Osborne of the Diplomatic Core: The Valkyrie Saga

By Pul Q. Scye

This is a science fiction book set in the far future, taking takes place on many worlds and in a multitude of varying landscapes.

Most humans have left Earth, which is now a plastic wasteland, well over a millennia ago, and humans have moved out into the universe with the advent of the faster-than-light slip-drive technology, encountering the Planetary Organization in the process.

Osborne lives with his retired father in a world with no name. Osborne begins as a bit of a simpleton, which is how he has lived his entire life. Osborne leaves his father’s house and looking for a custodial position in the Diplomatic Core headquarters. But through a series of bureaucratic snafus and misadventures, he finds himself leaving his home world to serve the Planetary Organization of Peoples, or POOP, onboard the battleship Valkyrie. Osborne meets various challenges and adventures and finds an intense alien love interest with Lieutenant Guzel Tweela. From combating an overthrow of a monarchy, questing for a cure for giant wasp stings, suffering trauma, and additionally dealing with loss, Osborne grows and comes into his own.

Osborne battles and attempts to foil the nefarious plans of the Xie e De, a hostile alien race who seeks the destruction of the POOP, the Xie e De dogging Osborne’s every step. Osborne encounters a milieu of worlds, beings, and creatures in his journey through the universe. Osborne’s primary function as a diplomat evolves, as does Osborne’s character through the story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 6, 2021
• ISBN: 9781662450785

Book preview

Chapter 1

Leaving Home

We see Osborne, a tall, skinny, gawky human fellow, awkward in himself, with vacant blue eyes stringy brown hair, and a bit of a dimwit. Osborne works as a ranch hand for Mr. Toobles, a four-armed gray Baobeiren with six close-set eyes set in an oblong head. Mr. Toobles stands about the same height as a human toddler. He owns Mr. Toobles’s Sentient Pig Farm.

Osborne smiles as he guides a large hovering apparatus to the pigpen. Osborne then dispenses the pig’s slop from the hovering device once the hovering machine is over the pig’s trough. From within the pigpen comes a Thank you, my rump is large and succulent, perfect for barbeque. It is Mrs. Sow exclaiming her virtues.

Mr. Toobles walks up and jumps up onto a bench and starts vacantly looking at the pigs. How is it going today, Osborne? asks Mr. Toobles.

Okay, Mrs. Sow is bragging about her rump again today. She is eager for the slaughter, Osborne replies.

She is an eager one, she is, replies Mr. Toobles, looking a bit upset his eyes getting teary. I have to sell the farm, Osborne, says Mr. Toobles and chokes up a bit.

Osborne then asks, Why? concerned about losing the only job he has ever had.

Mr. Toobles continues on. Everyone is going kosher, no market for sentient pigs. I don’t know what to do with the pigs.

In their stall, the pigs are listening intently. The pigs talk among themselves for a bit, then one of the pigs remarks, I heard there is a lot of pork in the capital. Several of the pigs reply.

Then that’s where we’ll go. Maybe they aren’t too kosher up there.

And if they are? I guess we’ll have to get jobs.

The pigs pack their meager possessions into their little suitcases. The pigs begin to open the gates to their sty.

Where are you going? pleads Mr. Toobles.

Putting down her suitcase to answer, Mrs. Sow replies, We’re off to the capital.

Mr. Toobles asks Mrs. Sow, What will you do there?

Mrs. Sow replies, Work or be eaten, whichever.

Mr. Toobles, crying, now says, You were a good bunch of pigs, good luck to you Mr. Toobles wipes the tears from his eyes. Mrs. Sow picks up her suitcase as the pigs all trot off up the road toward the capital.

Mr. Toobles tears up as he says to Osborne, I am going to have to let you go, Osborne. They will be tearing down the farm soon.

Osborne chokes up and replies, Okay, Mr. Toobles.

They say their goodbyes. Osborne heads down the road away from Mr. Toobles’s Sentient Pig Farm to the bottom of the hill just two miles away from the five-room house he shares with his father.

