Extinction_Planet Urth

by Jennifer Martucci

  John just shrugs and looks at William, which induces another fit of laughter.

  “You sure you don’t want a drink?” Mim struggles through laughter to speak. “This way you can look like George!” He’s gasping and doubled over with laughter.

  Tears are streaming down my face and my stomach hurts from laughing so hard. Sully isn’t faring much better. His face is contorted in laughter and he’s barely able to catch his breath.

  After several moments pass, the laughter dies down. We’re left with sporadic chuckles. I wipe my eyes with the back of my hands and say, “Mim, thank you. Thank you for this.”

  Mim bows his head and says playfully, “My pleasure, Avery. I only wish to serve.”

  I smile and remember why we stopped by Vox in the first place. “So, will we see you at the party?”

  Mim shifts his weight from one leg to the other. He rubs the back of his thick neck, his fingers trailing over rolls of fat there. “I don’t know. I’ll try but I can’t shut the place down. I don’t want to lose business.”

  “I understand,” Sully says. “You have four at home.”

  “Yeah. Number five will be along in the spring,” he mentions.

  “What? You didn’t tell us last time we were here!” I say and immediately hug him. “Congratulations!”

  “Congratulations,” Sully adds.

  “Thank you. Thank you,” Mim says to each of us. “I can’t wait. I love my kids so much! The more the merrier!”

  “Oh that’s such great news! You’re such a good dad,” I say.

  “I don’t know about the good dad part. I’m here more than I’m home. But it is good news. And when I’m home, I make the minutes count.” Mim’s smile is happiness personified.

  “That’s what counts,” I say. “Good, quality time is worth more to them than being around all the time and ignoring them, right?”

  “I suppose you’re right.” Mim nods.

  I smile and say, “I hope to see you and your family later. We’ll be celebrating all night so try to get out of here early. The party won’t be the same without you and your gang.”

  “I’ll be there,” Mim looks directly into my eyes and says.

  “Great!” Sully says. Then to the boys, he says, “Come on, guys. Time to go.”

  John groans and William lowers his chin to his chest.

  “Bye, Mim!” John says.

  “Bye, guys. I’ll see you later,” Mim replies.

  “Thanks for the bread,” John adds before he starts walking with Sully.

  “Thank you,” William says as well.

  “You are welcome.” Mim waves.

  We return to the truck. Once the boys are inside, Sully starts the engine. We drive toward the edge of town to meet Prince Garan. As the tires roll over bits of rock and sand, all I can think to myself is how I cannot believe this is my life. I turn and look at my children then at Sully and a sense of awe claims me. I am happy. Truly happy. I’m not embroiled in a battle for the survival of my species. I’m not hiding in trees or caves, eating rats to subsist. I’m not on the run. I’m just ... happy. My thoughts are centered on a party. A party that commemorates peace and freedom. My freedom. My family’s freedom. Our peace. As far as I can tell, life is pretty perfect.

  Chapter 2

  “There it is! There’s the gate!” John’s voice pitches high. He’s bouncing up and down in his seat and reaches over to grab William’s arm. Gripping it with one hand while he points with his index finger on the other, he says, “Prince Garan is gonna love our weapons!” The excitement he struggles to contain is palpable. William smiles. “He’s definitely gonna want to have them made for his guardsmen! I just know it, Will!”

  Will nods.

  Sully glances up, smiling at the boys through the rearview mirror.

  The towering structure that looms ahead is what garners so much excitement. No matter how often we come here, John’s enthusiasm doesn’t diminish. Not that I blame him. King Garan’s castle is impressive. Set on level, grassy land, the castle is marked by a pale stone keep and turrets at each corner that soar skyward. Though many of the elaborate details of the windows have eroded over time, some at higher points of the exterior remain and bear distinctive carvings and designs. I imagine that at some point long ago in history, those complex carvings and designs indicated importance. Perhaps other rulers resided beyond them. Perhaps the markings were for them. My mind swirls around the infinite possibilities of their meaning as we follow a gravel pathway to the main entrance: an imposing gate. Flanked by two towers, the gate is made of latticed metal and wood. The thin horizontal panels and rows of thin vertical panels intersect to form squares through which onlookers can see. The only view is darkness, however. Around the structure is an intricately crafted archway made of stone. The stone is part of a sprawling castle in which the Urthman King resides. King Garan, Prince Garan’s father, and the Royal Guard occupy it and have since before the Treaty took effect. Impressive in every sense of the word, I suppose the castle was meant to intimidate. To show status to those the king ruled. But once King Garan came to power, all of that changed. Guards still stand sentinel at the gate, but guards stand watch at my gate, as well. Such is the protocol for rulers it seems. Fortunately, King Garan’s castle, and the Urthmen who guard it, have come to be a friendly and familiar sight.

