Mythicals

by Dennis Meredith

  “So, I am not of that planet? I was not born on Thera?”

  “No,” said his father. “You are not a Theran. You were born here and we brought you to Thera as a baby. Earth is your home. We are your species . . . humans.”

  “Humans? That’s what our species is called?”

  “Yes,” said Christopher. “And we call our group Pilgrims. Our mission is to emigrate to Thera. To make it what we call New Earth.”

  “But Thera . . . it’s a planet like ours?”

  “Yes,” said Christopher. “Many decades ago, before the environmental catastrophe you see here . . . ,” he gestured out over the ruined landscape “. . . some scientists discovered and captured wormholes that appeared on Earth. The holes opened when the solar system moved through a region of space that we think contained concentrations of dark matter. It’s invisible, except for its gravitational effects. It basically created localized holes in space-time . . . wormholes.”

  “The same wormholes as the Mythicals use?”

  “Exactly. The scientists explored the other side of these wormholes. They discovered that they were transdimensional apertures to parallel universes . . . some much like ours . . . some very different.”

  “But the Mythicals don’t know that,” said Jack.

  “They’re not sure. But we know that all these universes connected by wormholes are parallel. And each universe in these multiverses evolves slightly differently. Now, we have had legends of mythical creatures here on Earth, like the ones on Thera. But apparently, they just visited. They didn’t use Earth as a penal colony the way they used Thera.”

  “So, the Mythicals are—”

  “—what might have evolved on Earth-like planets, given different environments, different courses of evolution. They are alternate versions of us,” said Christopher.

  “But they’re fairies, werewolves, and so forth. The people of Thera are exactly like us.”

  “Some universes evolved in closer parallel than others. Through the most incredible luck, our scientists found that one of our captured holes opened into the universe that contained a close parallel to Earth . . . Thera. It was a godsend for us. A way to save our race.”

  “But Thera isn’t ruined. Why is Earth?”

  “Apparently, the different universes can be on different timelines. There can be different conditions. Here on Earth it’s the year 2080. On Thera, it seems to be earlier in their civilization. They have not yet ruined their planet.”

  “What happened on Earth?”

  “Basically, we were stupid. Stunningly foolish. We kept burning, polluting. We allowed carbon dioxide levels to rise . . . the planet warmed . . . and it triggered a catastrophic, positive feedback effect.”

  “Positive feedback?” Asked Jack, his voice thickening with emotion.

  “Runaway climate change. As Earth warmed, the polar ice melted reducing heat reflection back into space, making it even hotter. The Arctic permafrost melted; and lightning triggered vast fires in the tundra, producing what’s called the Carbon Bomb . . . a massive release of carbon dioxide. The warming caused Earth’s huge peat bogs to dry out, and lightning sparked fires in those bogs that have burned for decades. They released billions of tons more of carbon dioxide . . . and created the smog that you see. All this produced the death blow. The clathrate gun.”

  Jack felt a rising nausea, as he tried to process the stunning revelations. Shaking his head, he had just enough voice to ask, “Clathrate?”

  “Huge deposits of methane frozen in the depths of the seabeds. Billions upon billions of tons thawed, and the methane eruptions essentially killed the oceans, turned the Earth into hell. Billions of people died of starvation, heat, cancer, wars.”

  “Didn’t the governments do anything?”

  Christopher shrugged and shook his head in resignation. “Our scientists warned them of the dire future. But the politicians . . . the corporations . . . none of them had the will or the courage to take the necessary measures. Too little, far too late. Then the governments collapsed. Now we are trying to save the remnants of our civilization.”

  “How many?” Jack asked, his voice now only a whisper.

  “Maybe a million, scattered in fortifications around the world. We’ve been sending as many people through the wormhole to Thera as we can. They’re in isolated villages scattered over the planet. But some of us are in positions of power.”

  “And you planned to just take over?”

  Christopher turned to James and Louisa and began to speak in a language Jack did not understand.

  “What are you saying?” demanded Jack. “What language is that?”