The house is just a step up from a hovel. The outside of the house is in some disrepair, but the front yard is well maintained. As Osborne opens the door to the house, he steps inside. Osborne removes his large shoes as Osborne’s father asks, How’s work? His father has been a retiree for many years who had an earlier custodial position at the Diplomatic Core.

Osborne takes a seat at the dining table and says to his father sadly, Father, I lost my job. Mr. Toobles is selling off the sentient pig farm!

After a few moments of thinking, Osborne’s father replies, That’s too bad it was a good job. Osborne’s father continues, Are you going to look for work? The Diplomatic Core is always hiring.

Osborne replies, distraught, What would I do there?

Osborne’s father replies, Be a custodian like me. It can’t be much different from working on the pig farm. Osborne’s father puts dinner on the small dining room table.

They eat in silence, Osborne enjoying his peppers and eggs. After dinner, Osborne says to his father, I’ll go tomorrow and apply.

Osborne’s father advises Osborne, You had better pack some supplies. The lines are long.

Osborne says good night to his father and retires to his bedroom. Osborne lies in his bed too short for him, his feet hanging over the end of the bed. As Osborne sleeps, he finds himself dreaming of pigs dancing out of their sties.

Osborne wakes up uneasy tries to go back to sleep, but it is the morning he must go get a job. He says good morning to his father. His father has already packed Osborne a backpack full of supplies, mainly food and water, an oversized folding chair, a blanket, and a satchel with a dozen pepper and eggs sandwiches, all neatly wrapped. Osborne inspects the contents of the backpack and the satchel.

Is this necessary? he asks his father.

Yes, maybe not enough, his father replies, adding a packet of instant dinner, singing the jingle as he does so. One, two, three, open the packet enough for you and me. He zips up the backpack.

Putting the satchel and backpack on a dining room chair, Osborne says, Thank you, as he heads for the bathroom to take a cold sonic shower; as they could not afford to go for the hot sonic shower attachment, he brushes his teeth with on old-fashioned manual toothbrush Osborne dresses in his only pair of clean work clothes he has, Osborne hugs and kisses his father on the cheek to say goodbye.

Osborne’s father tears up a bit. Osborne’s father says goodbye to his son, knowing he may never see him again, and hands him a card for one hundred credits. Don’t spend it all in one place, Osborne’s father says halfheartedly, managing a slight smile. Osborne takes the backpack and satchel, and on opening the door, it falls off its hinges, then a window slams closed and falls out of its frame. Osborne turns, thinking to fix things.

His father shouts, Go, I’ll take care of it!

Osborne walks down the road, taking a last look at home as he puts on his backpack and throws the satchel over his shoulder. His attention now turns to the colossus of a building many miles ahead of him larger than any city. It is the windowless Diplomatic Core headquarters.

Osborne gets to the edge of the miles-long market filled with all sorts of beings and wears, the cacophony of noise as trading is going on, the alien languages from every corner of the galaxy, all prompting him to trade. The sights, the sounds, and the smells overwhelm Osborne’s senses. The Diplomatic Core ever within Osborne’s eyes, he knows he has many miles yet to travel.

As night falls, the market takes on an ominous tone, shops are closing up as others open, the lighting is scant, and the noise of the day turns to hushed whispers. Dark figures loom about, and the overarching smell is that of rotting meat and death. The twin moons are high in the sky, casting a dim, eerie light. Osborne hurries to leave the market, but there is no end to the market. Osborne’s only guidance, the glow from the Diplomatic Core building, looming larger as he continues to approach it.

Osborne feels the pangs of hunger grip him, so he reaches into his satchel, taking out a pepper and egg sandwich. As he unwraps the sandwich, three dark hooded figures surround him. Hock sull su tok, the hooded figure in front of him says, then he repeats himself. The hooded figure’s language is unknown to Osborne. The hooded figure in front of Osborne then says, Hock sull su Kral, ominously prompting laughter from the other two hooded figures.

