by Gini Koch
“We all have them,” Chuckie added. “I honestly thought you knew that.”
“By ‘we all’ do you mean everyone on Earth, everyone working with Centaurion Division, or everyone in our extended family group? And yes, it’s news to me. I like to focus on the bigger picture and all that. And I pointedly don’t remember this implant being installed. Just sayin.’”
“Everyone working with Centaurion,” Chuckie answered.
“Unreal. Really glad I like to learn and all that.”
“It was in the briefing books,” Christopher added. In a tone that was far more accusatory than I personally thought the situation warranted.
“I read those! I mean, finally. But I did read them. I distinctly do not remember the Universal Translator chapter.”
“You probably skimmed it,” Jeff said. “And the implants were put in when you were unconscious, Kitty. At the same time as the tracking devices were installed.”
“And other things I don’t know about?” Refrained from mentioning that the tracking devices had been disabled by our enemies. Clearly, said enemies had left the universal translator functions alone. For which I’d thank them one day. Maybe.
“Probably,” Chuckie said. “But they’re all there for our protection and assistance.”
“Glad to know you’re one with the Centaurion Party Line.”
“Does it matter?” Jeff asked. “I mean, really, right now? We need to find our daughter and the rest of our people who were brought here.”
I wanted that, too, but I wanted answers more. And logic told me that the three of us knowing all that Jeff did immediately would be better than finding it out when we were surrounded by giant, walking and talking, carnivorous rodent people.
“Kitty’s right,” Christopher said. “We need to know all that you know right now, Jeff.”
“Excuse me?” Jeff looked confused. “She didn’t say that.”
“No, but I thought it. Okay, I’m just putting this out here right now—the Purple Land portion of this planet enables mind reading. Period. Maybe it’s all the weird smells, maybe it’s all the colors, it’s probably the water and plant life that everyone there eats in some way, which the three of us have, too. But Chuckie, Christopher, and I have been reading each other’s minds, and we’ve communed with the katyhoppers. Yet, if King Benny can do it, he didn’t let on.”
Jeff shook his head. “I’m having trouble reading emotions here, let alone minds. I only had an idea of where to head because I felt all three of you so filled with terror last night that I could get a general idea of where you were.”
“The snakipede, yeah, that makes sense. But this means, then, that at least part of Planet Colorful is also Planet Telepathic. Maybe each color section enhances or detracts from a psionic ability.”
“I’m with Kitty on this one,” Chuckie said. “Jeff, could you tell us what’s going on?”
“I’d like to know how they thought you were a Messenger of the Gods,” Christopher added.
“And how you become friends with King Benny. I definitely want to know that. And how you managed to lie in any way, shape, or form.”
Jeff heaved a sigh. “I landed on a boulder. It happened to be right when this clan was traveling past it. Needless to say, there was a lot of falling to the knees and bowing. I had to hear them talk for a bit, then I could understand them. I did try to tell them I wasn’t a God, but then it occurred to me that what Kitty and Chuck would do was try to play along and turn the situation to their advantage.”
“And you did?” Hoped I didn’t sound incredulous. I just wasn’t used to A-Cs in general and Jeff in particular managing being sneaky.
He grinned. “Glad I can still surprise you. Yes. I did what we were all able to do before you showed up and called us on it. I just didn’t give them full information.”
“So you said, I’m from far away,” Christopher said. “And they took that to mean the heavens.”
“Right. Anyway, it was better than them attacking me, and I knew I was going to need help to find everyone else.”
“Glad all the political crap has been good for something. I’m glad you didn’t try to talk them out of their beliefs, by the way.”
“Yeah,” Chuckie agreed. “When someone asks if you’re a god, the golden rule is that you say ‘yes.’ I’m kind of as shocked as Kitty that you didn’t protest more.”
“Ghostbusters was such a great movie.”
Jeff gave us both the “really?” look. “I wasn’t sure if it would work, and I figured that my mission was to find all my family and friends, not worry about not telling all the truth to a backward society.”
“Don’t sell them short,” Chuckie said. “With the little I’ve seen so far, they’re like the Ancient Greeks, and that means they have a civilization and society. Believing in Gods doesn’t make them stupid.” He was fond of his Ancient Greece theory. Then again, it was knowledge he had and he, like the rest of us, was out of his element. If being able to compare the races on this planet to Agamemnon and Odysseus made him feel better, bring on Athena and Achilles.
“Well, it still seems wrong to lie to someone who wasn’t trying to kill me. It was tense for a little while, but you’re right—they’re not stupid.” He shook his head. “I don’t understand why you all weren’t near me when I landed, though.”
“We discussed this amongst ourselves already,” Chuckie said. “We were traveling at faster than light speed and something clearly went wrong, because the trip wasn’t smooth. We’re guessing we were moving apart at some rate of speed that put your landing zone, Jeff—you were heading away from the three of us when we were grabbed, remember—at some distance away from ours. And I think we were put on the nearest solid object. For me and Kitty, that was the treetops. For you two, it was something a little more stable.”
“I was trying to get to Jamie when we were taken,” Jeff said quietly. “But I can’t feel her here.”