  Our truck rumbles to a stop. Gus, one of the Guardsmen, recognizes us immediately and clips his chin in our direction. The other, an Urthman named Fagan, calls, “Avery! Sully!” He approaches our vehicle as Sully turns off the engine and slides out from behind the steering wheel. He makes his way toward the Urthmen and greets them.

  “Gus! Fagan! How are you?” He shakes hands with both guards. “We’re here to see Prince Garan.”

  “Doing well,” Fagan says. “Getting chilly in these parts lately, though.” He shivers exaggeratedly just as I exit the truck, John bounding toward him and Gus with a grin. William is just a step behind his brother. “Oh here they are!” Fagan exclaims. “Hi, John! Hi, William!” Fagan smiles, revealing small, pointed teeth. He ruffles their hair before turning his attention to us. “Prince Garan is expecting you.”

  “Let me open the gate,” Gus says. “He’s got a lot of stuff to give you for the party tonight. I hope it all fits!” Gus chuckles as he makes his way to the gate. He shouts an order and immediately, the grind of metal grating against metal emits a mournful sound, the gears locking in place and lifting the latticed entrance.

  Sully and I, along with the boys, climb back inside the truck. The truck’s engine snarls to a start. The gate opens and we are waved beyond the threshold and through a dark corridor before the passageway opens to a vast, roofless space. There, Urthmen bustle about, moving bushels of hay and pulling wagons laden with fruits and vegetables. Sully stops the truck, pulling it to the right, just as Prince Garan rounds the corner in the distance. Escorted by two guards and a portly Urthman by the name of Cadogan, the prince smiles broadly. Tall and fit and with eyes as dark and shiny as polished onyx, Prince Garan looks unlike any Urthman I’ve ever seen. Namely because most—if not all—Urthmen I’ve ever seen are bald. Save for a few wiry sprigs, Urthmen heads are devoid of hair. But not Prince Garan. Prince Garan has long cords of braided hair that fall past his shoulders. His father has similar hair but keeps his banded in a leather strip at the nape of his neck. The prince’s flows freely and billows in the slight breeze that sneaks through cracks and hollows of the castle.

  Catching sight of us, Prince Garan’s pace quickens and a grin lights his face. Cadogan struggles to keep up, waddling and leaning forward slightly as his small feet shuffle beneath his plump frame.

  Sully and I exit the truck with the boys.

  “Prince Garan!” John exclaims as soon as the prince is within earshot. He darts off toward Prince Garan with William in tow.

  I part my lips to call after them, but the sight of Prince Garan’s arms open wide silences me. He kneels as soon as they reach him and embraces the
m. “Hey you two!” he says as soon as he releases them. “Are you excited for the party tonight?”

  They both bob their heads. John says, “Yeah, we’re excited. And we’re excited to show you our weapons!”

  “Ahh, so you did your homework!” Prince Garan claps his hands together, rubbing them as if he’s eager to see what they have in store for him. “I have been looking forward to see what you’ve come up with all week! But first, I need to handle some grown-up stuff with your mom and dad.” He rolls his eyes and frowns exaggeratedly just before looking our way. “Oh hey Avery! Hey Sully!” he says and winks at John and Will. He stands.

  “How are you?” Sully steps toward Prince Garan and shakes his hand. They exchange warm smiles.

  “I’m great, my friend! This is a happy day!” Prince Garan replies.

  “It sure is,” Sully agrees.

  “Avery! You look as lovely as ever,” Prince Garan says as he hugs me over my children’s heads.

