by James Porter
“I’m not crazy!” She said it louder than she had intended and looked around to see if anyone had heard. She laughed. “No one here to judge you, just the plants, and they don’t mind.” Misty stood up and brushed her hands down her skirt as if straightening it out, then brushed her hair out of her face. She turned her face to the sun and closed her eyes outstretched her arms and felt the warmth wash over her. She pretended she was one of the little blue flowers rooted in the cool soil. She felt her body sway slightly in the breeze in harmony with the swaying flowers as it absorbed the life giving sunshine. She smiled and dropped her arms and with a sigh decided she had best be on her way. She took two steps and froze. The hair on her neck stood on end and she felt the primal fear of prey being stalked. She quickly looked around and came eye-to-eye with a large boar. It had to be nearly 350 pounds and its beady little eyes bored through her with a fiery intensity that meant business. Misty knew that there were feral hogs in the forest, but she had never seen one before, especially not one this big or threatening. The boar snorted and shook its head in piggish anger, kicking dirt into a cloud of dust around it. Misty took a breath and locked eyes with the huge animal. There was no way that she could outrun this beast, she was the cornered animal frantically looking for a way out. She just stood there staring into the dark little eyes of the huge pig. Maybe I can stare it down. It was a long shot, but at this point there was nothing to lose. .She concentrated with all her focus and willed the beast into submission. She was making the boar’s spirit break and submit to her.
“Shhhhhhh. Be gone pig, return to your home and leave me be.” She continued to stare deep into the hog’s soul, unrelenting and unyielding. She pictured a swirl of cosmic energy flowing out of her and towards the large beast, wrapping it in a violet blanket of peace and calm. The giant boar gave a snorting grunt and shook its head as if to clear a fog. “I am not your enemy. I mean you no harm.” Misty continued focusing on the wild pig as she softly tried to talk it down. With a loud snort of contempt the hog turned and trotted back into the forest. Misty collapsed into the dirt, shaking from fear and something else...exhilaration? Did I actually command that pig to leave? Maybe I really can communicate with nature!
“Now you are being crazy.” She believed for a moment that her mother may have been right. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. Misty decided crazy or not, what had happened was extraordinary, and very lucky. That boar could have torn her apart as easily as plucking petals from a flower. She regained her composure and stood up, looked around for any other signs of danger and then went on her way. She continued down the path stopping periodically to praise a tree or compliment some flowers on their beauty, talking to everything and nothing at the same time, her voice soft and her laughter gentle. The forest’s only response was to gently sway in the wind, which was enough of a response to keep her conversation going. As she walked away they forest behind her seemed to wilt back to silence and stillness. Her energy and vitality radiated around her bringing the forest alive, but once she left it drained from the area quickly, leaving a very dull and ordinary forest in her wake.
Star couldn’t believe her luck, Atlantis may be destroyed and gone, but here was a child of the Great Ones, and a Forest-Talker at that! She had obviously charmed the beast and made it leave. The way the forests swayed at the sound of her voice even though there was no wind today leaves little doubt that there was some sort of connection. The whole clearing had been swaying with her and when she stretched her arms to the sun the flowers and grass had all grown at least three inches! Normally a Forest Talker had the third eye that opened when they were communing with nature. Star hadn’t seen one appear on this woman, but the evidence was there. Perhaps as her powers developed the third eye would reveal itself. Either way, Star was sure that this woman could potentially talk to and influence the beasts back on her planet and possibly soothe the anger that made them hate her people so much. Star was beginning to once again feel the embers of hope start to warm within her chest. Her people weren’t saved yet, but she sure as hell was going to give them a fighting chance.
Chapter 4
Falls Church, Virginia.
FBI Special Agent Doug Moot had just got his coffee and bagel when he got the call. The call that would change everything. He wasn’t happy to have his morning routine interrupted, but the call was certainly more important than his petty quirks.