The hooded figure in front of Osborne reaches out a heavily clawed hand, making a give-me gesture, palm up, closing its fingers repeatedly, the dim light shining off its black claws. Osborne knows the meaning of this give me gesture, so Osborne hands over the sandwich. The hooded being eats the sandwich in one bite, wrapper and all. Then the hooded figure in front of Osborne says, Hock sull gro su tok, to the other two hooded figures. They then move in front of Osborne, making the same gesture as the first one did. Osborne hands over the sandwiches, one to each of the hooded figures. The hooded figures devour them and leave, disappearing into the shadows.

Osborne is visibly shaken by this encounter. The fear has made his hunger dissipate. He continues walking at a quicker pace, his eyes straining to make out his surroundings, not wanting to be caught off guard again.

Osborne has walked nonstop for many hours. The sun begins to rise, and the market transforms back to its daytime noise. Osborne, weary and exhausted from his travels, finds a bench and sits to eat one of the remaining pepper and egg sandwiches. He finishes, thinking he will close his eyes for a few minutes. Gripping his satchel tightly, he dozes off, only to be awakened by an agitated shopkeeper, a being with a shrill voice and large eyes. He doesn’t seem to possess a body, just arms and legs coming from his sizable round head. Human, human, no sleep, he keeps repeating to Osborne till Osborne rises. The shopkeeper points, saying, Go sleep there.

Osborne says, questioning the shopkeeper, Sleep there?

Yes, replies the shopkeeper.

As Osborne heads to where the shopkeeper pointed—a collection of tents, with a large central tent, which seems to be the check-in area with a desk—and behind the desk is a young human male with a name tag reading Richard.

Hello, how may I help you, Richard asks.

A room, Osborne says.

Twenty-five credits for the night, but for humans, fifteen credits, Richard replies.

Thank you, says Osborne as an automaton in disrepair shows him to his tent. A small space, a chair, a bed, and that’s all the room holds.

Communal bathroom is marked, says the automaton, then it leaves. Osborne, exhausted and still sleepy, removes the blanket from his backpack, wraps it around himself, lies on the bed, and falls immediately to sleep. He is awakened by the automaton early the following day. Checkout time in ten minutes, voluntarily or by force.

Osborne gets up. Osborne folds the blanket and shoves it into his backpack. He stops at the communal bathroom; it is a horror show, liquids of all kinds on the floor and walls, even the ceiling. Osborne finds what may be a toilet to relieve himself; when Osborne does, the water starts gurgling, and a voice from the toilet says, Thank you. Osborne runs out of the bathroom as Osborne quickly zips himself up. He says goodbye to Richard as he runs out into the street. Feeling safe from the strangeness in the bathroom, Osborne turns to memorize the sign above the tent hotel to look for another one before nightfall. He walks quickly, eating a pepper and egg sandwich as he moves through the crowds.

The sun begins to set, and he finds another tent hotel. He goes to the desk, and the person there looks exactly like Richard, same name tag, same name. Hello, how may I help you? Richard asks.

A room, Osborne says.

Twenty-five credits for the night, but for humans, fifteen credits, Richard says, precisely the same interaction as the day before.

A shiny new automaton shows Osborne to his room, same as before, except this one has a private bathroom. Osborne goes to inspect the bathroom, clean and pristine. There is even a shower. Osborne disrobes, uses the facilities, then takes a sonic shower, an icy shower but better than nothing. Osborne dresses again, removes the blanket from his backpack, and wraps himself in it. He starts to drift off to sleep. He is awakened in the night by beings coming and going into his room and lining up to use the bathroom.

Osborne says, What’s going on here?

One of the beings in line for the bathroom says, It is the only bathroom.

Exasperated, Osborne pulls his satchel and backpack into bed with him, throws the blanket over his head, and tries to sleep.

The shiny automaton comes to wake Osborne up. Checkout time in ten minutes, voluntarily or by force, says the shiny automaton.

Osborne collects his blanket, folds it up, puts it into the backpack, grabs his satchel, and goes to use the bathroom. It is a horror show just like the other one. Osborne relieves himself, no voice this time. Relieved, Osborne walks out to the desk and asks Richard, Why did you put me in the only room with a bathroom?

Richard says, Sorry, sir, remodeling, and turns away Osborne, not knowing what there was to expect leaves.

