by Jack Doe
The human lay down on the big rectangle and pulled some coverings over itself, leaving only its head visible. It reached over to a funny-looking source of light, and the light disappeared. Anul'thek waited a moment and then crept forward. The human appeared to be sleeping, but it kept moving around so much that Anul'thek wondered if it actually was or not. He decided to keep his distance.
Sunrise came. Anul'thek stretched and hid on a side of the structure with no windows. An earth-shattering noise came from the human's window, and Anul'thek jumped in surprise, alarmed. The noise stopped, and the human made some grunting noises. Anul'thek relaxed and went back to listening.
Again the noise came, and Anul'thek jumped again. More grunting and some words that the linguists couldn't yet translate, and then Anul'thek heard footsteps, then running water. The water continued for a while, and then it stopped, and after a pause, he heard voices.
"How'd you sleep, Bryce?" one of the humans said.
"Ugh, terribly." The voice groaned.
"Why's that?"
"Just couldn't sleep. Tossed and turned all night, had this weird feeling I was being watched."
"That's odd. What would be watching you?"
"No idea. Weird that it happened last night of all nights." The voice stopped abruptly.
"What was special about last night?"
The voice paused. "Oh, um, you know, the new job and all," the voice said in a tone that interested the linguists; it seemed different from the conversational tone, although they couldn't place why.
"True, that," the other voice said. "Speaking of which, have a great second day!"
"What are you going to do today, Grandpa?" the other voice asked.
"I've got to go into town today to pick up some groceries," the other voice said.
There was silence for a while, and then the second voice spoke up. "All right. I'm out. See you tonight."
"Are you going to the pub?"
"I dunno. I might."
"If you do, say 'hello' to the bartender for me."
"Will do, Grandpa," the voice said with a chuckle.
The linguists were now fairly confident that the first voice belonged to "Grandpa," and the second voice belonged to "Bryce." Something had happened that Bryce was unhappy about, but the conversation had moved past it; therefore, it probably wasn't life-threatening. There was something interesting about his speech at one point; there was debate between the linguists as to what it meant. One thought he was hiding something; another thought he was being deceitful, and a third thought that he was fumbling for words. The consensus, though, was that there was something he was not telling Grandpa, but they didn't know what.
Moments later, the door opened, and the blond human straddled the machine, turned it around, and began moving away from the house. Ing'ma told Anul'thek to follow him.
It was challenging to pursue the human in the daylight without being seen. While there were not a lot of humans out and about, there was no cover for long stretches of ground, and Anul'thek felt vulnerable. Checking frequently for the coast to be clear, he would bolt from hedge to hedge or tree to tree, flattening himself out as much as possible and wait. Then he'd do it again and again. It was exhausting, but well worth the effort, Anul'thek thought.
At last the human came to a large, black area where he left his machine standing inside a strange zigzag of metal that Anul'thek could not explain. He walked across the road and disappeared inside a large building. Now Anul'thek had a problem: there was nowhere to hide here, and machines like the one he'd hidden behind the night before were starting to appear all over the place.
He retreated quickly back to his ship. From where he was, he could not see anything; however, if he took the ship up the hill, he would have a vantage point over the human's current location. He needed only to camouflage it. Fortunately, being a scouting vessel, it was well equipped for that. He climbed into it and focused on the bush under which it had just hidden, and soon it looked identical. Perfect. He focused on the hilltop, and the ship began to creep its way very slowly so as not to arouse suspicion. When it finally arrived an hour later, he trained its nose toward the building where the human had disappeared. He hoped that the human was still there; finding him otherwise would be a difficult chore. Fortunately, the sensors picked up the human's voice, and surprisingly, the visual sensor picked him up as well, several hundred feet past the building he'd been inside when Anul'thek left. As the ship transmitted the human's interactions back to his people hiding on the other side of the moon, he dozed off. He had been awake for what felt like a day already, even though the sun had just reached its zenith.
"Anul'thek! Anul'thek! Wake up!" Ing'ma's voice sounded in his head. Anul'thek jolted awake. Darkness had fallen, and a dim light was making its way straight for him. Anul'thek didn't know if Ing'ma had recognized the significance of that, or if there was another reason for waking him, but Anul'thek quickly thanked him, and in the darkness, he had the ship zip off to one side, out of the path of the slow-moving light.