“Moot, we’ve got a special case for you that I know will be right up your alley.” The man on the other end of the phone was Supervisory Agent Alan Bell, Moot’s boss. He wasn’t a bad boss, but Moot felt like Bell didn’t take him serious as an agent. Granted there were a few misunderstandings that had been setbacks. Mistaking the Prime Minister’s daughter for a ninja assassin was not real good. Driving the Vice President’s car into the bay because of a suspicious package in the back seat. He thought it was a bomb, the package actually turned out to be an expensive, rare African parrot. A gift from the African Ambassador, the bird didn’t make it. All unfortunate, but perfectly explainable. This time he would be all over this case and prove that he was a real agent and not some terrible screw up.
“Moot I need you to follow the itinerary I am sending you, to the letter, no deviations authorized” He sent the information to Moot’s phone. Bell had devised a plan for Moot the minute he got the message from the deep space observatory about the mystery ‘object.’ He would send Moot on a wild goose chase after some UFO, and with Moot being Moot, he was sure to screw it up and he could finally fire the jerk agent. That would be the last time Alan Bell got chewed out for something Moot did. Agent Moot was unaware of the malicious intent of his boss’ instructions and proceeded to follow them to the letter. First stop for him was going to be the secret deep space observatory lab that had received the mysterious readings. He took one bite of the bagel and tossed it into the trash, then he promptly burned his mouth on the hot coffee nearly spitting it back out. His face contorted in pain as he dumped the coffee into the trash on top of the bagel. He went to his tan government issued Toyota Corolla and tried to start it. On the third try it roared to life as much as the poor car could and he drove straight to the airport. No time to pack anything, this was urgent government business. His confirmation number was texted to him and getting on the plane was relatively seamless. When he saw what he would be flying in he thanked the gods that he didn’t have any luggage and climbed the rickety ladder into the tiny plane. The plane itself seated 15 people, but he found himself alone on this flight. He landed in a small dump of an airport somewhere in Brazil and had instructions to take a bus to a small town in an even more remote location. He shared the ride with some locals, a few chickens and a goat. The old lady across from him stared and smiled the whole time. He took note and memorized her features so he could verify she wasn’t an enemy agent later. Once he arrived at the town he had to take a taxi to the end of a dead end road. He got out and started walking into the jungle. The swarm of mosquitos was his only travelling companions at this point and he cursed the fact that he was so very tasty to them. He walked until he found a small 2o foot clearing with a chain link fence around it. The fence had a gate and a key pad. He approached the gate and entered the secret combo that was required. The gate popped open and simultaneously a section of the ground inside the fence started to rise up revealing a staircase. He climbed down the spiraling stairs and found himself inside the secret lab. He was greeted by Dr. John Green and Dr. Gwen Funder who welcomed him to the lab, then they got down to business.
They led him to the small laboratory where Dr. Funder started the briefing.
“So what we have here Mr. Moot is basically an abnormal signature showing up in different frequencies around the Gulf of Mexico area. We can see by its trajectory that it has been sporadically moving up and down from the Gulf to Missouri and back. It’s faster than anything we’ve ever seen. According to the spectral phase residue in the trans-gravitational layers we know that this thing has to be using a phased plasma
array propulsion system.” Moot shuffled his feet uncomfortably. The room was filled with all sorts of equipment with various flickering lights and displays. Moot looked around the room with his well-trained eyes and took in even the smallest details. As an agent, everything is a clue until it isn’t a clue. He smiled at the clever wording of his thoughts and decided that one should go into his memoirs.
“Ma’am, I’m not exactly sure what a trans-phase specter thing is, so can you please get to the point? What exactly are we talking about?”
“Mr. Moot, what it means is you have a UFO flying around Missouri, and it’s not even trying to hide itself.” Dr. Green spoke up at this point.
“We have tried to match the signature to any known and quote ‘unknown’ aircraft and this is not in any database anywhere.” As the woman talked, Moot got out his notepad and started jotting down notes. Two brainy scientists, and a bunch of scientific mumbo jumbo. Frequencies of 133.45 Hz and 120.32 Hz showing on equipment. Something not aligned with his government doing God knows what over American soil.
“Okay got it. UFO, Missouri, no known Aircraft. Piece of cake. Rest assured esteemed scientists, I’m on the case now. This thing is as good as caught.” The two scientists stood silent as the agent turned and walked away leaving the way he came in.
“I sure hope whatever it is isn’t hostile.” Dr. Funder stated as he slowly shook his head.
“If it is, we are all definitely doomed.” Dr. Green added as they contemplated the events that had just transpired.
