text: Molla dug her claws through the soft earth with the enthusiasm of a cat sitting in rain. Miserable yet unavoidable. Then, her claw pierced through the wall and into a cavern. Her eyes burned at the sudden light and she shielded herself. She blinked. The den mother’s stories said that light from the solar would immediately burst her into flames, yet she felt fine. Instead of burning, she felt hot. Clearly, they exaggerated the tales for the runts. Curious, she plowed down the rest of the wall and into the cavern. A large ray of light bore down into the cave and onto a pile of rocks. In a mess of rubble, a man groaned. He wore a strange orange vest with silver stripes that threatened to blind Molla. She got on all fours and scurried over to the edge of the solar spot. The heat was unbearable. He must have been in significant pain. Molla tested the light, sticking her elbow into the light. The exposed pale skin immediately blistered. He must be from a different den, she thought. Her kind didn’t have the resilience to solar that he had. But she couldn’t just leave him. Pulling the rope and hook off her back, she set to work. The first several tosses she aimed for the rocks that covered him. They rolled off the pile, clinking loudly against the other stones. Molla flinched, inspecting her surroundings for any sign of Burrowers. The large eyeless moleman-eating worms hunted by sound. Her heart thumped in her chest as she heard the faint sound of slimy skin inching through dirt. She froze in fear. A beast emerged from behind a corner. Raising its black needle head, searching for sound. The man groaned again. Molla was helpless to do more than watch. The burrower poked its head towards him, then its snout touched the light. It roared in pain, jerking its head back, retreating to where it had came from. Molla’s breath rushed out of her chest and she fell to her knees. Even the apex predator of Subterra couldn’t handle the light of Sol. Then what was this man? With the rocks cleared, she landed the hook under the man’s shoulder and pulled him back into the safety of darkness. His skin was red, but that was the least of Molla’s intrigues. His hands were so short and skinny, and he bound his tiny feet with black leather, tied tight by strings. She tilted her head, confused. What kind of moleman could bear to have their feet bound like this? How did he dig with those pathetic claws? Her finger snapped through the strings of the leather and she found his feet, which were even stranger. They were tiny, clawless, and missing a joint. No, the joint was there. It was just tiny and useless. His den left this poor mutant to die because of his repulsive disfigurements. Molla huffed, the cruelty of some dens was too much. She nodded and wrapped the man around the chest with her rope and hook, deciding she’d take him back to her den. Hopefully, the den mother wouldn’t be too upset about it. But Molla refused to abandon him just because he looked a little silly. ~~~ The long tunnel of Molla’s making led to the den. She ignored the grunting and groaning of the man dragging behind her. There was nothing she could do until she got him somewhere safe. It would be foolish to stop in the tunnels. A stationary moleman practically asked a burrower to eat it. As she shimmied down the hole, she wondered how this mutant had survived to adulthood. It wasn’t possible for him to navigate the Subterra pathways with those feet, and digging was out of the question with his clawless hands. She shook her head. The poor thing probably had enough judgement for one lifetime. A glowing green circle was ahead of her and she smiled, finally entering safety. They rimmed the large room with star vines that emitted a comfortable dim light. “Molla-nati-nana, what is this?” The fat moleman with a yellow hat asked. Molla winced. He only used full names when he was angry. The boss waddled around her to inspect her passenger. Pressing his claws to the bridge of his nose, he sighed. “Where are the metals? The food? Why would you bring back some weird pet?” Molla moved back to the man and stood her ground between him and her boss. “His den abandoned him, they left him in a ray of Sol.” “Den? A ray of Sol? Molla, this ain’t a moleman.” She cocked her head, “that’s rude, just cause he looks strange, he’s still one of us.” “Look at it, if that’s a moleman, I’m a mermaid. Put it back.” “No,” Molla shook her head furiously. “I won’t abandon him.” “Save the compassion for your own kind,” the boss said, crossing his claws. A sign of agitation amongst the moleman. “Throw it in the pit with the rest of the trash.” “You’re a burrower, a beast! How could you?” “It won’t survive down here, anyway. It’s mercy.” “What? Of course he will.” The grizzly moleman poked his furry eyebrow with his knuckles. “Listen, just throw it away and forget about it. Those things shouldn’t be in Subterra.” “I don’t care, I’m saving him.” She pulled on the rope and headed towards the den gate. Two burly molemen, with edged steel covering their claws, blocked her path. “Move. I demand an audience with the den mother.” The guards looked at each other, and then to