  “English,” said Christopher. “Your native language. We will teach it to you when we are all on Thera.”

  “Why don’t you just ask the Therans for refuge?”

  “We knew we would be treated like an invading force. We—”

  “You are an invading force!”

  Christopher ignored the outburst. “We believe this discovery of a refuge planet was a sign from God. That we have been chosen to save it from the creatures that would destroy it. We decided that we would disguise our identity as a Theran cult . . . Pilgrims. It was a useful subterfuge. We would work to save Therans from themselves. And if that didn’t work . . . well . . .”

  “The Palliation? You are working for the deaths of billions of these . . . people?”

  “The Palliation wasn’t our idea,” said James. “But since the Mythicals are launching it, we must save ourselves. We will repopulate Thera with humans who have learned the consequences of what happened on our planet. The Therans are not human, after all. They just look human.”

  “So what are you asking me?”

  James took his son by the shoulders. “We’re asking you to save us. We’re asking you not to reveal the Palliation . . . the plan that will save your own people.”

  • • •

  A fusillade of bullets raked the warehouse from the attacking werewolves penetrating the walls and shattering windows, erupting razor-sharp shards of glass onto the cowering Mythicals.

  Steve shrieked in pain as a bullet struck him in the gut, sending the troll staggering back, yellowish blood streaming from the wound. Wendy, who had been tending to the wounded young woman Ally, emerged from the apartment to rush to his side. Her feathered wings beating furiously, she lofted him back to the safety of the interior apartment, and began to treat him.

  A bullet shattered the skull of a leprechaun, sending him to the floor, his eyes staring sightlessly.

  Another bullet slammed into Mike’s chest. The ogre looked down at the wound, uttered a dismissive hmph, and burst out the door, thundering toward the werewolf positions.

  A razor-sharp piece of glass slashed Sam’s shoulder, sending blood streaming down her arm. As she grabbed a cloth and knotted it tightly around the wound, her eyes transformed from blue to a gleaming fiery red. She bolted to the shattered window, and stared outside for a long moment. Then, seeming to spot her target, she leaped out and disappeared.

  A’eiio and E’iouy bent to the wounded, helping them to the safety of the inner apartment. There, they found Wendy tending the wounded Ally. Satisfied that the young woman was stable, Wendy turned the Ally over to them and spreading her wings vaulted upward to the ceiling, drawing from her white tunic a gleaming sword.

  None of them noticed that Vladimir had vanished, slipping out a back door.

  Outside, Mike took two more bullets before reaching the nearest praetorian and wrapping a massive gray-green hand around his throat, snapping his neck. A nearby werewolf raised an assault rifle to fire a fatal volley at the ogre. But an instant before he could pull the trigger, a white blur swooped down from the black sky, snatching away the rifle and sending it flying into Mike’s hands. He swung the weapon around and began emptying its explosive rounds into a knot of attacking werewolves, who collapsed, dead before the withering salvo.

  Wendy banked into a tight turn and attacked again, sailing alon
g a line of praetorians, slashing with her sword, sending one after another of them slumping to the ground like furry rag dolls, their black blood soaking the ground.

  The doors to the building flung open, and a roiling gang of Mythicals erupted out of it, rushing the werewolves, who fired wildly. Some Mythicals collapsed, dead or wounded. But others managed to reach the werewolves, swarming over them.

  The remaining werewolves fought off their attackers and retreated to gather into a tight defensive formation, their backs against the thick woods. Together they raised rocket and grenade launchers, preparing to obliterate the enemy.

  But even as they raised their launch tubes, the praetorian nearest the forest uttered a surprised yelp and disappeared into the darkness, to the sound of the dull thud of flesh slamming against wood. Another praetorian was flung high into the air slamming into the building, his shattered corpse collapsing onto the ground.

  Giant, furred bodies emerged from the depths of the forest, grasping werewolves and flinging them like dolls. One werewolf managed to launch a rocket into the attackers, a flash of light from the fiery blast revealed a dozen bigfoot wading into the cadre of praetorians, smashing them against the tree trunks, shattering their bodies.

