by Gini Koch
“We didn’t tell you about the Poofs because we didn’t want to scare you,” I said, when there was a pause in the antenna waving. “And we know we’re what attracted that snakipede thing to your nest. That’s why we were the ones who killed it.”
“Snakipede?” Christopher asked.
“It’s Kitty, why ask why? But if you need a translation, that snake had what looked like a hundred tiny wings instead of legs, which is where the centipede part comes in, I’m sure.”
“Right you are, Chuckie. And, guys? Be ready to be tossed out of the nest. I can understand why our hosts are upset with us, even though we had no idea that the snakipede existed, let alone that it would hear the noises all of us make while we’re sleeping.”
I was saying this far more for the katyhopper elders’ benefit than anyone else’s and I was happy to note both men seemed to catch on.
“Were any katyhoppers hurt?” Chuckie asked.
Antennae waved. “No, the snakipede spent too much time keeping them in the nests and playing around. Thankfully. And I distracted it just in time.”
“Good,” Christopher said. “Is there anything we can do to help fix nests or the protective illusion or similar?”
Antennae waved again, but this time with much less agitation. “No. We can’t fix anything. Unfortunately, the nest is fouled due to the snakipede’s head exploding all over it.”
And this was the main point of contention—we may have saved the day, but we’d also destroyed their home in the process.
“I can clean it, in less time than anyone else, if someone tells me what needs to be done to get rid of whatever the snakipede’s residue is,” Christopher said calmly.
This earned him skeptical antenna waves from the elders.
“He can. He’s the fastest being out there, as far as we know. It’s worth a try, isn’t it? If he’s wrong, what do you lose?”
The elders communed together and finally admitted they’d lose nothing in Christopher making the attempt.
“Okay, they’re willing to let you try. It’s kind of complex and totally icky, by the way. What you have to do to clean up, I mean. And I’m not sure that Chuckie and I can help.”
“Don’t need it. I can manage. Just tell me what to do.”
Leaves from the trees were brought down, as were waterfruit. Basically, Christopher had to cleanse the nest using the trees. Which made some kind of sense.
Christopher zipped off to do what I could say with confidence was the weirdest housecleaning of his life. Pinky, Saffron, and Turkey went with him. Figured it was going to take him a little longer than normal, but probably not as long as the katyhoppers expected.
“I could understand most of what they were saying,” Chuckie said to me while we waited. “Not as much as you could, but then animal communication isn’t my talent.”
“No, being the smartest guy in the purple is. So, why do you think we can commune so easily with an alien race that has almost nothing in common with us, physically at least?”
“My guess is the air and the water are charged with something that enhances psionic ability. Meaning that your husband, if he’s here, may be able to find us if you just concentrate on him.”
“I’ll try that once we’ve fixed things with the katyhoppers. Besides, I don’t want Jeff or anyone else coming around here in the dark—the snakipedes are nocturnal. And there are definitely more of them.”
Elder antennae waved at this. There were many more of them, and I’d been correct in my assumption—the snakipedes were this area’s top predator. But they did offer some reassurances that I, personally, appreciated.
“Interesting,” Chuckie said. “Did I interpret correctly? They just told you that the snakipedes, as you’ve so aptly named them, aren’t intelligent like we, the Poofs, Bruno, and the katyhoppers themselves are?”
“That’s indeed what they shared. I’m glad. I was a little worried that I was killing something really smart. Then again, I’ve killed smart people. A lot, if I stop to count.”
“Yeah, let’s not list your carnage abilities for our new friends right now. Especially because we really want to keep them as our friends.”
“Well, that was gross,” Christopher said as he rejoined us. The katyhopper elders seemed shocked. Nice to know they didn’t have hyperspeed. “Now what?”
Pinky, Saffron, and Turkey arrived as he asked this. But before any katyhopper could wave an antenna at us, they all turned and looked up. So we did the same.
A large, ancient katyhopper was slowly descending from a nest above ours. I could tell it was old not only because of how slowly it was moving, but because its chitin was multicolored. It stopped at the nest above ours and began to wave its antennae at us.
Did the interpretation, just in case. “This is the colony’s, oh wow, matriarch. Or shaman. Or both. I think both. Every katyhopper here is related to her in some way and she’s been in this nest colony for, gosh, if I’m understanding this right, a thousand years.”
Chuckie whistled softly. “It’s possible. Based on coloration, shaman or similar is also a good bet.”
“She’s thanking us for saving the nest and you, in particular, Christopher, for cleansing it so well.”
“Ah, tell her I was happy to do it.”
“She can understand us. They all can. Their antennae take the sound waves and translate them into their heads. The Matriarch is tasking us with an important job, though.”
She waved antennae and even got her legs and wings into the action. Once I got what she was saying, though, I understood why.
“There is danger from above. And not just the snakipedes. The Matriarch has seen something they haven’t seen before in the skies. The other Matriarchs of the other katyhopper colonies that are, apparently, scattered throughout this part of the world, the purple part, all have seen it, too.”
“What have they seen?” Chuckie asked.
“They can’t describe it.”