The Diplomatic Core is closer but still a way away. Osborne starts running, just trying to close the distance between him and the Diplomatic Core. Osborne’s backpack and satchel beat against his body as he runs, with each step bringing the Diplomatic Core building closer.

Osborne has now left the market, and the plethora of beings behind him, only a very few beings near the Diplomatic Core building. Osborne reaches the outskirts of the Diplomatic Core’s lawn. The sun sets, and Osborne is thankful that the yard is brightly lit.

He makes for the massive freestanding sign for the Diplomatic Core and finds shelter under it. He still has a few miles left before he reaches the building itself. Osborne takes out his chair and blanket from his backpack. With his backpack and satchel firmly underneath him, he tries to get to some restful sleep, but he ends up in an uneasy sleep. Osborne looks at the colossal Diplomatic Core building, stretching from horizon to horizon and impossibly, tall as he dozes off.

Osborne is awakened by two soldiers in heavy bright-blue armor and large black guns. Hey, get up, you can’t camp here. Leave, they command.

Osborne says, Yes, sirs, nervously as they are pointing the guns directly at him. Osborne fumbles to wrap up his blanket and fold up his chair, grabbing his backpack and satchel, and Osborne quickly moves along. He stops for a moment to put his chair and blanket away in his backpack and secure his backpack and satchel. The soldiers slowly dog his every step until they are sure he is leaving the area

Osborne runs again, then slows to a jog as he sees the building entrance coming into his view. There are many placards in dozens of languages. He finds the English instructions on a tiny placard instructing all applicants to follow the applicant entrance’s arrows. He follows the arrows for a long while, the sun has set, but the building’s lights allow him to see the arrows.

The patrols of bright-blue-armor-clad soldiers hurry Osborne along. Hungry, he removes a sandwich from his satchel and walks as he continues to eat it. The soldiers tell him again to move along. Hence, he eats as he walks. He turns a corner and encounters a line of beings in various states of exhaustion, all waiting to go into the applicants’ entrance. Soldiers patrol the line, telling the waiting beings to be silent in multiple languages. They mostly comply. Those who do not are dealt with harshly, chastised, and teased by the soldiers.

The bodies of the beings who are exhausted and dead are left on the ground until they are picked up by an automaton putting the possibly dead or unresponsive bodies into its large body of a dumpster. Several automatons are doing this job, with the occasional I’m not dead yet coming from inside the automaton’s dumpster of a body. Osborne is disturbed by these occurrences. He knows not what to do, so he remains silent and trudges along the now silent line.

After a few sunrises and sunsets, Osborne reaches the huge applicants’ entrance. It is a vast wall of doors with attendants, giant burly hulking beings, not to be argued with one at each entry point directing the beings where to go. Those not moving swiftly enough are grabbed by the head or uppermost part of their body and tossed into the applicant area, sometimes with pained screams, other times with a weeee. It would seem some enjoy the tossing.

After entering the applicant’s entrance, he is taken aback by the overwhelming sight of line after line, beings everywhere, with the occasional being flying above the line, having been tossed by the giant burly hulking beings at the entrance. Not knowing where to go, Osborne looks for the information booth. He sees another small placard in English saying information with an arrow pointing at a round booth, crowded with beings, all talking at once. The red-tentacled, multi-mouthed, eyeless being behind the table is answering questions in many languages and handing out forms. Osborne pushes his way to the front. He is now pressed against the table by the beings behind him, struggling for breath.

He tells the eyeless being, Custodial application, but it comes out, Cu app. The eyeless being, not knowing what Osborne asked for, the eyeless being hands Osborne a form closest to the beings tentacle. Osborne looks at the form. He can’t read the language, but he can read the line number to go to, so he gets in the enormous line. Osborne is exhausted and is drifting in and out of consciousness as Osborne keeps falling asleep, standing up. He can see the end of the line. Many of the beings that reach the counter are being sent to other lines. Osborne hopes this is not true in his case. Finally, it is his turn as Osborne stumbles to the counter.

