by Gini Koch
“Excuse me, ‘they,’ ‘them’? As in, there are more of them?”
Sure enough, as I asked a bright pink one flew over to me while a bright turquoise one went to Chuckie. If Jamie saw the pink one she’d want it for her very own, it was that pink. Clearly we’d landed on Planet Colorful.
Shoved the worry thinking about Jamie raised to the side—Chuckie and I had to get down and be safe. Then he, Christopher, and I could find Jamie, Jeff, and the others.
“How are you controlling them?” Chuckie asked, for both of us.
“I have no idea,” Christopher admitted. “But Toby’s here.” Toby was Christopher’s Poof, and I could see it now, riding on the katyhopper’s head.
“Poofs to the rescue?” I asked Harlie and Poofikins. I got proud mewls of confirmation, as Poofikins hopped onto the pink one’s head. “Okay, the katyhoppers are cool, Chuckie. Poofs at the helm. And all that.”
“Katyhoppers?” Christopher asked. “You know what these are?”
“No,” Chuckie answered for me. “But they look like a giant cross between katydids and grasshoppers, and this is Kitty we’re talking to.”
“Oh, good point. Well, it’s as good a name as any until we find out what they’re really called.”
“Thanks so much, I’m so glad you two approve.”
“Who’s testy now?” Chuckie asked, this time just for him. Chose not to reply lest I say something nasty to my oldest friend when we were stranded ACE only knew how many light-years from home.
I could just see him getting onto his giant, blue flying bug, while his Poof, Fluffy, jumped out of his pocket and onto the back of the bug’s head. Had to stop thinking of them as bugs—I didn’t wig out at bugs, but pony-sized bugs weren’t what I was used to. Katyhopper was a good name. It sounded fun and cute. Giant flying bug didn’t sound fun or cute. Or safe, but that was beside the point—it wasn’t safe to be hanging up here in the first place.
Waited to speak until Chuckie was on his katyhopper. “You both look awesome on the backs of your proud steeds.”
“I’ll hurt you later,” Chuckie said. “Do you need help to get onto yours, or are you just enjoying hanging around like that?”
“Frankly, I think I need help.” I wasn’t a great tree climber, seeing as I was from the desert, and our kinds of trees were mostly cacti or trees that weren’t made for climbing, like Palo Verdes. And my branch was big enough to hold me but not really set up for me to try to use it like a jungle gym. My best options were to flip my lower body forward or my upper body backward. Neither one sounded like a safe plan.
The guys flew over to me somehow and, with a lot of grunting, kvetching, and an almost strangulation when Christopher didn’t flip my purse at the same time as Chuckie was pulling me onto my pink katyhopper, I managed to get my butt into the saddle. So to speak.
I’d ridden horses before and they absolutely didn’t bob up and down as much as the katyhoppers did. On the other hand, the katyhoppers didn’t appear to be into the idea of bucking and throwing us, so that evened them out on the horse to giant flying bug comparison scale. And the humming of their wings was soft and soothing, versus annoying, so that was one for the win column right there.
“Will they be offended if we go onto the ground?” Chuckie asked. “Or hop off with us in tow? Or worse?”
“Beats me,” Christopher said.
“Poofikins, is it safe to go down?” The Poof mewled at me and shot me an overly innocent look. I knew what that meant and heaved a sigh. “Gimme a mo’, guys.”
“Why?” Christopher snapped. “You like it up here?”
“It’s okay up here. Beats going splat onto the ground, I can say that for certain. But that’s not why I need a second. Now that Chuckie and I are out of danger of plummeting to our deaths the Poofs want, ah, me to get back in, ah, charge.”
Both men snorted. “When aren’t you in charge?” Chuckie asked with a laugh.
“When I’m hanging half upside down in a tree, apparently. Hang on, I need to commune with nature, and I mean that very literally.”
