The Journal Of Aber Crombie 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Herbert says Humanoids and other mammals leave trace signatures of a unique collections of microbes on everything we touch. The microbes on our skin are almost as good as DNA for identifying an individual. The microbe detector identified and cataloged our individual microbe colonies when we first turned it on, and it ignores us when looking for other signs of life. Otherwise it would be beeping constantly. I tell him the communication systems that I install have a similar way of detecting individuals, and uses a persons unique electrical emissions to tag communications. I don't know why that is not how you login to a system instead of the archaic password method. Herbert says they tried other ways in the past, finger prints for example. Turned out the finger print on a dead or severed hand would get people into a system just fine. Microbes had the same flaw, but he thought the electrical emissions might be a better approach. Then he pointed out that I was not focusing on our problem in the current situation.

The device is detecting life. Not just fungi or random bacteria. It has recognized a colony of microbes and is referencing the catalog for individual identification. There could be a human here? Humans? That would be great. Herbert is quick to correct me. He said individual, not humanoid. There could be some sort of wild animal surviving in the city. Or even if it is humanoid, there is still the possibility it is not friendly to trespassers. I am surprised at Herbert's sudden move to the dark spaces my imagination lives in. And a little worried by that. We both start looking for movement in every corner and shadow in the space.

Beep.

The device has more info. Classification: Feline.

My dark imagination immediately starts listing the possibilities to me: lions, panthers, yule cats, werecats.

Beep.

Sub Classifications: House Cat. Polydactyl.

Herbert and I are both baffled. On this apparently lifeless planet, no known human inhabitants, there is a Hemingway house cat? The device must be broken.

Beep.

Name: Webby.

How could it have a name? Herbert explains, just like he and I have been cataloged by the device, every other creature it has encountered has also been cataloged. I doubt that the machine named it Webby. Herbert says he entered our names when the device identified us. Someone using the device must have entered their cat's name also. Maybe it ran away from the transport station. That would explain how it got here.

As we discuss our disbelief that a cat named Webby is roaming around this structure, Webby appears from a shadow along the back wall. We stand frozen as Webby approaches us. He rubs himself around Herbert's leg, then heads back in the direction he came from. A few meters away, he stops and looks back at us. Herbert and I look at each other. This can't be happening. It's a cat. And it seems to want us to follow it. Herbert takes a couple of steps. I start walking also. The cat continues its path to the shadows on the back wall, stopping only briefly once more to make sure we are following. Then it stops again at a doorway on the back wall, and waits for us to catch up.

The opening is to a stairway, leading down into darkness. Webby rubs around Herbert's leg again, then darts down the stairs. We both pull out our head strap torches. With their bright light, we peer down the stairs. Webby is waiting at the bottom. I ask Herbert if we are really going to follow a spooky cat into an basement abyss on a deserted planet. Pretty sure I have seen how that movie ends. He just asks how we are on time. I tell him we have plenty of time to look around for an hour or so and still get back to the station before sunset. That is, if we get back up these stairs alive. Herbert starts down the stairs. I follow.

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At the bottom of the dark stairs is a dark hallway. The cat saunters ahead of us, seeming certain we are following. Webby turns left at the intersection of another dark hallway. We turn left. We can see a light from a door's window about halfway down the hallway.

Beep.

The light from my headlamp bounces toward the ceiling with my jerk reaction. We stop walking. The cat stops in front of the door. Herbert pulls out the microbe detector, but before he can even check it...

Beep.

Herbert echos the information to me.

Classification: Humanoid.

I say we should wait and see if the humanoid has a sub classification, or a name. I wonder if they know we are here. Webby obviously did. What if they do too? Or what if they don't? Imagine you are all alone on a deserted planet and there's a knocks on the door. Webby is still waiting on us.

Herbert starts walking again. After a couple of seconds, I follow. Herbert calls out a greeting and asks if anyone is here. He repeats it in several more languages. One that I didn't recognize at all. Herbert's knowledge is constantly amazing me. No one answers. But the door handle turns and opens just enough for Webby to prance happily into the lit room, with one glance back at us before he entered.

No one came out the door. No one called out to us. But the open door was an obvious invitation in response to Herbert's greetings. I stop a few meters from the door, but Herbert goes right up to the door and slowly pushes it the rest of the way open. He smiles at whoever was on the other side, and enters. I hesitantly continue to the door.

Inside is a room full of odd looking machines and structures. Metal arches and cubical frames. On the far side of the room, a man with wild white hair, wearing a long brown robe, stands turning dials, and flipping switches. Both he and Webby look back at us for a second as if to make sure we are paying attention, then the man returns his focus to the settings, and Webby walks away and finds a nice place to curl up for a nap.

The man makes some comment about it taking us long enough to get here. Then the microbe detector beeps. He looks back at us. He says his name is Marvin, and that those old gadgets always get it wrong and call him Merlin. He mumbles something about someone's warped sense of humor. It beeps again. He matter of factly says the sub classification is Wytch, not Sorcerer. Herbert looks at the microbe detector and raises his eyebrows at me to confirm what the man had said was true. Then with a satisfied once over of the instrument panels, Marvin asks if we are ready to go.

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