“That doesn’t mean she isn’t here,” Chuckie said quickly, as my stomach clenched. “You just said that you could barely feel us and only because all three of us were terrified. Based on where we ended up versus where you did, Jeff, Jamie and Paul could easily be on the other side of the world.”
“Or on another world,” Christopher added, unintentionally unhelpfully.
Chuckie shot him a look that said Christopher could stop speaking any time. “Or else she’s with Paul and neither one of them are scared about anything, meaning they’re fine and safe.”
Reminded myself that panicking wouldn’t save anyone, and that if I wanted to get to my daughter, I had to make sure that I and the others were okay and survived first. Four out of the twenty-two taken were okay. Less than one-fifth wasn’t a good enough number, meaning I needed to focus.
Took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I was doing that a lot on this planet. “I’m worried about Jamie, but she has ACE inside her, and I hope that means that, no matter what, she’s safe. ACE is allowed to protect himself, and they weren’t unconscious. I’m willing to take Chuckie’s idea that she’s still with Paul and they’re both somewhere safe as gospel for the moment. So, do we have anything else we need to discuss in private before we rejoin King Benny and his people?”
“Yeah, I’d like to know how you ended up flying with these bug-things.”
“Katyhoppers, Jeff, they’re called katyhoppers, at least by us, and it’s a long story.”
“But he needs to know it, and know it before we join the others,” Chuckie said.
We caught Jeff up on all of our excitement. “Seriously?” Jeff asked. “The katyhopper leaders say there are spaceships in the planet’s solar space?”
“Yes, and I’m sure they’re right. Think about it—there’s only one reason we would all have been dragged here without asking.”
“Yeah, what the three of you came up with makes the most s
ense. And I can easily believe that there’s fighting going on. It’s hard to keep countries working together—it’s got to be exponentially harder with planets.” Jeff examined the katyhoppers. “They seem . . . smarter than the Lecanora.”
Turkey waved her antennae.
“Turkey says they are in some ways and not in others. They have no contact with anyone in this Bronze Land, so it’s hard for them to be sure. But they can read the Lecanoras’ minds, as well as the other animals’—at least as and how they read them, which isn’t word for word, but more images and feelings—and they seem smart enough. She feels the Lecanora are close to katyhopper sentience levels, with their animals more along the Louie the Lizard level—sentient but not as smart as the ones they’re domesticated under.”
“Are we sure the Lecanora can’t read minds?” Christopher asked. “I’d really like to be sure about that before we all align with them. The katyhoppers more than proved they were our friends. Not so sure the Lecanora have done the same yet.”
Jeff sighed. “I think them believing we’re Gods and not eating us is the best we’re going to get right now. Seriously, if they had mind-reading ability, why would they think I was anything other than an alien on their planet?”
Chuckie nodded. “Good point. And I think it’s time we joined them. Making our new hosts impatient could be bad for us, considered to be Gods or not.”
“Yeah, and you’re right—you all have to be introduced to the rest of the clan.”
“And the rest of the clan needs to buy in that we’re Gods or God Messengers, too,” Christopher pointed out.
“What Christopher said.” This earned me a nice smile instead of a Patented Glare. Planet Colorful might be good for him. “And, by the way, are they going to sniff us or just say hello?”
Jeff laughed. “Both.”
“Oh good. Things were getting far too normal.”
CHAPTER 25
WE WALKED TO THE CARAVAN, with Bruno, Ginger, and the katyhoppers coming along.
Jeff kept his arm around my shoulders and I kept mine around his waist, allowing myself to enjoy the relief of knowing he was okay and the joy of being back with him.
The wagons were a lot like the ones Earthlings had used for millennia—wooden, flat on the bottom, four wheels, some open, some enclosed. The woods and colors maintained the color scheme for this section of the world. As with the katyhoppers, the Lecanora used leaves and mud to create natural grout.
King Benny met us at the lead wagon. “The others feel that because my ocellar—Ginger, as you call her—has accepted you, and because of those you travel with,” he indicated the katyhoppers, “that you are clearly not as we have been told. You need to share your Godhood with the others, or there may be . . . problems.”
“Did anyone stop to figure that, you know, Ginger’s got a good guess going that I’m not going to put her into a catapult and shoot her up into the air and maybe that’s why she likes me?”
King Benny shrugged. “We would have caught her. Safely. It’s something we do frequently.” He looked at the katyhoppers. “When we have to.”
“Um, the katyhoppers saved us, more than once, and while we returned the favor, they housed us and so forth, so they’re our pals. As in, they took in three Gods and didn’t question it and so forth. So they are totally off limits in terms of being attacked or eaten or whatever.”
“I was not insinuating that the . . . katyhoppers, as you call them, were our enemy. However, we all share a common enemy, which is why our ocellars are used to being catapulted into the air.”
The light dawned. “Wow and crap. You have snakipedes in this section of the world, too?”
“Excuse me? I’m not sure I understand you, Shealla.”
“So few ever do, King Benny. So few ever do. The giant flying snakes. You have them over here, just like the katyhoppers do?”