By now I’d done the Dr. Doolittle Mind Meld with Poofs, Peregrines, cats, dogs, and parrots, if I could count Bellie the African Grey. Bellie had belonged to one of our insane enemies, then became Jeff’s Avian Mistress for what seemed like ages but was only a few months, and mercifully had finally gone on to live with Mr. Joel Oliver to rarely darken my door again. I knew Bellie’s motives and she’d been helpful, on occasion, so I chose to count that I could chat with parrots. Let’s be optimistic and say I was able to communicate with the entire Avian Kingdom.
However, wings or not, the katyhoppers weren’t birds, nor were they horses. They were insects. Huge insects, but insects nonetheless. And I’d never had the inclination or need to talk to insects prior to this precise time.
I concentrated. Nothing. No change in any of our relative positions, and no feedback from the katyhopper, either.
Thought about it. I’d never really tried to talk to the animals, it had just happened. “Ah, Kitty would like to go down to the ground, if it’s safe to do so.”
Nada.
This was not the best time to be less than stellar at the Talking to the Animals Game. Time to stall.
“Christopher, do you have any guess as to what planet we’re on?” I knew it wasn’t Alpha Four. When we’d been there, briefly, right before Jeff and I had gotten married, and right after the Poofs had eaten Alpha Four’s then-king, we’d been shown what that world looked like. Sure, it had been via some weird troubadour-imageer thing King Alexander’s mother, Princess Victoria, had done, but in all of her Intergalactic Family Photos Experience there had been nothing that had the level of color that we were surrounded by.
“No idea. I was born on Earth, remember?”
“Paul knows about this solar system.”
“So do I. But I doubt Paul has any idea what planet we’re on any more than I do.”
“Actually,” Chuckie said, “if I can make a guess based on where the suns are in relation to each other, I think we’re on Beta Eight. I could be wrong, of course.”
“I doubt it.” Chuckie had spent time learning where the Alpha Centauri planets were in relation to each other and their suns, and had probably asked the Planetary Council members a lot of questions that he’d then memorized and filed away for later use. Like today. The benefits of being best friends with the smartest guy in any room, or on the back of any giant flying bug, were without number.
Tried to remember what I’d heard about Beta Eight. Came up with nothing.
“If you’re right,” Christopher said, “the natives here aren’t very advanced.”
“Earth Bronze Age, per the Planetary Council,” Chuckie confirmed. “So define ‘advanced.’ I doubt they have computers and such, but if they’re similar to the Ancient Greeks, they likely have a strong civilization, or civilizations, going.”
“I see no natives, other than the katyhoppers.” Wondered if they were the dominant sentient life on this planet. After all, while many of the inhabited planets here had native beings that were more like humans than not, Betas Thirteen, Fourteen, and Fifteen had Giant Lizards, Major Doggies, and Cat People, respectively. Or, as they preferred to be called, Reptilians, Canus Majorians, and Feliniads.
“Think we could be riding the top sentient life-form on this planet?” Christopher asked.
“Wow. Dude, you’re getting as good at the mind reading as Jeff. No idea.”
“I don’t think so,” Chuckie said slowly. “They’re too . . . docile.”
“That’s the Poofs’ influence, I think,” Christopher said.
“Yes, and the Poofs can’t influence us in that way,” Chuckie pointed out. “Ergo . . .”
“Yeah, okay, I can buy that. There’s got to be minds, because the Poofs could affect them. But I’m getting nothing.”
&n
bsp; “I think you’re trying too hard,” Chuckie said. “Not that you appear to be doing anything, by the way, but from the scrunched up look on your face, you’re concentrating. Probably too hard. You could hurt yourself.”
“Or the wind could change and my face could stay like this, right? Wow, remind me to hurt you later. But fine, yeah, I’m trying to be mentally telepathic, and it’s not working.” Had a thought—something else with wings had come along for the bumpy ride. “Bruno, my bird, could you do reconnaissance and let Kitty know if it’s safe for us to try to get down onto the ground? If for no other reason than that the katyhoppers’ wings have got to be getting tired.”
Before Bruno could so much as squawk or the guys could ask what the Peregrine was doing here, my katyhopper did a slow dive toward the ground. Checked behind me—the katyhoppers with the guys on them were following.