the taskmaster. He waved a dismissive claw, “let her through, she has the invoked the right to appeal. Nothing we can do. Not that it’ll do anything but waste your time. Den mother is gonna see it my way.” Molla wrinkled her nose at the boss, eager to prove him an oaf and a fool. She heaved the rope over her shoulder and pulled the man across the trail to the den mother’s dig. She’d understand. ~~~ The den mother’s dig was a paradise for moleman. Wet blue moss covered the round room and shimmered in the light of the star vines that covered the upper bowl of the dig. Artists had carved minimalist etchings of significant events in the den’s history and the moss clung in the deeper cracks, creating a visual of depth and life always present to those appealing to the den mother. Molla, barely above a runt, only had two rights. To life, and to appeal. Whenever a minion disagreed with a superior, they were allowed to appeal to the den mother. Luckily there wasn’t a line, and only the current appealer, the den mother and her personal guard were present. She was a beauty, fat lined her cheeks and gave her body curves impossible for the average moleman. Molla touched her tight skin self consciously. She’d never be able to eat enough to look like that. “So what do you say den mother?” The appealing moleman asked. “You agreed to a debt, a debt you agreed was over five shovel tadpoles. I see no reason to clear your debt.” “But he said--“ “You said, he said.” The den mother barked at the shrinking moleman. “I won’t tolerate hearsay as your only evidence. Pay your debt in full.” “And just forget about the five tadpoles? I’ll be broke!” “Tell me Doo-ga-tana, what do you think that dig of his is worth?” The den mother asked the moleman, swollen with muscle, beside her. The guard smiled, tapping a claw thoughtfully on his nest of chin whiskers. “How many flakes does a shovel tadpole go for? Ten? Twelve?” The appealer fell to his belly. Pleading, “My dig--“ “Quiet. Doo is calculating,” the den mother said. No longer needing to raise her voice to remind the moleman of the difference in their statures. “I’ve seen it, nice hole, pleasant location. Close to the tunnels. I’d say it’s worth... Eight hundred of those tadpoles.” “I can’t sell my dig for--“ “The punishment for failing to pay debts is exile. Downgrade or be a burrowers snack,” the den mother said. Doo chuckled, “your choice.” The moleman got off his belly and bowed, clenching his teeth. He left the room, his eyes downcast. His shoulder slammed into Molla’s knocking her off balance. “Move,” he grunted. Molla steadied herself and took a deep breath. She couldn’t let this affect her. The den mother would only respect her best. After regaining her thoughts, she approached and bowed her head onto the dirt floor. “Den mother.” “Your name?” The guard asked. “Molla-nati-nana. From the C tunnels.” “What is that?” The den mother asked. Molla lifted her head to see the den mother scowling. “during my tunnelling, I came across a cavern, I found this mutant. His den abandoned him. My taskmaster ordered me to toss him into the pit. I can’t do that. Please let me--“ “Slow down girl,” the den mother said. “Mutant? He hardly looks like a moleman. Is it... Could that be a human?” “Human?” The guard said, pulling his claws up into position to attack. “The evil children of sol.” The den mother nodded. “Yes, I’m certain of it. That has to be a human. Listen to your taskmaster and toss it.” “He is not an it,” Molla said. Was he really a human? She wondered. In the tales they were mostly evil, however, that wasn't true of all of them. “Didn’t you listen to my tales? The children of sol are poisoned by her heat. They are evil.” “I listened,” Molla said. She extended a claw to the first etching in the moss. “I listened with the language gifted to us by the human. Tales of the humans evil are balanced by tales of good. Tossing him like he’s trash is evil.” “Don’t preach to me, girl.” The den mother narrowed her eyes and scrunched up her rosy face. “I know where the spoken word comes from.” Molla bowed, forgetting her place as always. “I’m sorry den mother, I meant no offense. It’s just... It’s too cruel.” “Isn’t it more cruel to keep it alive? Their kind can’t survive down here long,” The guard added. The den mother nodded, patting him on the shoulder. “That’s right, that’s right. We can’t risk it being evil, and it would be more cruel to keep it alive.” It. It. It. It was a living being, not a thing. “Would you toss a runt that has cavern fever?” The guard took a step forward. “Den mother would never!” The wealthy woman raised her claws, sparkling with gems, stopping the guard. He shrunk back to his post, biting his lip. “Does this one dig with her tongue?” The den mother smirked. “She’s oftly quick with it. No, we do not toss our own. The den must keep hope that none of them will be abandoned. But Molla-nati-nana, he is not one of us.” “Then I will take the burden on myself.” Molla said, crossing her claws. Doo laughed, “a tunneler, take care of a human?” The den mother glared at her guard, “I will tell you when you may mock our appealers, never assume that you may