The Matriarch hopped down to me and put her antennae against my temples. And I could see exactly what she had. And more. Then she backed away and waited.
“We’ll do what we can. All we can. I promise.”
The Matriarch waved her antennae, but this time at our three katyhoppers. Then she bowed to me, turned, and hopped back up to her nest.
“What did she show you?” Chuckie asked.
“What’s coming. What’s out there.”
“And that is?” Christopher asked.
“Spaceships. And lots of them.”
CHAPTER 21
DAWN WAS COMING, as fast as night had fallen. But we hadn’t slept any more after speaking with the Matriarch. Well, Christopher, Chuckie, and I hadn’t. The Poofs were snoozing in my purse and Bruno was on my lap, head tucked under his wing, getting in his forty winks, too.
But the three of us chose to sit and watch the katyhoppers recreate their shield.
“If I’d known we were going through that, I might not have wanted to,” Christopher said quietly.
“True enough.”
The katyhoppers sprayed a clear liquid out of their butts all over the inner part of their copse of trees. As it solidified, it took on the look of the trees around them, almost in mirror image, so that it made the copse look double its size and also as if there were no easy paths in between the trees.
It took a lot of katyhoppers to do this—all the adults in the colony as near as I could tell. All but our three, who were staying in the nest with us now. But that was because they were now assigned to us by the Matriarch. “I’m choosing to believe it’s water, okay?”
“I’m not,” Chuckie said. “But I’ll spare you what I think it is.”
“Thanks, and I mean that, Chuck.”
“You suffered enough with the snakipede cleanup, Christopher. I see no reason to share more.”
Wel
l, whatever else happened, these two had somehow crossed a bridge, and that was worth much of what we’d gone through.
The katyhoppers finished up and a few of them brought us more waterfruits. We finished up what we already had, and I put these new ones into my purse for later, just in case we couldn’t get back here easily. Better to save my special requests for hard-to-find and necessary items, versus something I could pluck off a local tree.
Then it was clearly time to go. We remounted our katyhoppers and they flew us around the nest. We waved our hands to the katyhoppers and they waved their antennae.
“It’s nice of them to tell us we always have a home here,” Christopher said as our katyhoppers landed on the ground and walked us back through what appeared to be a tree trunk but which we now knew was viscous katyhopper butt fluid.
Once outside the colony, though, Pinky shared that he’d like a destination. And I had no idea. “Um, let’s get up high and take a look around, okay?”
We did so, and flew around again, just as we had the day before. This time we flew more toward the mountains in the distance. The land was dotted with more than copses of trees—which were where I assumed the other katyhopper colonies resided. There were hillocks with large holes on their sides, covered with the purple plants but not butterflies. Figured this was where chameleons lived, and when one popped its head out and sent its tongue up at us, that assumption was confirmed.
After about an hour of leisurely flying we passed over a carcass. I had the katyhoppers bring us a little closer so we could examine it.
“Is that Louie the Lizard?” I hoped it wasn’t. I’d kind of gotten attached. But it was clear that the chameleon had been attacked by a snakipede, based on the fang marks, and a few other telltale signs, including what looked like a couple of snakipede wings. The chameleon had put up a fight. Good.
“Not sure,” Chuckie said. “But probably not. We’ve flown much farther than yesterday.”
“The chameleons are more sentient than the snakipedes.” Per the Matriarch, anyway, and I had no reason to disbelieve her.
“I’m sorry, Kitty,” Chuckie said gently, as we flew back up to where we had a better view of the horizon. “But we’re in an animal kingdom, and we ourselves eat animals that are intelligent.”
“I know. I just . . .”
“You just get attached easily. I know.” Chuckie jerked. “Hey, look.” He pointed off into the distance, where there was what looked like a different mountain range than the one we were heading for. “Christopher, is that dust being thrown up into the air?”
Christopher and I both squinted where Chuckie was pointing. “Yes, I think so,” Christopher said slowly.
“Wow, Eagle Eyes Reynolds, come on down.” It was dust—if the dust on this planet was a reddish-ochre color. Based on the riot of color around me that was a safe bet. After all, this might be the Purple Land, but the Matriarch had definitely insinuated there were plenty of other lands on Planet Colorful.
“That color wasn’t there a minute ago that I could see, that’s all,” Chuckie said. “But thanks for my Old West Name.”
“So, do we keep on going toward these purple mountains, or do we head for the brownish mountains where we think something’s going on?” Christopher asked.
Petted Bruno to wake him up. “Bruno my bird, are you up to some reconnaissance?”
He nuzzled me and gave me the head bob, meaning he was well rested and more than up to it. Bruno lifted off of Pinky’s back, but to my surprise, the katyhoppers all followed him.
“Pinky, my proud steed, why are we all changing course?”
Pinky waved back at me. We had no real destination, so one mountain range was as good as another.
Saffron waved her antennae, too. They’d never been allowed out of the Purple Lands and all three of them were excited about the adventure.
Made sense that we’d landed with the brave, adventuresome katyhoppers. Who else would have tried to save us versus run away or eat us, after all?