  The air outside the building was filled with the rattle of gunfire, the howls of werewolves attacking, the shrieks of their dying.

  The Alpha and his lieutenant, however, stole away from the battle, circling around to find an open window. They knew their real targets were not among the combatants. They sought the leaders, the fairies. They slipped into the bullet-riddled building, listening for the sounds of their quarry. Amid the shouts, screams, and gunfire of the battle outside, they heard faint, urgent voices from deep within the structure.

  They made their way toward the voices, finding the door to the apartment. The lieutenant slammed his huge body against the door, sending it crashing into the room. The Alpha plunged in ahead of him. Both brought their weapons to the ready.

  They found A’eiio, E’iouy, and four other fairies tending to wounded. Elves and leprechauns huddled against one another in fright.

  “Please don’t,” said E’iouy. “Please don’t shoot her.” He gestured at his wife. “She’s pregnant.” He moved his body between the werewolves and A’eiio, his jaw set, ready for the bullets that would come.

  “Good,” said the Alpha. “It will make more of an impact on the others when they find your bodies.”

  He signaled to the lieutenant flanking him, who clicked his rifle on automatic, and raised it to fire.

  But he didn’t. His arm ripped away from his body and slammed against the wall, still gripping the weapon. The eight-foot praetorian unleashed an agonized shriek, as his massive body lifted into the air and sailed against the far wall, smashing against it and falling to the floor, now only a quivering carcass.

  The Alpha whirled around to face the doorway behind him and raised his weapon to fire at whatever had torn apart his lieutenant. But his body jerked and shuddered, and his head flung back, lolling on his neck. He managed only an agonized grunt. Those in the room heard the crunch of bone and the wet sound of ripping flesh, but could not see what was happening, until the Alpha’s body fell backward into the room, his chest torn open, his fangs bared in the rictus of death.

  Sam stood there, her eyes gleaming red, her wounded left arm wrapped in a bloody cloth, her right hand grasping the Alpha’s still-beating heart. Her small, naked body was covered in black, glistening werewolf blood.

  Jack stood leaning on the door of his apartment after he’d closed it behind him, his head bowed for a long time. He needed the support. The shock of what he’d just seen and learned drained him of even the will to go to his couch and collapse.

  After his time on Earth, he’d told his parents and the man Christopher that he needed time to think. His quiet apartment was the best place. Even though at one time his rooms had been the site of a horrifying attack by monsters. But these Mythicals were monsters no more. They were friends on what he now knew was an alien planet.

  Thera, his so-called home, was an alien planet! He shook his head, still trying to wrap his mind around the idea that the forests and cities of Thera, where he had grown up and gone to school, were not his real home.

  Earth was his “home”—that ruined, polluted, dying planet. And he was human, not Theran.

  He needed a drink. He went to the kitchen, pulled out a glass and opened the cabinet to get the bottle of liquor. The room suddenly darkened. He closed the cabinet to see, hanging outside the window, a fat, grinning vampire.

  “What are you doing?” he exclaimed backing through the kitchen toward the living room. He realized the large, grinning, pug-nosed face was that of Milorad. And somehow, the large vampire had managed to climb a sheer building wall all the way to the fourth floor.

  Milorad tapped on the window, still grinning pointing to the latch, asking to be let in.

  “You should let him in,” said a deep voice behind him. He whirled to see the vampire Gennady looming at his bedroom door. “He doesn’t climb very well,” said Gennady, nodding at Milorad. “Your bedroom window was unlatched, however. I didn’t think you’d mind if I let myself in.”

  “What do you want? Why are you here?” was all Jack could think to ask.

  A knock on the door, prompted Gennady to action. “You get that,” said the vampire matter-of-factly. “I’ll get the window.” He glided into the kitchen, as Jack realized his only escape was through the door that likely had another vampire on the other side. His only option was to open that door, whatever his next move would be.

  Standing in the doorway were Vladimir and Radomir, who continually swiveled his neck back and forth to peer up and down the hall.