decide that on your own again.” She sat up and dug her claws into the throne made of iron. “What do you propose?” “I-- I’ll nurse him back to health, a-and help him return to Solterra,” Molla said, stuttering on her own shock. Did the den mother just defend her? “Unacceptable.” “But--“ “Take him to the medic. You might get lucky and be able to return him, but I have zero faith you won’t accidentally kill him with those diggers. Sol, look how you’ve already dragged him.” Molla turned around and saw the man laying face flat on the dirt. His entire body covered in a coat of dirt, dust, and scraps. “Oh.” Then she turned back with a smile and pressed her forehead to the dirt, “Thank you den mother. Thank you.” She rushed out the room and headed for the medic’s dig. “Stop treating it like a sack of mushroom spuds!” The den mother called after her. The matriarch of the den leaned back into her throne and smiled at the tunnel. Doo cleared his throat and bowed. “I’m sorry for my earlier outbursts,” he said. The den mother waved it away. “Most appeals it’s fine, you and I both know how stupid some are. But that girl... She has the making of a den mother, don’t you think?” Doo opened his eyes wide, parting his lips, unable to say anything. “It’ll be interesting if she survives this burden.” ~~~ “It’s mostly contusions, no broken bones, but he took a bit of a blow to the noggin. Not sure how much of this was from his fall, and how much is your fault,” the medic said, adjusting his glasses. Molla tapped her claws together to a rhythmic tune, looking away to hide her grimace. “Yeah, suppose I should’ve been more careful.” The medic sighed and pulled back the man’s eyelid with his declawed hand. He waved a fresh bulb of a star vine in front of the humans eye and smiled. “At the very least, he’s not concussed.” He picked up the man’s thin hand and shook his head. “Incredible phalanges. These would be so useful.” “What? He can’t even dig, they’re useless.” “So closed minded. What good are your hands for besides digging?” He asked, pointing his declawed finger at Molla. “What else is there?” The medic leaned back from his work and raised an eyebrow at Molla. “Really? Why was it the den mother sent you to me? The medic.” She sucked in her lips and turned her head even further away. “Oh... Right.” “Anyway, without a concussion he’s safe to wake up. Get ready. He will be confused.” The medic moved over to his wall and pulled out a white packet. He sniffed it and jumped back. “Whew, that stuff is potent.” “What is it?” “Smelling salt. A whiff of it and you’ll be wide awake,” he said, smiling with slightly beady eyes. Molla furrowed her brow, “is that... Safe?” “Plenty!” He moved towards the human and took a deep breath. “You might want to hold him down.” Molla moved to the human’s side and pressed down on an arm and leg. “Like this?” “Sure. Sure. Yes. Ok, let’s go.” The white sack touched the top of the human’s lip and his eyes shot open. His focusing pupils shot back and forth from Molla to the medic and he hyperventilated. “Relax, you’re safe,” she said “Who... Where...” He looked around confused, his pupils shrinking, adjusting to the light. “Ah AHH!” his eyes focused on Molla’s claws. His strength was too much, and he jerked out of her press, scrambling off the table, hitting the dirt with a thud, backing away to safety. “We won’t hurt you.” He pulled a strange metal contraption off his hip and pressed a button. The sound was like the spring drip, only a hundred times louder. “Hello? Hello? Anyone hear me?” The machine crackled like a fierce water leak. He cursed when the tone didn’t change, throwing the machine at Molla’s head. She jerked back and shut one eye as blood trickled from her brow down to her eye. The medic rushed to her, but she held up a hand to stop him. Kneeling down to his eye level, Molla put her hand on her chest. “I’m Molla. You?” She pointed her claw to his chest. His eyes darted through the darkness, trying to find an escape. “Molla he’s not listening, we should--“ “Molla,” she tapped on her chest, then pointed to the man again. “T-t-troy.” She reached out her claws. He flinched away. “Molla won’t hurt Troy.” She said, purposely simple and direct. Putting her palms on his shoulders, she smiled. “Troy is safe now.” “Wh-what are you? Where the hell am I?” “We just saved you runt, don't be rude.” Molla shot the medic a one eyed glare, silencing him. She wiped the blood from her eye. “We’re molemen, this is our den.” “Ha...” Troy laughed, growing more hysterical by the second. “This is a prank? Where are the cameras?” “Camera?” Molla asked the medic. He shrugged. “These props?” He pulled on Molla’s claws. “Make up? Give it up, I’m not fooled.” The medic groaned, moving himself further away. “He’s lost his mind.” “He’s just confused. He doesn’t remember falling.” “Falling?” Troy pressed his hand to his face. “That’s right, I was... There was a cave in.” He sobbed. “I’m going to die.” Molla whacked him on the head with the back of her claws. He blinked and looked back up at her. “I will return you to your home.” ~~~ Troy complained about something or other for the thousandth time