Bruno was flying pretty fast, certainly faster than we’d gone yesterday or had been going today, and the katyhoppers were having no trouble keeping up with him. “Katyhopper Express is the way to go. Are they using hyperspeed, do you think?”
In my experience, every being from the Alpha Centauri system was super-speedy. But the katyhoppers hadn’t shown any ability with this so far, and they’d been hella impressed by Christopher’s hyperspeed cleaning of their nest.
“Not quite,” Christopher said. “Not supersonic, either. Frankly, I just think they’re fast when they want or need to be, but not as fast as we are.”
“If they were A-C fast, they wouldn’t have been afraid of the snakipede,” Chuckie pointed out.
“So does that mean no beings on this planet have hyperspeed? And, if so, wouldn’t that be weird? Everyone else from this neck of the galactic woods has been super-fast.”
I’d just spent time going at supersonic speeds during Operation Bizarro World, so I could admit that this probably wasn’t that fast, and Christopher was our Resident Hyperspeed Expert.
But I knew the Peregrines had hyperspeed, and I also knew Bruno was going fast, and faster than I felt I’d seen him go on Earth. So, if he wasn’t using hyperspeed, but was still zipping along here, maybe Bruno could fly faster here at “normal” speeds for some reason. But I didn’t feel either more or less weighty, and my knowledge of physics said that if there was a stronger or lesser gravitational pull on a planet, I’d feel lighter or heavier.
“Christopher, do you have any idea if there is more gravitational pull on some of the planets than others?” Chuckie asked.
“Wow, the mind-reading thing is getting freaky.”
“It’s just a logical question under the circumstances,” Chuckie said.
“Yeah, it is,” Christopher said. “The question being logical and the mind reading being freaky, I mean. I have no idea about the gravitational pull, though. As with other things, if we can find Lorraine, Claudia, or Serene, they may know. But I don’t. And I don’t feel any different here than on Earth.”
“You mean besides being able to read each other’s minds and commune with the katyhoppers, right?”
Christopher barked a laugh. “Right.”
We flew on toward the brownish mountains. Despite our moving swiftly it was far away. We had to stop at a lone tree and have a rest, during which time the guys and I ate food bars and we all had some more waterfruit, which thankfully every tree in this region produced in abundance. Still, I took more, just in case. We were heading toward a different color scheme, and it might not be as generous with the life-sustaining plant life as this one was.
We took off again and finally could see where we were heading. It was far more like the dust—a reddish-ochre—than the mountains, which were mostly browns. As such, this area didn’t look nearly as inviting as what we were leaving. However, as with Purple Land, the colors were vibrant.
Finally, though, we left the purpleness fully and crossed over into reddish-ochre land. Didn’t feel any different here, and the katyhoppers seemed fine, so that was one for the win column.
There was less plant life here and more dirt, but the plants and trees and such were all reds, browns, tawny yellows and oranges, and the like. The plants were far more scattered here than in the Purple Land, though there were more trees, and many more rocks and boulders than I’d seen on this planet so far. Some of the trees sort of looked like citrus trees, but only just.
The biggest similarity to the Purple Land was that the plants were all monochromatic within their color of choice. If a plant was yellow-brown, it was all yellow-brown. If a tree was orange, all of it was orange, from bark to fruit. But nothing here smelled like oranges.
As with the purple part of this world, this area didn’t smell bad. But here the scent wasn’t sweet—it was the smell of burning wood without the
actual burning and sunsets. Mostly sunsets, really. Though, as with purple, before now I wouldn’t have said sunsets had a smell.
Chuckie cleared his throat. “Ah, do you two think this area smells like, ah, sunsets?”
“Yeah, I do. Along with burning wood that isn’t burned. And should I be glad we’re still able to read each other’s minds in this part of the world or not?”
“I get the smell of a cigarette before it’s lit along with, yes, sunsets,” Christopher said. “But worry about the smells and the mind-reading stuff later.” He sounded tense but not snarky. Wasn’t sure if that was a win or not, so decided to table that decision for later. “I can see what we’re heading toward. It’s a caravan of some kind.”
“How long before we intercept it?” Chuckie asked.
“Probably a couple of minutes. I don’t think they’re moving as fast as we are. Honestly, I don’t think they’re moving quickly at all. I’m pretty positive they’re at a fast walk, not any kind of run. And by fast walk I mean for a human, not an A-C.”
“Regular speed? Normalcy? Come on, I don’t think that’s exactly on the docket.”
Christopher managed a chuckle. “No, probably not. But we need to assume that they have projectile weapons of some kind with them, if only because giant flying snake-things exist in at least one part of this world and I can say that if whoever’s coming toward us is capable of it, making a weapon that could get rid of flying snakes while they were in the air would be the first thing I’d do.”
“Good point. But we don’t look like snakipedes. At least, I don’t think. Thank God.”
“No, but we have no idea if we look normal or threatening for around here.”
“Snakipede resemblance or not, I’d assume we look threatening,” Chuckie said. “Since even if the natives of this part of the world routinely ride on katyhoppers—which seems unlikely since our three friends have never left or been allowed to leave their region before—the Peregrine probably doesn’t look like native birds, and none of us have a hope of being dressed normally for around here.”