Moot left the way he came in and started to plan the long trip that would be ending in Missouri. He just needed to make a quick stop at the local FBI field office to run his description of the old lady on the bus.
Chapter 5
Hwy 44, near Marshfield, Missouri.
The metal spike on the end of the stick pierced the paper slushy cup on the side of the highway.
“Might have been one of mine” muttered the wielder of the stick. Alan Dunn walked along the side of the highway absentmindedly prodding his stick at trash in a halfhearted attempt to pick it up. “Hey boss man, what’s the point? No matter how much we pick up, there’s always more. People just don’t care.” At least I don’t. He silently added to his statement.
“Well son, you see, the more trash people throw out onto the ground, the more trash I have for you pea-brains to pick up, thus fulfilling your debt to society.” The sheriff’s deputy was leaning against the van that had brought them all to this section of the highway. The judge had been fairly lenient on Alan with 200 hours community service. Alan had been snagged in this free labor scheme over a slushy cup. Every Saturday night he would walk a mile down to the Five to One gas station and buy a pack of mini doughnuts and an extra-large slushy. Being an avid gamer and self-proclaimed hacker, this was actually a nice routine to get him ready for the night’s activities of glorious face-to-face combat or nefarious file cracking. Like any other night he would finish the doughnuts before getting out of the parking lot and the wrapper was allowed to lazily escape his grasp and stutter around in the breeze eventually scraping the concrete as it skidded to a landing. He enjoyed the little act of defiance and thought to himself that the wrapper did too, doing a little dance as it skittered away from him in victory. The slushy usually took a little longer to finish, but Alan was 6’3” and 270 lbs., so it didn’t take much longer, and soon he was sucking air in great bursts through the red straw as if they were the last breaths he was ever going to take. Sure that no more of the sugary drink was left he chucked the cup over his left shoulder into the street, and right onto the windshield of a passing police car.
Two weeks later, the judge ordered him to serve 200 hours community service, seeing as he was a repeat offender. That’s the thing with routines, sometimes they don’t work in your favor, and now with the hot sun glaring down on his back, Alan was really wishing he had a slushy.
“Can I get some water? I’m dying over here” He coughed a little to emphasize the dying part.
“Yeah, go ahead, but make it quick.” The deputy eyeballed him the whole way to the back of the van where the large orange cooler sat shaded from the sun. A package of cone shaped paper cups lay haphazardly tossed next to the cooler, he grabbed a cup and filled it with water. He dramatically wiped the sweat from his brow and drank the cool water, then he unceremoniously tossed the cup over his left shoulder into the road. He didn’t even realize what he had done until the deputy spoke up.
“Seriously punk? What the hell is wrong with you?” As the deputy moved toward him Alan was getting pretty fed up with all of this.
“I’ll tell you what’s wrong. Me picking up other peoples’ trash in the heat of the sun over a got damn slushy cup!” He hadn’t intended for his voice to rise but as it did he started to get pretty worked up. “You’ve got what, six of us, out here picking up the litter that the rest of the human race dumped! Why aren’t you out there catching them?” The deputy was standing in front of him now.
“Because we caught you, cupcake. Now be a good little miscreant and get back to work!” The deputy put all his emphasis on the ‘get back to work’ part. Alan really didn’t like being told what to do, it usually made him want to do the opposite out of spite.
“No.” The word escaped his lips before he realized what he was saying. Once it was said though, Alan owned it. He had picked his stance and would live or die defending it, no matter how stupid or wrong it was.
“Get back to work, now!” The deputy pulled out his baton and tapped it menacingly into his other hand.
“No.” The warm wind played across his determined face, his hair flicking across his brow. This was not going to go well, stubbornness can be a persons’ worst enemy.
“Get back to work, or else!” The deputy was starting to turn red, and the words barely escaped his clenched teeth.
Eye-to-eye they stared at each other in defiance, sweat dripping down their faces as they each waited for the other to act. Alan didn’t say a word, all he did was lift his bag of trash chest high and dump it out on the ground. The deputy’s eyes almost exploded out of their sockets and his teeth were on the verge of cracking from clenching even harder. Before the deputy could even respond, Alan started jumping up and down on the pile of trash.