as they scaled up the tunnel. “How can you do this? Let’s take a break... Where the hell is my boot.” Molla stuck her claw into the dirt wall and hung to look down at Troy, who was sticking his useless hands and toes into the holes she made. “how many times do I have to tell you to be quiet?” Troy looked down and grumbled. Molla shook her head and resumed the climb up the tunnel she had made earlier. Troy didn’t stop his complaining, but at least he had lowered his voice. She couldn’t even make out the words. Then a rock dropped in her stomach. Where she burst through, into the cavern, was pitch black. The rays of Sol no longer burning bright. “No. No, where is sol?” “Huh? The sun? I don’t know? Is it night?” “Night?” Molla asked, poking her head into the large empty space. “You know, when the sun sets... And it gets dark...” Molla blinked at him, annoyed by all the words he used that made no sense to her. “Right, you live in caves, you wouldn’t know.” Troy said, climbing up onto the pile of rocks that buried him earlier. He cupped his hands over his mouth and tilted his head back. “Hello!” He shouted. “Can anyone hear me?” Molla’s heart dropped, and she jumped on top of Troy, covering his mouth. “What the--mphmm mmm.” He struggled to pull her paws away from his mouth. Molla was scanning the cavern and hissing at Troy for silence. Then she heard it. The unmistakable scratching of slimy scales on dirt. Her heart thumped, and she pulled Troy up to his feet, glowering at him. You idiot, her eyes saying. The black needle head poked out from a tunnel. It stuck out it’s sword like tongue, tasting the air. Tasting them. Troy’s eyes opened wide, and he opened his mouth to scream. A natural reaction to the horror of a burrower. She pulled her hands over his mouth, begging him in her mind to just shut up. Troy resisted and the two of them fell down the rock pile, bringing a wave of dust with them. The burrowers head snapped towards them and it rocketed itself forward. Molla stuck one claw into the dirt. She held on to Troy with the other. A burst of strength and she shot the two of them forward. One claw got stuck, snapping at the base. The earth roared behind them as the burrower slammed into the cavern wall. The world shook. A storm of stone rained down from the ceiling. Molla squeezed herself into a crevice, pulling Troy in with her. He looked down at her hand, covered in blood. It wasn’t just the nail that broke, the blood vessels were gone too. She would never be able to grow it back. Troy’s shoulder touched hers, the cramped space forcing them together. “Are you--“ “Shh,” what part of ‘be quiet,’ was so hard for him to understand? The burrower emerged from the dust, shaking its slimy body, letting the rocks slide off. Its head pointed towards them, then away, then back. Molla held her breath. It inched closer. The black tongue touching the edge of the crack that held them. She wrapped her arm around Troy’s and squeezed close to him. Tears burning at her eyes. Lips sealed shut. There was a snap. White light flooded the cavern from the hole where Troy had fallen. The burrower screeched, racing back to the darkness. “Trooooy!?” A voice shouted from above. “Are you there!?” “My crew,” Troy said. “They found me.” Molla slid out from the crack and exhaled louder than she ever had before. Troy was next to her, their arms still linked. The strange touch comforted her. He turned to her and pressed his lips to hers. She jerked her head back and pushed him away, “wh-wh-what was that?” Her face burned like Sol was shining directly on it Troy scratched at the back of his head, “ah. sorry. I don’t know what came over me. You saved me... Again.” “But that’s-- that!” “Trooooy!” Troy groaned, like he was under rubble again. He grabbed her paws and squeezed tight. “I’ll never forget you, Molla.” “Molla-nati-nana...” Molla corrected, wanting him to know her full name. “It’s beautiful... I’ll never forget it.” “Trooooy!” “I’m down here!” He yelled. Molla wrapped the back of her claws on his chest. “Don’t tell them about us, the molemen that is.” Her face flushed again. “Our world shouldn't exist together.” “I promise,” Troy nodded. She pushed him away. “Don’t you dare forget it,” she said, before scurrying back to the tunnel and diving in. Her paws pressed to her face, feeling so hot. She peaked over the ledge and saw Troy starring at her through the darkness, a rope landing beside him. “Goodbye mutant.” ~~~ Troy was wrapped in a blanket, and a line of his coworkers formed to embrace him. “We were so sure you died, dude,” one said. “But then your radio activated. Though nothing got through,” another said. Troy looked down to his hip, realizing he had left it at the medics. “Oh, I threw it when it didn’t work.” “You worrying about something as stupid as a radio right now? Insurance's got that. All we care about is you’re safe. It’s a miracle.” “Yeah it was a miracle,” Troy said. He looked at the flood lamps that pointed down into the cave, and into the darkness. “This might seem like a weird question,” he said. “But does anyone know anything about spelunking?” ~~~ /r/QuarkLaserdisc Critiques welcome.