The being behind the counter is a bug-eyed, twitchy being, continually moving. It asks Osborne his name in many languages. He says Osborne as Osborne dozes off again. The being asks Osborne his job preference again in many languages. Osborne dozily mumbles custodian, but it comes out crost. The bug-eyed being, not knowing what to do, just puts Osborne in as a first-level file clerk handing Osborne the paperwork. Osborne pleads with the inattentive clerk; the bug-eyed being says, Move along. The bug-eyed being repeats it several times. Osborne continues to plead. Finally, soldiers show up and smack Osborne in the back of the head and tell him to move along. Osborne moves along, rubs his sore head, and grabs the paperwork.

Osborne peruses the paperwork, and it says to wait for an automaton. Osborne eats another pepper and egg sandwich while waiting. After many days of waiting, Osborne has finished all the pepper and egg sandwiches and the packet of instant dinner, singing quietly to himself, One, two, three open the packet enough for you and me, as Osborne finishes his instant dinner, an automaton comes to escort Osborne. The automaton turns into a cart with a left-facing seat. Osborne sits as seat belts automatically wrap around him, securing Osborne to the seat. The automaton brings him to the elevators. They enter the elevator. Osborne notices the elevator only has one button with a downward pointing arrow. The automaton pushes it, then there is a sensation of zero gravity as the elevator speeds downward.

Chapter 2

The File Room

They disembark the elevator. Osborne is now deep in the building’s bowels, a long, dark, wide corridor full of doors. A giant spider-like being carrying files moves into the absolute darkness that the corridor disappears into. They arrive at a door marked hard file room. Osborne disembarks the automaton, and he enters the room and goes to his shared desk at what would be the beginning of the room. Osborne peeks into the file part of the room; it appears to have no end. It is harshly lighted and vast and seems like it is another world full of file cabinets.

Osborne meets his coworker. He is a bulbous, multi-eyed, tentacled creature hanging from the ceiling. He makes unintelligible noises as he tries to communicate with Osborne. The automaton returns, giving Osborne a small blue package. The package unfurls, wrapping Osborne in a jumpsuit. Then there is a smell of burning as the jumpsuit incinerates Osborne’s street clothes that he was wearing under the jumpsuit, a painful experience. The automaton gives Osborne a series of painful injections full of nanites with a multi-pointed large needle without a single warning. Suddenly the pain subsides, and he can understand the bulbous, tentacled creature with several inconsistently placed eyes, some close together some on opposite sides of its body, who continually says, File, file, file. Osborne sits at his desk and stows his backpack and satchel under the desk. Osborne is sitting across from the being. Osborne attempts to introduce himself to the creature.

The beings emits a vile odorous fluid at Osborne and the being says, Hello, I a Bandian, me be Greeb. Soaked by the fluid, Osborne wipes his face with his hands. Greeb says, Check desk, again emitting the fluid soaking Osborne. Osborne complies with Greeb’s instructions and finds a towel in the top draw and an umbrella in the second draw.

Osborne mindlessly says, Thank you.

Greeb says, Welcome, again soaking Osborne with fluid before he can towel off or open the umbrella.

Umbrella firmly in place, Osborne begins to work following instructions on his computer screen, which says take the file and file it, no further instructions. He asks Greeb what to do a rain of fluid hits the umbrella, and Greed says, Take the file and file it. Osborne is at a loss as files arrive through a chute attached to the ceiling. Osborne begins pushing buttons on the console in front of him. Eventually, a file draw comes flying across from the room’s endless expanse with a screeching sound as it approaches. Osborne ducks, sure that it will decapitate him; it comes to a dead stop beside Osborne’s desk. A section of the man-sized draw glows, as does the file draw green light. Osborne places the file in the draw’s glowing portion. The green light turns to blue once the file is in its place. The draw speeds away back to where it came from. A chute next to the computer screen glows and emits a pellet. Greeb shouts, You good did, and an inordinate amount of fluid hits the umbrella. Osborne examines the pellet. Being rather hungry, he eats it. Suddenly he is overtaken by a feeling of euphoria and fullness his energy renewed.

