing . . . unblinking.
The Shoggoths around him, their hostility wasn’t directed at the humans in the room, she realized. Just Kell.
They knew, she thought. They knew, and . . .
Maybe they agreed with her.
“He did something that was terrible,” she said to Y, feeling unable to really lay out more. “Something unforgivable.”
Over the next few minutes, more people arrived. They were all grave individuals, and Apollonia only felt more and more out of place. They were mostly human, save for two short Sepht who slithered, tentacles entwined, straight through to another room, and a Dessei who was taller than most of the humans. He had a notably large crest that was a vivid shade of blue, as opposed to Lieutenant Pirra’s green. Her tablet told her that the size of the crest meant that it was a male.
One very old man came in. She realized she had not seen many people who looked as old as he, his skin having that slightly crinkled shine and age spots. His eyes, though, were brown and clear, and he moved without difficulty.
A drone came and beckoned her, and as she rose, she noticed that Dr. Y was not moving.
“I cannot go with you,” he told her, his voice more somber than normal, though still lighter than it seemed the situation warranted. “But do not worry, it will all be fine. You are not in trouble.”
That was what they always said, she thought. ‘We just want to ask you a few questions . . .’
But what choice did she have? She followed the drone.
Glancing at her tablet again, she saw that it was almost 1830.
Other Terrestrial 