Lieutenant Commander Craig Cruikshank woke up as the cycle switched from night to day. Lieutenant Junior Grade T’Luni had already gone, and Lieutenant Junior Grade Tanna Irovin was still sleeping soundly on her palette. He stretched and sat up, fumbling awkwardly for his glasses on the crate beside him. 

He swung his legs over the side of his palette and reached for his pants. Once dressed, he made himself a cup of coffee and stepped out to the ledge opposite their quarters. He took a sip and leaned over it, watching the villagers begin their days. He noticed a gaggle of adolescents nearby and offered them a friendly wave and a smile, which they returned with enthusiastic waves and fits of giggling. 

He finished his coffee and returned the cup, then ate a quick breakfast and headed off to the Elder’s chamber, where they had been brought when they first arrived. He took his time, walking casually along the carved paths, taking in the sights and sounds of the village. The small laughing voices of children as they ran around, the musical resonance of the adults greeting one another. It was hard not to fall in love with the place. 

He was greeted outside the Elders’ chambers by a youthful villager named Aeso’mai, who asked him to wait patiently outside while the Elders finished their morning prayers.

“I’d like to ask the Elders questions about your religion,” Craig said. 

“When the prayers are concluded,” Aeso’mai said, bowing their head slightly, “I will inform the Elders of your intent.” 

Craig could hear the faint sounds of rhythmic chanting coming from within, so he resigned himself to waiting, pulled his backpack off his shoulders, and sat down on the ground, leaning his back against the cool rock wall. 

When the chanting finally ended, Aeso’mai reappeared in the archway. Craig pushed himself off the ground, slinging his pack back over his shoulder. 

“The Edlers have agreed to your request,” Aeso’mai said, motioning for Craig to follow them inside. Craig beamed, letting his excitement bubble to the surface as he followed Aeso’mai through the arch and into the Elder’s chambers. 

The three Elders were seated at the far end of the room on the raised dias, as they had been when Craig and his away team had first been led into the village, but this time there was a large, rather plush-looking woven mat on the floor before them. Elder Varu’lei, the one seated in the middle, beckoned him to be seated. 

Craig, not really being sure what to do, removed his shoes and placed them by the door, then turned and bowed as if it were some kind of martial arts dojo, before approaching the dias and taking a cross-legged seat on the mat. Varu’lei regarded him for a moment and then smiled softly at his awkwardness. When he was seated comfortably, they reached behind themselves and produced a large, heavy object wrapped in an ornately decorated cloth. They bent forward, holding the parcel out to Craig, who bowed his head again to accept it. 

“This,” Varu’lei said, their voice resonating musically off the walls of the chamber, “is the Talei’kohr. The Book of Becoming.”

Craig swallowed hard, unwrapping the cloth slowly with deliberate care. Inside was a hand-bound tome of layered plant fibers whose mottled pages had begun to turn brown from age. The cover, a thin piece of black slate, had carved into it the same spiral design he had seen repeated throughout the village, and the tunnel reliefs.

“May I scan this?” he asked quietly.

Varu’lei and the others bowed their heads together in a tight huddle, their multi-toned voices mixing into a soft jumble that the translator could not decipher. Craig felt sweat begin to form on his brow as he began to worry that his request had been too forward, and that the Edlers would take the book from him and refuse to answer any questions. 

After a short time, which felt like forever to the mildly panicking Chief Science Officer, the trio of Elders broke their huddle and relaxed back into their previous positions. Varu’lei looks intently at Craig, as if their eyes could see into him, like they were examining his soul. He braced himself for the rejection, but it didn’t come.

“This is a history of our people,” Varu’lei said softly. “We have agreed to let you take this knowledge with you, Craig-of-the-Surface-Walkers.”

Craig let out a huge sigh of relief. He pulled his tricorder from his pocket, set it to scan silently, and, placing the tricorder beside him, carefully opened the first page. 

Varu’lei placed their knotted, slightly webbed fingers onto the page’s faded text. “Our ancestors lived under the stars once,” they began, “before the Hunters came.”

Craig looked up at them. “Hunters?”

“Yes,” Varu’lei nodded. “They came from the sky, as you have done, but they were evil people. At first, they did not look like us, but eventually they began to take our people. Many, many of us were taken and never returned. Those who did return were different. We learned the Hunters could wear our faces. They could take over the bodies of others. But they could not take our eyes, so they burned them out instead.

Craig turned the pages. They were filled: hand-drawn illustrations of Palrillians working fields, then strange, gaunt figures among them under triangular shapes in the sky, then… violence. People fleeing, bodies lying on the ground.

Varu’lei pointed at a page bordered by the spiral design. “This is when the stone awakened.”

Craig leaned forward, pushing his glasses back up his nose. The drawing showed Palrillians huddled beneath a rocky overhang. The wall of rock then shifted and revealed an opening. Another page revealed the large stone doors they had come through, closing behind the Palrillians, as the horrible, spiral-eyed pursuers tried and failed to reach them. 

Craig let out an audible gasp. “They were protected.”

Varu’lei nodded. They closed their eyes and lifted their heads in reverence of the walls around them. The other two Elders followed suit. 

“The Stone shielded us from the Hunters,” Varu’lei said. “It opened hidden passages in the rock and then sealed them after. Every generation since has known the truth. The Stone is far more than the ground that we walk on. It is aware of us. The Stone is our guardian against the Hunters. It will not let them pass the gates.”

They pointed to a passage at the bottom of the page. Its writing was bolder, as if this were more of a tenet than a written passage. As they spoke, they moved their finger along the words. “Blessed are the minds that stand in their own light, for only they may pass through the Veil of Stone.”

Craig closed the book, and the sound echoed off the walls in the chamber. He wrapped it carefully back in the beaded cloth and lifted it with both hands towards Varu’lei. They took it, and Craig let out a breath that he was not aware he had been holding. 

“So…” he began slowly. “The doors on the surface. They… opened… for us, because…”

“Because you are pure of mind and intention.” Varu’lei finished. “If you had been Hunters or if you meant harm, the Stone would not have allowed you to enter. This is why we welcomed you as honoured guests when you first arrived.”

“Because we couldn’t be hostile to you.”

Varu’lei nodded. 

“Thank you, Elders,” Craig said, getting to his feet. He bowed awkwardly again, then turned, put his boots back on, slung his pack over his shoulder, and left the cavern. 

Almost on cue, his comm badge chirped. “Lieutenant T’Luni to Commander Cruikshank.”

“Go ahead, Lieutenant.” 

“Sir, I believe we might have a problem.”