Through the room’s open door, a group of seven pointy-nosed, large-eyed, squat creatures, having long limbs with three-fingered hands, each finger ending in what appears to be a razor-sharp claw. They appear to be traveling carrying bags and loose belongings. At the sight of the creatures, Greeb begins to screech and curse, throwing fluid everywhere as Greeb throws his tentacles out, striking the creatures hard, causing them to cry out in pain as they hurriedly run away into the room of file cabinets.

Osborne asks, Who are they?

Greeb replies with disdain and disgust, Laoshu De. Greeb, after a long pause, says, Lain, and adds, They eat file clerks, with a usually large amount of fluid spew.

Osborne stops and asks Greeb to repeat himself as Greeb is frantically pushing a yellow button marked Purge, all the while Osborne worriedly thinks, I am a file clerk, as Greeb explains they eat file clerks. Greeb asks Osborne to push his purge button centered in the array of buttons on his side of the desk and the only marked button, but nothing happens. Greeb exclaims, Never work.

Osborne lies to himself, nothing to worry about as he files more files, more pellets, no sense of time of day or night, just files dropping and file drawers flying back and forth. Things are running smoothly until a file drops, and the lights turn red as an alarm sounds. The sound fills Osborne with dread. Greeb’s tentacles start flailing. The computer screen says in bold flashing letters, Drawer Unresponsive / Drawer Jammed / Drawer Unresponsive. Osborne starts frantically pressing buttons, a panel behind him opens to reveal seven pieces of labeled equipment. There are a holographic drawer finder, a backpack filled with pellets, an electronic map, a small pistol, a grappling hook with a long rope tied to it, a tool kit, a flashlight, and a belt with the word help inscribed in big letters and several places to attach things. Greeb shouts, You go find a drawer! Now! Osborne puts on the belt, attaches the grappling hook and rope and a flashlight to it, puts the gun in its holster, slips the tool kit into the backpack, and puts on the backpack. Osborne takes the holographic drawer finder in hand, turning it on in the process. There is a red dot and a ping sound and an arrow pointing forward as he moves away from the desk, dodging under Greeb’s flailing tentacles.

Osborne moves into the expanse of the file room; the red lights of the file drawer are as far as he can see and an enormous sky is above him with clouds, but he knows he is indoors. Puzzled, he continues to walk. The pings are steady as he walks. He removes a pellet from the backpack and eats it. These pellets are different, no euphoria, no sense of peace, but a sense of urgency and vigor. Osborne follows the red dot, and the ping sounds past row upon row of enormous filing cabinets. Looking up, he cannot see the tops of the cabinets. They just disappear into the clouds.

He knows not how long he has been walking, but Greeb and the desk are far behind him, lost over the horizon. As he moves on, it begins to rain a muddy reddish rain. Osborne continues on his way.

Osborne passes a row of cabinets, and inside the row, he sees a decapitated skeleton. It has a belt with the word help inscribed in large blinking letters. Curious, he walks over to the skeleton and touches the word help on the skeleton’s belt, creating a small multicolored projection an inch off the belt reading help. The tattered rags draped on the skeleton resemble his uniform; it must be the previous file clerk. Osborne sighs. Close by, he sees a backpack. Osborne inspects it inside. He finds a tool kit, an electronic map, but no pellets. He surmises this poor chap went into the stacks and ran out of pellets, but where did his head go? Osborne spies the poor chap’s skull, lying crushed a few feet away from the poor chap’s body.

At that very moment, Osborne hears a scraping sound above him. It is an enormous beast, bracing itself with its large, powerful limbs between the cabinets. With its huge clawed appendages, it leaves large claw marks on the cabinets. It just stares with its large murderous eyes directly at Osborne. Osborne fumbles for his weapon drops it, staggering backward onto the poor chap’s skeleton. The beast climbs down slowly, seemingly enjoying the fright in Osborne’s eyes. Reaching back, Osborne throws the rib cage of the skeleton at the beast. It doesn’t even flinch. Osborne reaches back again, finding the poor chap’s pistol. Osborne aims the pistol and quickly fires and misses. Hitting a draw beside the beast’s head, which springs from the cabinet, striking the beast, pushing its head into the file cabinet across from the beast’s head against the file cabinet across from the drawer that has sprung open. Goo sprays Osborne. First, he secures the new pistol, then he wipes the goo from his face.