“I – Will – Single – Handedly – Kill – Mother – Nature!” The other guys in the litter crew were practically cheering as he stomped up and down on the pile of refuse. “All the world will succumb to the evil that is Litter Bug Man. Die! Die! Die!” Alan kicked the pile of trash right before the deputy tackled him to the ground and started beating him with his baton. Before he was beaten unconscious, Alan thought he might have overdid it a bit this time.
Star was having trouble tracking the human’s conversation while simultaneously maneuvering the ship to stay hidden in the clouds. She wasn’t sure exactly how technological the earthlings actually were as they seemed to be at a significantly lower level than the Atlanteans had been. Which was both a curse and a blessing. It was a curse as she had no idea how she was going to rescue her people without some sort of starship-like vehicle, but it was a blessing because these humans were so much more barbaric and seemed to have no problem with destroying a natural environment. They were the perfect killers, but she only had room for only a handful of them, so she would have to pick wisely. She focused the viewer on the people below her, so tiny at this distance they hardly seemed like people at all. What better person to pick than a heartless devil who picks up the environment damaging trash only to fling new trash down in its place? He actually was yelling that he would destroy his own planet by himself! Surely he must be one of their greatest fiends, this Litter Bug Man. The cruelty of it made her circuits quiver in disgust, a reaction merely programmed into her, but real enough to cause her to have to look away. “I’m not sure that I can actually go through with this strange plan of mine” She had to say something to break the silence. Watching all this destruction and violence left an unease in her that she
couldn’t shake. She hoped beyond hope that the Forest Talker would be their savior, but she knew that at this point nothing was guaranteed. She would be lucky to actually make it back before her people were obliterated off the face of the planet.
Chapter 6
Somewhere near Eureka Springs, Arkansas.
Bud Acres was sitting in a tree stand about twelve feet up an old oak tree on the edge of a cornfield. He could see both directions into the field and a little below him. This was the perfect spot. He had been watching it all summer, following the trails to see where the deer would be coming from, and where they would be going. The point he had chosen was in a slight valley which flattened out into the rows of corn, which was the exact point the deer were coming from to eat the corn. If the scrapes and markings he had seen were any indication it probably meant this was going to be the biggest buck he had ever seen, or so he hoped. He sat quietly in the dark of the early morning waiting for the deer to wake up and head to the breakfast. He deftly held his recurve bow in one hand with an arrow notched and waiting for the command to kill. He was relaxed while he waited, knowing that the deer would come, and then he would have an eternity of straining muscle and reflex as he drew down on his target. A twig snapped, and he knew the procession had begun. Then he could hear the deer approaching from the woods behind him, and as much as he wanted to turn and see his prey, his experience and nerves of steel kept him calm as a summer day. The deer seemed to magically materialize in front of him, shadowy silhouettes in the morning dark, barely discernable from a bush except for the fact that they were moving. He heard a loud snort break the silence and knew that his trophy had arrived. The does jumped and frolicked out into the dark field as their leader hung back for a moment before entering the field. This was the critical moment, and Bud held his breath, he wanted nothing left to chance. The buck paused and sniffed the air, it could tell something wasn’t quite right, but everything was mostly right, so his poor brain didn’t have enough fear input to turn and run. The majestic animal decided to stride out of the woods just as the first rays of dawn broke over the hills, and Bud was awestruck by just how big this thing was. It was at least as tall as Bud was at the shoulders, which meant at least 5’8”, and the rack was huge, at least fifteen points per side, all regular and matching. It was so beautiful it almost brought a tear to Bud’s eye, except Bud was too busy drawing his bow. In one smooth motion he stood and drew the string to his cheek, and gave a quick grunt and released his shaft of death at the now alert target. The buck froze at the strange grunt and then bent his legs in an attempt to start to run, but the expert hunter had anticipated that exact move and the arrow found its target. The buck twisted with the impact of the arrow and dropped dead on the spot as the arrow travelled through his heart and out the other side. Bud let out a whoop and climbed down the tree, still a little bit in awe at the sheer size of the buck he had just bagged. He walked up to it and gave his respects to the animal that just helped feed him through the coming winter, and then propped the buck’s head up and took a selfie.