AKLESH (Under Strange Skies)

by Samuel Jarius Pettit

  In a panic the prince wrestled with the harness, desperately trying to release the mechanism.

  His

  gloved

  fingers

  fumbled

  awkwardly, but finally he got free. He shimmied his body from the straps as the chair continued to sink below him, but at least he was free. Gar forced his helmet off. Frantically he flailed his arms and kicked his legs but got nowhere. The ice-cold chill of the water was seeping into his skin, and his head began to pound. Without meaning to, he opened his mouth and water forced itself into his lungs.

  Gar struggled in vain but soon lost the ability to fight. A strange feeling of serenity came over him. It was all over. He could do nothing more to save himself.

  At that moment the whole situation struck Gar as hysterical. The circumstance was ridiculous! He was a galactic prince who had spent all of his time roaming space. Now he was dying alone on some unimportant planet, deep under water and no one knew.

  Drowning.

  He looked below into the blackness where he’d soon descend and saw the blinking lights of his ship, very small now, like a broken toy. The lights flickered as their power drained and finally went out. The metal shapes faded into the silent nothingness of the abyss.

  Gar lifted his face up to where the water was more grayish and where he was sure the surface was, the one he would never get to. In his last moments he reached his hand towards the ghostly light. As his eyes began to cloud, he saw a vision.

  It was of a being surrounded by a halo of light that shown from the surface. Gracefully it stretched out a hand to his, arriving to take him into the next realm. The prince thought of ancient stories of winged people from beyond that carried the dead to their final resting place.

  He smiled peacefully. It was so beautiful.

  And then everything faded to white.

  Chapter 2

  Drifting.

  This was the first sensation that Gar was aware of.

  A calm drifting, like a feather on a soft breeze. He found himself naked and slowly descending through a pale fog. There was nothing around him beyond his own hands and feet and a comfortable warmth to the air. His chest felt a lightness, as if all burden was lifted.

  It was such an easy dream.

  Inside his mind there was nothing of what had happened or the chaos he had come from. Was he dead? Was this the afterlife? The answers to these questions no longer mattered. The gentle gliding was all that existed, and in it there was absolute peace.

  The next sensation that came upon him was of soft grass beneath his feet. It came as no surprise to Gar that he might feel this. After what could have been a moment or a lifetime, he looked down at where he now found himself standing. The grass itself was pale and long with some of the blades weaving between his toes.

  Gar looked up and realized he was standing on a large plain. The field stretched as far as he could see, and above was a cloudless blue sky. There was no sound beyond the soft rustling of the grass all around him. The sight was both familiar and foreign at the same time.

  Footsteps in the grass.

  The sound started softly behind him. He couldn’t tell if it was an animal or humanoid. Soon more steps in the grass joined it, as if in the distance.

  Gar looked around but saw no one. He turned in a circle several times, searching the horizon for whatever was rushing towards him. On the last turn a large outcropping of rocks about 150 feet high appeared before him in the distance. He stood staring in wonder at the stone hill that hadn’t been there before.

  The sound of steps became running, and it was getting closer and closer. The amount of footfalls had increased and meant there were a huge number of people coming like a stampede. Still he could see no one but the noise grew ever louder. Soon whoever they were would be right on top of him.

  Just before the sound reached a deafening percussive height, it ended abruptly.

  It was then he felt a stinging pain in the center of his forehead. He began to touch the spot when a single body suddenly rushed past him. It stopped a few feet ahead of where he stood and turned, regarding him slowly.

  It was a member of the Orestian royal guard in full ceremonial uniform, but the individual was not a person he had encountered before. His skin was grey and his eyes were strange.

  They stared at each other for an immeasurable amount of time. The only thought that came into Gar’s mind was that this person, dressed as he was, was out of place on the grassy plain. He did not belong.

  Soon the sound of people running began again. Gar turned.

  Stretched as far as he could see was the whole royal court. He could make out his sister and parents, the high ministers and parliamentary leaders. Among them as well were lords and ladies of the court and several of the royal guard.

  Each person was dressed in finery only reserved for coronations or funerals. They were all running as fast as they could. At first he thought that they were being pursued, chased by some unseen assailant. Then it became clear.

  They were hunting.

  Gar turned back to the guard who he had seen first.

  With a simple gesture the strange soldier beckoned for him to follow. At that moment the young prince realized he was also dressed in a ceremonial uniform. This scenario was again strange and yet not totally unexpected.

  As was his desire to join the hunt, and he too began to run.

  Once they all reached the rocks the people started to climb without hesitation. Every person took hand to stone and began to ascend. The bulky clothing posed no obstacle as they worked their way to the top of the hill over rocks and dried branches. The prince was in the lead of the company, following his overwhelming urge to get to the top.

  He reached it first.

  There was a cave in the rock and whatever was in there gave a snort.

  In the darkness the unmistakable sound of metal scraping ground could be heard. In the shadows a shape began to take form as one of it huge legs edged forward into the light. The haunch was red and shiny with gold detailing. It was well muscled and had huge claws. As the large foot pulled out of the shadows Gar realized he was staring at one of the thrusters of his shuttle. It was and yet it wasn’t.