“What did you do?” Christopher shouted.
“No clue. At all.”
“She was kind and concerned about the animals,” Chuckie called.
“Insects,” Christopher said. “At least, I think.”
“Whatever they actually are, apparently they appreciate thoughtfulness. Think nice thoughts about the katyhoppers, White. I’m sure you’re capable of it if you try.”
“I’m with Kitty—I’m going to hurt you later.”
Despite the witty banter we landed with little hops and no difficulty. For the first time the katyhoppers’ wings were still. Sure enough—iridescent and fairly transparent, the internal veins and such visible and quite pretty, all things considered. The veins, like the rest of them, were the same bright colors. Had no idea if the colors meant male, female, both, neither, or if they were just three examples of the Katyhopper Rainbow.
What hadn’t been apparent in the air was that they had three sets of wings, similar to their three sets of legs. So each katyhopper had a small, medium, and large set. But when they were flying they just looked like one big set of wings.
“The wings are fascinating,” Chuckie said.
“Dude, you’re doing the mind-reading thing, too. I wonder if it’s the planet’s atmosphere.”
“Seems normal.” Chuckie looked around. “I mean, for here.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Refrained from saying that we were in a freak world because, frankly, this was no freakier than the facts that aliens lived on Earth or that we’d somehow taken a magic carpet ride to another solar system.
Contemplated whether or not we should get off. The katyhoppers seemed amenable to passengers and it would be a lot easier if we had transportation. Then again, they’d already done a lot for us, and it probably wasn’t right to just assume they wanted to continue to do so.
I was about to dismount when my katyhopper made a sound. I was in no way an Insect Noises Expert, let alone a katyhopper noises expert, but my gut said that the sound wasn’t a good one. It was a low kind of screech, as if a metal door that hadn’t been oiled in ages was being opened.
Either the katyhopper was calling for reinforcements or it was saying we were in danger. Based on all three of our katyhoppers leaping up into the air, wings going faster than they had before, I went with how our luck rolled and figured on the obvious—we were in danger. Again.
Or, as we called it, routine.
CHAPTER 13
THE KATYHOPPERS DIDN’T really take to the air. They flew us back up into one of the purple trees, then alighted on strong lower branches. Meaning if they panicked and bucked us off, we might not all break something when we hit the ground. So we had that going for us.
Only there was nothing there. At least nothing I could see.
We were next to each other in the tree. “See anything?” I whispered to the guys.
“No,” Chuckie said in a low voice. “But the katyhoppers didn’t panic for nothing.”
“I have the best vision of the three of us, and I don’t see anything we should be afraid of,” Christopher said softly. “You know, other than being stranded on an alien planet in what we hope is the Alpha Centauri system.”
“Maybe whatever’s scaring the katyhoppers is invisible.” The guys gave me looks I could only think of as withering. “Really? Look around and think back to Operation Defection Election and tell me invisible beings aren’t possible. Go ahead. I’ll wait.”
During the political campaign to get Senator Vincent Armstrong renamed President of the United States, which included Jeff as the Vice Presidential running mate, we’d been visited by some superconciousnesses. They’d been super-powerful and mostly insubstantial. And Siler was able to blend in with his surroundings so as to appear invisible. So I no longer discounted the possibility that we had invisible people out there somewhere. Possibly somewhere here.
But no invisible beings identified themselves. Time for Plan B. “Bruno my bird, is it safe for you to fly off and do reconnaissance?”
Bruno squawked. As far as he could tell, it was safe. He took off. And, to my complete shock, the katyhoppers followed him.
“Was this what you intended?” Christopher shouted to me, as we flew next to each other, the guys on either side of me.
“If it’s safe, yes indeedy! If it’s not, no way in hell.”
“Covering the bases like a good politician,” Chuckie said. “Well done.”
“Dude, I have no freaking clue right now. Call me Miz Out Of Her Element.”
Bruno flew up and around the trees and the katyhoppers followed. So we got a good aerial view of where we were.