“Ah!” He nodded. “We call them the Horrors. And they are venomous as well as hugely dangerous even without their venom. They are not sentient as we are, or even as our bosthoon are. They are animals in the truest sense of the word, their appetites are large, and their methods skillful and deadly.”
“Bosthoon?”
“The animals pulling their wagons,” Jeff said quickly.
“Ah, the bronto-horses, gotcha.” Was so glad I hadn’t known that the snakipedes were venomous last night. I might not have had the guts to kill the one that attacked us. Of course, I knew now. But I also knew that, as long as I had bullets, the snakipedes could die. Probably didn’t have nearly enough bullets for all the snakipedes on the planet.
Chose not to say any of this aloud. Hopefully our guess was right and the Lecanora had no mind-reading abilities. Made a mental note not to give them waterfruit unless we wanted to experiment with the ability or needed to know they could read us.
King Benny cocked his head and stared at me. The tree antlers managed to stay on, but they looked funny and made him cute rather than imposing. Still controlled the Inner Hyena. Gods laughing at your leader tended to be bad for the leader and many times worse for the Gods. “You wish us to call them bronto-horses, Shealla? You are the Giver of Names.”
Interesting. So far, our God Names were really lining up with what we did in real life. Wondered what he was going to assign to Christopher. “Ah, no, King Benny. Bosthoon is a good name.”
He relaxed and seemed pleased. “Well and good. May I introduce you as you truly are, Leoalla?” he asked Jeff.
Who looked to Chuckie. Who nodded. “It’s wise, as you say, King Benny.”
King Benny turned and we followed. He still had his short sword held in his tail. The thought occurred that maybe we weren’t who he was worried about.
Went on with my examination as we headed toward a group of the Lecanora. Long wooden bars extended from the wagons to attach to harnesses on the bronto-horses. Bosthoon was indeed as good a name, and since that’s what the Lecanora called them and I’d graciously told King Benny it was good, I’d break down and do the same.
The bosthoon had little heads and long, thick necks and tails, hence the brontosaurus comparison. Their middles, however, were all horse, all the way, and their thick legs ended in wide, flat hooves. Their coloration was similar to that of horses—all over the place—but they stuck with the color scheme, just as everything in Purple Land had.
The leather looked to be bosthoon, which made sense. Humans used cow and horse leather because in the old days, we’d used every part of our domesticated animals that we could.
Catapults were on uncovered wagons, of course, and this group had five of them. There were twenty-five wagons, not counting those with catapults, so one catapult for every five wagons seemed to be their setup.
Bronze Land continued to smell of burnt wood and sunsets, but there was a definite whiff of animal that hadn’t existed in the Purple Land. The smells weren’t unpleasant, but it was clear that mammals were more common in this color section. Especially since we were with a big group of them.
Sure enough, there was a hodgepodge of the extended weasel family here. In fact, it was a little too hodgepodge. Took a longer, closer look at the caravan. The wagons weren’t of uniform design. Some had more ornamentation than others, some were clearly made from different woods, dirt, and leaves than others, some wagons had one bosthoon, some two, some four, and so on.
The Lecanora were also different, and not just in their coloration or size relative to each other. Some seemed more prosperous than others, some far less so.
King Benny led us to a clutch of Lecanora, all of whom looked worried or suspicious or both. They seemed to represent the full variety of the mustelidae family.
“You have all met him as the Messenger of the Gods,” King Benny said without preamble. “But the truth has been revealed to me. We are blessed—the Gods themselves have tested us and found us worthy.”
Some of
the others looked impressed, some didn’t. All of them were sniffing. Surreptitiously, at least somewhat, but definitely sniffing. Had no idea what we smelled like to them, but had a feeling we’d find out soon enough.
Before King Benny could say anything else, though, one of the pig-dogs ran over and started bark-honking at me. The pig-dogs were about the size of an extra-large German Shepherd but with snouts that were more squat and broad than elongated, long claws on their paws, tusks that stuck out just like a boar’s, bristles instead of whiskers, and curlicue tails. This one was also kind of goofy looking—I mean, more goofy looking than the pig-dogs already were—and its whooping at me was kind of hilarious and cute, and I didn’t pick up any danger. Not that this necessarily meant anything.
“What’s your pig-dog’s name?”
This earned me some shocked looks from those who’d looked impressed and more suspicious looks from those who already seemed distrustful. Chose not to look at my guys in case they were glaring at me or trying to tell me to shut up.
“It’s a chocho,” King Benny said.
“Gotcha.”
“Why would one of our Gods not know this?” a Lecanora who looked like a walking weasel asked, while he sniffed at us. Not in the dissing you sort of way, but in the “smelling you from a distance” way.
“Because we Gods have different names for things than you do. Obviously, I might add.”
“You would question Shealla, who gives the names?” King Benny asked of weasel-dude.
“Ah, no.” He looked somewhat uncomfortable.
“It’s forgiven. What’s the chocho’s name?”
“He has no name,” King Benny said. “He’s not quite . . . right. But he’s part of the chocho’s pack, and we’ve all agreed that we will give refuge to any who need it, regardless of their fur.”
“Well, that’s great to hear. We, ah, approve. In a God-like way.” I put my fist out to the chocho. “C’mere, boy. Give us a sniff.”