  “What do you mean breaking in? What’s this about?”

  “We are sorry,” said Vladimir. “The werewolves have brought in soldiers. They attacked us at our building. I knew we would beat them, but I figured they would come after you, so I contacted the others, and we came here. I couldn’t get you on the phone. Where were you?”

  “Attack?” Jack backed away into the apartment, the vampire intrusion forgotten for the moment. “Was anybody hurt?”

  “Yes, and some were killed.”

  “Sam! Is Sam okay?”

  “Last time I saw her, she was wounded, but she had gone red. So, she will be fine.”

  “Gone red? What’s that?”

  “It’s a hyper-aggressive state that pixies transform into when they’re enraged or threatened. Their eyes turn red. They attain incredible strength and agility. I suspect she is stalking the leader of the attackers.”

  “But she’s not badly hurt.”

  “I’m sure not. Can’t say the same for whoever she goes after.”

  “And you think the werewolves will come here?”

  “I’m certain of it. That’s why we had to scout all the possible entrances, coming through your windows. We’re here to guard you.”

  “But there’s no fire escape. Did you—”

  “Turn into bats?” interrupted Vladimir, smiling. “No, we don’t fly. But we are pretty adept at climbing sheer surfaces. We evolved in the mountains of our planet.”

  Milorad came into the room, still panting from climbing the building and hanging outside the window. “We were worried that we couldn’t reach you,” he puffed.

  “I wasn’t here,” said Jack. “I was out of phone range.”

  Vladimir frowned in puzzlement. “In this area? Was the signal blocked?”

  “I was on another planet.”

  Vladimir’s frown deepened. “You went through a wormhole? The Wardens allowed it?”

  “It was not one that the Wardens . . . in fact none of the Mythicals . . . know about. It was to my home planet.”

  “Home planet?” Vladimir paused for a moment, his pale brow wrinkling. Then he nodded in realization, smiling. “Ah . . . there are others! For decades, our Wardens have sighted wormholes that were not ours. The Wardens suspec
ted that other races were coming to Thera, but the others evaded any contact.”

  “They’re doing more than just coming to Thera,” said Jack. “They’re invading it.” He proceeded to tell the vampires all that he had learned from his parents, Christopher, and from his visit to the dying planet Earth.

  There was a long, uncharacteristic silence among the vampires, as they sat in the living room and tried to absorb the enormity of what Jack had told them.

  Vladimir broke the silence, declaring, “I need a drink.”

  Milorad quickly fetched glasses and every bottle of liquor in Jack’s cabinet. They proceeded to pour themselves generous helpings, providing a particularly large one for Jack. He thankfully began to drink it.

  “Your home planet’s name. How do you spell it?” asked Vladimir.

  Jack spelled “Earth,” and Vladimir rolled his eyes and chuckled. “What a terrible name for a planet. Earth.” He pronounced the name with a guttural grunt. “It’s like the sound somebody makes when they’re sick to their stomach.”

  Milorad took up the theme. “A sound like when somebody gets struck in the testicles.”

  Radomir chimed in. “Like the name for a really ugly person. ‘Boy, that person Earth really is homely.’”

  Gennady grinned, adding, “Like the surprised sound somebody makes when they’ve eaten something foul. Ewww, Earth!”

  Vladimir became serious. “We’ve been frankly undecided about saving the Therans. But we’re pretty unanimous about saving you. Sam seems to have taken a liking to you.”

  “I love her,” said Jack, unable to contain the sentence even when out of range of Sam’s pheromonal charms.

  “She knows.”

  “We need to stop drinking,” said Radomir, decisively clunking his glass on the coffee table. “We know the werewolves will come here, and there’s nothing more useless than a drunk vampire.”

  “Drunken elves are worse,” said Milorad defensively. But then he, too, put down his glass.

  “Well, in any case, we’re almost out of liquor,” said Gennady.

  “And we need food,” said Vladimir. “Go get some, Milorad. You look the least like a guard.”