Purple was definitely the dominant theme in this area, but I could see off in the distance and there were other colors being represented—they were just far away. However, Bruno wasn’t heading for them, he was touring us around Purple Land.
We were away from the purple trees quickly. We weren’t flying all that high, so I could see the ground under us pretty well. In addition to the copse of big trees Chuckie and I had landed in, there were some Purple Mountains Majesties scattered about in various directions, all, like the other colors, far away.
Mostly, though, the land was covered with purple plants that looked a lot like lavender, at least from our vantage point. I sniffed. Nope, didn’t smell like lavender. Smelled good, just not familiar. As with the trees, they smelled purple, but a different kind of purple. Wondered if we were in some kind of opium field or something.
“Think the scents and local foliage could be affecting our minds?” Chuckie called to Christopher.
“Dude, I was just thinking that. This place smells like purple, but different kinds of purple.”
“I’d say that was a Kitty-ism,” Christopher replied, “but it smells like that to me, too. The trees smelled different than whatever we’re over, but they both smell like purple. Not that I even understand how I’m thinking that.”
“I’m thinking it, too,” Chuckie said, “and that’s why I asked. By the way, have you also noticed it’s not that hard to hear each other?”
Looked down at my katyhopper’s antennae. They seemed to be radiating out a little more toward the sides than they had before. Checked out the antennae on the katyhoppers the guys were on. Their antennae were turned more toward me.
“Wow. The katyhoppers are awesome. They’re using their antennae to transmit what we’re saying to each other.”
Chuckie looked at each of the katyhoppers. “I think you’re right. Interesting.”
“Animal husbandry, or whatever this is, another time,” Christopher said. “Something spooked the katyhoppers and we need to be prepared.”
“Wow, Christopher, that was worthy of being a Kitty-ism!”
“I’m so proud,” he muttered. Not that he sounded proud, but whatever.
In addition to the mountains and ground cover, there were other trees in the distance, scattered all around at various intervals. Some were just single big trees, some were clumped together. None we
re worthy of being called a forest, nor did they form a barrier or a border. They were simply randomly there.
The plants were less random. They looked too even to have sprouted up accidentally. But unlike lavender fields on Earth, there weren’t paths between the rows. The rows were very close together. Meaning there could be things under those plants we couldn’t see. Snake things, for example.
“Think there could be snakes under the foliage?” Christopher asked, right on cue.
“The mind reading is getting freaky. But I want to be on record that if there are snakes down there, I’m going to lose it, especially if they’re extra-large as far as Earth slitheries are concerned.”
Chuckie looked thoughtful. “White, how did you get one of the katyhoppers to help you?”
“No idea. I landed on the ground, in the middle of some of those purple plants. The katyhopper I’m riding flew over to me. I almost ran, but it landed and sort of, I don’t know, indicated I should get on its back. I did, and then I heard you two talking. It was faint, but I’d landed near enough to the trees that I had a good guess that’s where you two were. I wanted to get to you guys, and then the katyhopper flew up, with the two you’re riding joining us.”
“So they read your mind. I mean, that’s the only explanation for why the katyhoppers knew or cared to come up to us, because we were in the trees as long as you were on the ground.”
“Maybe,” Chuckie said slowly. “I mean, I agree that they’re picking up our thoughts somehow, since we’re picking up each other’s thoughts somehow and the katyhoppers are clearly sentient.”
Took a look at Chuckie’s expression. I could see the wheels turning. “But? I mean, there’s so obviously a ‘but’ in there.”
He sighed. “White, how close to the trees were you where you landed?”
“Pretty close. Not right under them, but close enough.”
“Then I don’t buy that the katyhoppers didn’t know that Kitty and I were in the trees. I think they did, but you were in greater danger, so they went to help you first. If you’d attacked or run away, maybe they’d have let you. But you wisely held your ground and didn’t try to hurt them, so they’re helping. Good for you, by the way. I honestly wouldn’t have expected it of you, and I don’t really mean that in an insulting way.”