  For the first time the prince began to realize that something was terribly wrong. None of this was possible. The monster crept out of the opening, slipping from the shadows of the rocky overhang to reveal its gigantic form. Gar stared in confusion at the creature that was a wondrous paradox.

  It was his shuttle. Yet, warped and perverted into monstrous life.

  His ship was transformed and had somehow morphed into an impossible animal. It stood on the two large thrusters like huge front haunches 15 feet high.

  Suddenly it reared up on one thruster, threw up the other high in the air and roared menacingly.

  This made the crowd surge and take up a whooping battle cry. The lords and ladies rushed toward the creature with a feverish desire to destroy the vicious beast, attacking it without mercy.

  Gar stayed in place. The impossibility of everything he was witnessing sank into his being.

  The massacre of the creature seemed to go mute as his mind worked hard to wrap itself around what he witnessed. It was a horrible, twisted dream of things he understood and other things that were completely foreign to everything he knew.

  Something wet began to drip from the center of his forehead.

  When he touched his finger to the spot, there was a sting of pain. Gar winced and pulled his hand back. On his finger was the unmistakable redness of blood, his blood. He was bleeding from his forehead and he had no idea why.

  The strange hunt was becoming more muffled and seemed farther and farther away. Gar stared idiotically at the blood on his hand, slowing realizing he was lost in the disorientation of a strange dream.

  An awareness of being incredibly sore became painfully real all over his body. He could feel cold air on his limbs and firm stone behind his back. There was a faint flickering of light in front of
him as he began to open his eyes. The sound of water lapping against a shore, the crackling of wood being burnt and muffled voices seeped into his ears.

  He was not dead.

  As clear as a bell, a voice whispered from inside his mind. Be still.

  Then he heard the same voice again, this time from a few meters away. It said… …“Quiet.

  He’s waking up.”

  CHAPTER 3

  His name was Tyro, and even though his frame was strong and his manner confident, he was worried for the hunting group, especially his childhood friend, Kai.The leader of the small fishing party stood only a few feet from the fire.

  He was having trouble with the whole situation.

  “We don’t know anything about this stranger other than he’s from the Sky Tribes,” Tyro said.

  “He could be an Other.”

  The argument had been going around in circles for the last hour as some of the fresh squid they caught earlier that day cooked on a spit over the flames.

  The sun had just set and they had decided to camp on the beach for the night. There were five of them in their small group, not including the dark haired stranger they had fished out of the great lake. He lay unconscious against a large rock a few meters away.

  “Well,” said Cho, “He’s not like any of the Others we’ve ever heard of. I don’t think he’s dangerous. Of course, those are mostly old stories.” She sat cross-legged on an animal hide mat near her twin brothers, Che and Chi. Her siblings usually did not say anything unless they had to.

  “There’s no way of knowing till he wakes,” Tyro replied. “It might have been better if we’d just let him drown.” He was in charge, but most of the time it didn’t feel like it.

  There was a reason the tribe didn’t have a lot of faith in his team. Excluding himself, it was made up of people that everyone considered different from the rest of the tribe. Try as he might to be a good example, his friends were determined not to conform. Yet, in good conscience, he couldn’t abandon them.

  “He’s no danger,” said Kai, hugging his knees and contemplating the fire. He had been sitting on a mat farthest away from the group and had not spoken for a long time. This was the first thing he had said since the chaos earlier.

  Tyro glared at him. His thoughts were a mixture and anger, frustration and genuine worry.

  Nobody was ready to discuss why Kai knew the stranger wasn’t dangerous, something they were still endeavoring to wrap their brains around. It was difficult for the powerful Aklesh warrior to even acknowledge as having happened.

  Arguing over the little things had been their way of ignoring the enormity of the real issue that faced them. The leader felt that moment was a good enough time to address it. He was about to speak when Kai broke his fascination with the blaze. He looked directly at the group.

  “Quiet. The stranger’s waking up.”

  The certainty in Kai’s knowledge of this sent a shiver down the hunting group’s collective spines.

  It was so unnatural. Tyro caught Cho’s eyes, and her expression mirrored his concern. Although she had been Kai’s defender in the situation so far, it was obvious she was carrying heavy doubts of her own.

  Kai got up from his mat. Cautiously he approached the stranger who was softly groaning and beginning to stir. Sensing the injured man’s pain and confusion, Kai instinctively wanted to alleviate it.

  The apprentice healer couldn’t help the urge, and the feeling scared him. He knew very little about the young man who lay before them.

  Kai had heard about Sky Tribesman when he was younger but had never imagined he’d see one.

  Though they resembled his people, there were many differences.

  The stranger’s hair was very dark and short.

  His frame was lean and he had a dusting of hair upon his chest and on his forearms. Such a thing was odd among the Aklesh. There were no color markings on his flesh, at least far as they could see.

  None of them had been very meticulous in their examination of him, only removing his burgundy jacket and shirt when they laid him down.