Pangs of hunger grip him; he eats another pellet, and the pangs subside. He consults the tracker as the rain stops. Osborne continues down the path as the tracker indicates, not knowing how much farther the unresponsive file drawer is. Osborne stops momentarily. As file drawers whiz by, he looks up, and a flock of some sort of flying, squawking creatures move far overhead. He sighs and begins to follow the tracker once again. After a while, not having any indication of the amount of time he’s been in the file cabinets room, a small red muddy lake appears. It seems the floor beneath this section of cabinets has collapsed. Only the very tops of the cabinets are visible. How to get across, he thinks it would be to swim, but he does not know how to swim, so that quashes that idea, as do the large objects moving beneath the surface.

Osborne figures he can jump from cabinet top to cabinet top. Osborne steels himself and jumps, landing on the first cabinet, a bit slippery due to the mossy greens growing on the cabinets’ tops. He makes the next several jumps successfully, the last jump remains before him. Osborne jumps and lands slipping off the cabinet’s top into the waist-deep water close to shore. Behind him, he hears splashing. Osborne turns to look. He sees a large tail leave the water, propelling a mouth full of teeth toward him. Osborne scrambles to shore, desperately trying not to fall and be eaten. As his feet meet the muddy shoreline, he runs down the aisle turns to see the toothy monster beached itself. Its mouth large and open, no prey to eat. It slams its mouth shut with a loud wet clap. The creature recedes into the water.

The tracker beeps, urging him onward as he walks his uniform and shoes dry quickly, trading the wet sloppy sound of his footsteps for dry soundless pads. As he walks, he notices scratches on the cabinets. The size looks similar to the scratches left by the creature that he had killed. Osborne grips his pistol tight. The tracker is now beeping wildly and pointing ahead, leading him down a row of file cabinets. The cabinets are marked with strange symbols that depict a creature on a spit as the Laoshu De Lain dance around the spit. The ground beneath Osborne’s feet is littered with the bones of various creatures. He picks up a bone to examine it, obviously gnawed clean, he thinks, as he feels the bone’s smoothness. The pellets have given Osborne uncharacteristic courage as he continues to follow the beeping tracker further down the row. The deeper he gets down the row, the more noise he hears sounds like drumbeats and unintelligible talking.

As Osborne draws closer, all the noise stops, only silence as he enters what appears to be a settlement of tents and drums around a fire still going with a man-sized spit. The tracker is pointing straight up now, high above him. He sees all the file drawers light red, except for the one far above him with no light at all, sighing again and popping a pellet. Osborne readies the grappling hook and rope. He hears footsteps all around him. He drops the grappling hook and rope and grabs his gun. As Osborne’s hand touches his gun, suddenly, there is a blow to the back of Osborne’s head, rendering Osborne unconscious. Osborne wakes to find himself inside a cauldron filled with liquid up to his chin, his hands tied in front of him, legs tied below him, and various things are floating around him, in the liquid. The liquid smells spicy and is burning the skin of his chin a bit.

A Laoshu De Lain happily walks into the tent and is singing with a grotesque smile. It goes over to the cauldron and grabs a ladle, spooning some of the liquid over Osborne’s head. The Laoshu De Lain says, Must baste before barbeque, roast, roast, roast, eat, eat, laughing it exits the tent and the drums start up again.

Osborne surveys his surroundings. At the far end of the tent is a table on which rests all of Osborne’s equipment. There is an assortment of cooking implements on the table. Osborne begins to struggle to free himself. He holds his breath to reach the bindings around his legs. After several attempts, Osborne manages to untie his legs. Standing now, he throws himself over the edge of the cauldron. He lands with a thump as the liquid from the cauldron spills out, the sound masked by the ruckus celebration outside. Osborne manages to get on his knees and crawls quickly over to the table. Bracing himself against the table to stand up, he finds a knife and moves it to the edge of the table, sharp end out, as he rubs the bindings around his hands furiously against the cutting edge of the knife. Finally free, he grabs all his equipment. Osborne reattaches the equipment to his belt, and he puts on his backpack as his clothes dry by themselves. Osborne keeps both pistols out, the same Laoshu De Lain that marinated him enters the tent.