  Prince Garan’s entourage remains a step behind him, Cadogan busies himself by turning and conversing with the two guards, though somehow I get the impression he’s listening intently to every word spoken among us.

  “Thank you.” I feel my cheeks flush not only at the compliment but also at what I perceive as surreptitious behavior on Cadogan’s part. I try to force suspicion to the back of my mind. Prince Garan is not only one of my sons’ best friends, he is also one of mine and Sully’s, as well. I highly doubt he’d ever surround himself with sneaky people. He’s one of the few people I trust with my life, and with my children’s lives, which means I trust his judgment and decisions. King Garan is trustworthy, too. Though I’ve had far fewer interactions with him than I do with Prince Garan, I still consider him among my closest friends. I never thought I’d live to see the day when I could be in the presence of an Urthman and not engage in a fight to the death. I am eternally grateful that times change. Both the human species and the Urthman species have proven capable of change. And change we have! The ten years of peace marked by the party tonight is proof. Still, something in Cadogan’s demeanor awakens an instinct I’ve not had use for in recent years.

  “Tonight is going to be some party,” Garan comments, returning my attention to the momentous occasion. His gaze vacillating between Sully and me. “The food is loaded onto wagons. I’ll have it brought around. I’m sure you have a lot of preparing to do.”

  “We really do. But it should be fun,” I say.

  “Can I help? I can ride back with you guys and help with the preparations,” Prince Garan offers.

  I watch as Cadogan’s ears prick at the prince’s proposal.

  “No! You have done enough by donating so much food!” Sully says.

  “Yes, thank you so much for your contribution,” I say.

  “Thank you so much for my contribution?” The prince’s brow lowers. “Since when did we become so official with each other?”

  “Huh?” I ask confusedly.

  “Of course I’m sending food. Not out of obligation but because we’re friends. And because Urthmen are coming. And Urthmen eat way more than humans do,” he jokes.

  “And drink more!” Sully adds teasingly.

  “Well, yeah. I think everyone knows that by now.” Prince Garan tosses his hands in the air.

  And just like that, any and all alleged formality dissipates. We are simply a group of friends talking.

  “So can I help?” Prince Garan offers a second time. “It’ll be fun. We can hang out with the boys and catch up on gossip.”

  In my periphery, I watch as Cadogan nearly topples over, arching his spine backward to hear what’s being said.

  “I think we should be okay. Besides, I’m worried we wouldn’t be much fun at all. We have a lot of help.” Sully rolls his eyes.

  “Oh. Got ya. I know what that’s like. Having lots of help sometimes means having lots of chaos.” He laughs heartily.

  “Exactly,” Sully says. “We’re grateful for all of the volunteers, don’t get me wrong. But I think it might be hectic as we get closer to the time of the actual celebration.”

  “I completely understand. I’ll be there at five then, as planned. In the meantime, let’s get the food loaded and get you on your way. But I’d really like to get together after the party and just spend some time at Cassowary with you and the boys.”

  “I’d love that,” I answer. “You have an open invitation.”

  “Yeah, you can even sleep over and stay with Will and me!” John chimes in.

  “Now that sounds like a plan!” Prince Garan replies.

  Prince Garan turns to Cadogan and says, “Cadogan, please go and alert Zion that Avery and Sully are here. The food needs to be loaded onto their truck.”

  Cadogan nods. “As you wish,” he says. Though his words and tone are pleasant enough, something in his features—his expression—borders on smug. I can’t pinpoint what exactly it is. Perhaps it’s the smile he wears that doesn’t quite reach his eye or the stiffness with which he spoke. I’m not sure. But when he leaves to notify Zion of our arrival, I ask Prince Garan about his assistant.

  “How is Cadogan working out as your...what is he again?” I ask.

  Garan chuckles. “You know, I’m not quite sure. He’s with me all the time and tries to advise me on everything from what shirt I’ll wear to what food I’ll eat and who I will see on any given day.”

  “Sounds annoying,” Sully comments under his breath.

  “You know, it really is.” Prince Garan shakes his head and laughs. “But his father is in charge of a territory called Elian and asked my father to have him here. And you know my dad.” Prince Garan shrugs. “He’ll do anything for a family member or friend.”