  Strangest of all, his skin was a funny sort of cream color and entirely uniform.

  The Sky Tribesman groaned again, louder this time, and squinted hard. He touched his forehead where there was a little clotted scar from a small but deep wound.

  Kai addressed his friends. “He’s confused.

  Disoriented.” He then turned back to the stranger and sent the same words to him that he had sent moments before. Be still.

  Chi, Che, Cho and Tyro all gathered closer but would still not come further than a few feet. Kai was the only one willing to be at the stranger’s side. Tyro was the first among them to speak.

  “Who is he? Find out who he is and what he’s doing here?”

  The young Aklesh turned to his friend with an expression that said to slow down. An interrogation would have to wait. Kai returned his attention to the patient who was starting to open his eyes. He sent him more thoughts.

  Relax. You’re safe. We’ll take care of you.

  All of this was so strange to Gar. He slowly dragged himself into consciousness. Judging from the dull ache, he assumed that his head had a really good slam during the accident. He was experiencing thoughts and feelings that were foreign to him.

  “There’s a voice inside my head,” he muttered. After a moment of letting the swirling waves of his vision clear he gazed upon his rescuers for the first time.

  Savages!

  The primitive people’s skin was light grey, for the most part. What appeared to be a light blue patterning lay across their shoulders, the lateral edges of their chests, up the sides of their necks and along the sides of their faces. There also appeared to be some of this color on their forearms as well. The firelight was too dim to tell if this was tattooing or the nature of their pigment.

  On the center of their foreheads was a sort of strange protuberance. It was a small bump of flesh less than half an inch around, the same color as their markings, something like the spiritual marks of certain religious groups on the planet Orestus.

  None of the men wore shirts although the girl had a strap of leather across her breasts. Their only clothing consisted of loin cloths that wrapped around their waists and leggings made of the same tan material.

  The one closest to him was lean and muscular. He was shorter than his companions and about Gar’s own age, he presumed. An overwhelming feeling of concern emanated from him.

  Like his companions, his eyes were a cloudy grey and his hair white. It had been shaved off on both sides and was a matted mess on top, which was apparently the way the primitive men wore it.

  The female’s pale hair was pulled back and braided into two rings.

  The two men standing behind her bore such a close resemblance they were almost mirror images of each other, obviously identical twins. The final member of the group, the one standing farthest away, was by far the tallest and most intimidating.

  His expression was very dour. There was no mistaking his displeasure. Although his form was formidable, his face was youthful. He couldn’t have been much older than the shorter one nearest to him.

  The short one by Gar’s side, somehow sensing that they were being scrutinized, gently made introductions.

  “We are Aklesh of the Western Forest Tribe.” He paused, then looked Gar in the face and stated very plainly. “We are not savages.” The prince regarded him curiously. It was an odd statement considering what he had just been thinking.

  The large one in back spoke abruptly. “How is it you know our language?”

  Gar tried to get up, but his vision swam again and he broke an immediate sweat. The one close to him helped him lean back. “Nanites.

  Injected at birth. Interprets and translates to the brain directly. Learn one language you learn them all if it’s a culture in the Galactic Linguistic Database.” Gar turned his head towards the group.

  They stared at him without reply. Of course these simple people wouldn’
t understand such advanced technology. He forced a smile and said in a voice laced with sarcasm. “Magic.”

  The tall one scoffed.

  “Hey, just where exactly am I?” Gar asked.

  “Do you have names?” He addressed this to the tall warrior in back, who seemed to be in charge.

  He responded.

  “I am Tyro’shal.”

  He pronounced the space in the middle with a short glottal click. Then he introduced the remaining members, indicating the girl first and the twins who were obviously her brothers. “Here is Cho, Chi and Che’fhal. The one next to you is called…”

  “Kai,” Gar said, surprising himself and those around him. There was an awkward silence as the tribesmen all regarded each other nervously.

  Their behavior was very suspicious.

  “I’m right, aren’t I?”

  Again, none of them would respond. The prince grew agitated.

  “Why do I know what his name is? Why am I hearing his voice in my head?! What the hell is going on?!!”

  He tried to lean up on his arm. Gar wanted some answers, yet his quick rise to temper made him suddenly very woozy. He stopped, lay back and took a few deep breaths.

  The one called Kai looked as though he was going to be sick himself. Tyro glared at the shorter tribesman as if expecting some sort of action. In a few tense moments something was decided between them. The girl named Cho broke the silence.

  “Kai will explain everything. Please trust us, no one meant you any harm.”

  “What do you mean, no one meant me any harm?” Gar asked warily.

  Kai lifted his hands to Gar’s face. He flinched at first but then allowed it. The feeling that the primitive was only trying to help kept flowing over him. Still, back on Orestus, if anyone had dared to touch him without his permission, that person could’ve been put to death.

  “So angry,” said Kai, as his fingers gently rested on Gar’s temples, sensing his inner turmoil.

  The native’s touch was soothing. The prince assumed he had not meant for it to have this effect but liked it. Had this been another situation…