Seeing Osborne out of the cauldron, it lunges at Osborne, teeth and claws bared, ready to rip Osborne to shreds. Osborne fires both pistols at the airborne creature, striking it once in the head, and it falls lifeless to the ground at Osborne’s feet. Osborne’s other shot ripping through the tent, catching the tent on fire, then the drumbeats stop as Osborne exits the tent. Faced with a plethora of Laoshu De Lain charging at him, Osborne fires into the crowd. One goes down, two go down, but they keep coming. Remembering his earlier encounter with the creature in the file cabinet row, Osborne fires with a clear shot at the file cabinets. He fires wildly. The cabinet’s file drawers begin to fly out of their slots, striking the Laoshu De Lain, killing several at a time causing them to panic. The Laoshu De Lain run in all directions. Osborne continues to fire as they flee. Making sure the coast is clear, Osborne returns his attention to the tracker, confirming that the file drawer in question is right above him, placing both pistols and the tracker in his belt.

Osborne then readies the grappling hook and rope feeding out the rope. As he throws the grappling hook straight up, he misses, then he throws it again, another miss a third time. The grappling hook crashes down, hitting a Laoshu De Lain that was sneaking up behind Osborne square in the head, knocking the Laoshu De Lain to the ground. Osborne turns. Seeing the Laoshu De Lain still moving, he, in one action, drops the rope and grappling hook, removes a pistol from his waistband, and fires, shooting the Laoshu De Lain in the head. He fires a few more rounds around the area, setting more tents on fire. He holsters his pistol and returns to the grappling hook and rope. Several tries later, he successfully manages to secure the grappling hook. He tugs the rope a few times to ensure it’s secure. Satisfied, he removes his backpack. Reaching in, he removes a handful of pellets and pops them. Reinvigorated, he removes the tool kit from the backpack and opens it, revealing a rubber mallet and only a rubber mallet, his only tool. He puts the empty tool kit into his backpack, puts the backpack back on, and climbs the rope. Rubber mallet in hand, he reaches the dysfunctional file draw.

Osborne is about twenty feet off the ground, then he bangs the file draw with the rubber mallet many times, but with no effect. Osborne limbs a little higher and raises his foot kicking the dysfunctional file cabinet drawer hard. The lights flicker, and he kicks it again. The green light is on, and the file cabinet drawer quickly moves out of place, dropping Osborne and the grappling hook into the file cabinet draw.

As the file cabinet drawer starts to rush out of its slot, the rope hanging out of the drawer, two Laoshu De Lain grab onto the rope. The Laoshu De Lain climb quickly. Osborne sees the rope jerking. He peers over the side, seeing the Laoshu De Lain approaching fast. Osborne tries unsuccessfully to unhook the grappling hook and rope. Osborne removes his pistol from his belt and blindly fires over the side of the speeding file cabinet draw. Osborne fires one shot, then two shots, and finally three shots. The rope goes slack and stops jerking. Osborne just hears the rushing of the wind and the fading screams of the Laoshu De Lain plummeting to the ground, Osborne having severed the rope with his pistol shots.

The drawer picks up speed. Osborne hangs on for dear life, wrapping one arm around what is left of the rope, hanging on with his other hand. The pellets kick in, giving him the extra strength he needs to hang on even though his arms are dislocating from the shoulder. The pain begins to build. Osborne knows he must hold on. The speed stealing his breath, he puts his head down.

The drawer comes to an abrupt stop, flinging Osborne into the wall, knocking his arm back into place. The grappling hook flying into a pipe near the ceiling denting the pipe. Greeb excitedly flails his tentacles, spews liquid everywhere, and screams, Returns he does, and then suddenly the lights turn all red and alarm messages saying, Please wait for purge in progress, as a clear door lowers from the ceiling on the boundary between the office area and the file cabinets. A green mist fills the file cabinet area beyond the door. Greeb gleefully says, "You fix it,