  “So he just kind of hangs around and makes suggestions? Is that his job?” Sully asks.

  “Kind of. But he was never officially hired. It’s really strange. But I guess he’s my unofficial shadow,” Prince Garan says in a deadpan voice so convincing Sully and I merely stand silently. But within seconds, Garan’s laughter echoes through the space.

  Sully and I laugh, as well. John and William watch us, wondering what has gotten into us I’m sure. Still they smile, giggling and joining in the gaiety.

  “Sounds like an interesting arrangement,” I say.

  “Yeah, sounds...fun,” Sully adds.

  “It’s awful really. You know how I am. I think for myself. I’m not one who likes someone constantly whispering in my ear and trying to influence my decisions.” He cups his hands around his mouth and murmurs loudly, “Wear the green shirt, Prince Garan. It matches the grass and makes you look taller.” He chuckles. “Who needs that?”

  “No one,” Sully replies to the rhetorical question.

  “Exactly. No one. Not even these little warriors!” He turns his attention to John and William. “Right?”

  “Right!” John calls out.

  I turn and look at him, arching an eyebrow.

  “Uh, except Mom,” he says.

  Sully clears his throat.

  “And Dad!” John adds quickly.

  Prince Garan laughs. “Of course Mom and Dad!” Then in a hushed voice that sounds conspiratorial he says, “Even I still listen to my parents.”

  Wide eyed, John says, “You do?”

  Prince Garan nods. “I sure do. And do you know why?”

  “Because King Garan has guards who will kill you if you don’t! And we don’t want you to get killed!”

  “Thank you,” Prince Garan looks at him and answers. “But that’s not entirely true. I don’t listen for that reason. Why do you think I listen to my parents?”

  In a quiet voice, William, looking down at his feet, says, “Because they are older and have seen things you haven’t seen. They love you and look out for you. And because you respect them.”

  Prince Garan pauses a moment. He rears his head ever so slightly, tipping it to one side as he studies William. “My friend,” he says as he kneels to be at eye-level with him. “You are absolutely
right. I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

  William lifts his eyes so that they meet Prince Garan’s. Prince Garan smiles and William returns the expression. “Thank you,” he says softly.

  Prince Garan places a hand on William’s shoulder just as Cadogan returns, leading a veritable caravan of overflowing wagons. Cadogan cranes his neck, narrowing his beady eyes to see what’s happening between my sons and the prince. His behavior makes me bristle. I watch him intently. So intently he looks away, calling out to Zion then breaking away from the convoy. He lumbers over to where we stand, breathless, and offers the same smile that doesn’t touch his eyes. “Hi boys! Hi Avery and Sully!” he says as if he’s seeing all of us for the first time. Earlier, he didn’t bother to acknowledge us, a point that chafed me then and chafes me now. “My brother just radioed me that he has ten crates of wine he’d like to give you for the celebration tonight.”

  I stare at him, wondering why he makes mention of his brother as if we’re supposed to know who he is. “Your brother?”

  “Oh, apologies.” Cadogan bows slightly. His tone is saccharine. “My brother Leo has a vineyard on the grounds. He lives in a small cottage beside it, he loves it so dearly he can’t bear to be away from it.” He regards us curiously, as if expecting some kind of response. When one isn’t offered, he continues. “Yes, well.” He clears his throat. “We need to head over to the vineyard to pick it up.” He clasps his hands in front of his chest and awaits our reply.

  “Oh, they’d have to go to the vineyard,” Prince Garan says and frowns. “Avery and Sully are hosting a huge celebration at Cassowary as you know and they need to prepare. I’m afraid they don’t have time to spare.”

  “The vineyard?” John asks. “It sounds like fun!”

  “It sure does,” I say and waggle my eyebrows at him.

  “Can we please go? Pretty please? It sounds like fun there,” John begs.

  Even William slides a pleading glance my way.

  “I’m really not sure we have time,” I say.

  “It is one of his finest batches,” Cadogan adds with an eye roll and a shoulder shrug. “Surely you have hundreds, maybe thousands, of humans helping. The hour you take to stop off at the vineyard and accept my brother’s most generous gift would hardly be lost.”