As soon as the light got to the top of the hill, it stopped, and the human dismounted. In its hand, it had something large and round, club-shaped. Anul'thek tensed. There was a click, and a blindingly bright light emanated from the end of the club.
"Anul'thek!" Ing'ma's voice came again, "listen." Anul'thek let his attention drift to the voice in his head.
"The linguists spent the time you were asleep analyzing the humans' speech. Your position there was perfect; we were able to watch the human known as 'Bryce' as he interacted with quite a few people. And yes, we're confident Bryce is a 'he'. As a result, our linguists can translate their speech with reasonable confidence now."
"That's a good thing," Anul'thek replied.
"Anul'thek, the reason he didn't sleep last night was because he thought someone was watching him. He saw your landing, but he wouldn't recognize you or your craft. To him, it was just a big, bright light."
"How do you know this?"
"He talked to one of the people he works with, a person named Sheila. Apparently that is what he was hiding from 'Grandpa.' He hid something from her, too, related to Grandpa, and we don't know what."
"All right."
"He told her that he's going to scout around tonight to see if he can find something. Are you and your ship concealed?"
"Yes."
"Good. Keep your ship concealed, but he needs to find you."
Anul'thek did a double-take. "Find me? Why?"
Ing'ma's voice became tender. "We don't want to interfere with his sleep, Anul'thek."
"And how is his finding me _not_ going to interfere with his sleep?"
"It will undoubtedly interfere tonight, Anul'thek, but at least he will be able to sleep thereafter. He told Sheila that he would not rest until he found what was following him."
Anul'thek swallowed. "I didn't think I'd given any sign..."
"You did fine, Anul'thek," Ing'ma's voice said soothingly. "It seems to be some kind of sense this human has. Maybe it's just dumb luck; maybe it's real, but to him, it's very real, and he's on a mission to find you."
"I understand." Anul'thek hesitated. "So...how am I supposed to have him find me? Do I just walk up, 'Hi, human; I'm the one who's been stalking you?'"
Ing'ma's voice sounded amused. "That might not be the best way to do it, Anul'thek," he replied wryly. "Humans are afraid of things they don't recognize. Your best bet is to be smaller than he. How good are you at getting back to your feet?"
"It takes about a second."
"Good. Lie down and let him find you that way. If he intends to do you harm, which we don't think he does, do as little damage to him as possible and get out of there. We'll find another human."
"Understood."
"You're doing great, Anul'thek," his mentor said. Then it was silent.
Okay, right, thought Anul'thek. I've just got to lie down, hope this human doesn't try to kill me, and let him stumble over me. He took a deep breath and silently made h
is way away from his ship; he couldn't be found near it, lest the human figure out how to get back to his people. The bright light panned its way around to his right. He lay down and waited.
Chapter 9
Despite his terrible night, Bryce had had another great day. He made it to work fine, but the nagging feeling of being watched lingered throughout the day. He couldn't shake it. He mentioned it to Sheila, who said that it happened to folks occasionally, but she wouldn't worry about it. He mentioned the bright light the night before, which caught her interest, but both of them were at a loss to explain it. He told her at lunch that he intended to go back to where he thought he'd seen it go to try to puzzle it out. Maybe it was a meteoroid, he'd said. That'd be cool! She'd handed him a large torch "to help him see and to defend himself from things that go bump in the night." She'd grinned when she said it, but it gave Bryce the heebie-jeebies.
Other than that, the day had been awesome: he'd gotten to lead his first tour group, and he surprised himself with how much he knew about Stonehenge already. His boss shadowed him to help if he needed it, but he'd fielded each question masterfully. The tour groups had been interested in the monument, and his infectious enthusiasm had left all of them more excited about it than they had been when they first arrived. It was a great day.
"Sheila," he asked at the end of the night as she was about to leave, "do you think I could go sit inside Stonehenge by myself for a bit?"
Sheila frowned thoughtfully and said, "I don't think there'd be a problem with that. You know not to touch them, so I don't see why anybody would be bothered by it." He nodded, has she reached over to give him a hug. "Just make sure you get back home and get some sleep tonight," she admonished teasingly. "Can't have you up here tomorrow looking like you went on a psychic trip or anything." He chuckled and walked her out.
He locked up the welcome center and turned toward the monument. Like the night before, it floated on a bed of starlight. He stepped inside the fence and made his way around to the avenue. Standing in the middle of the avenue, he felt both pleased and displeased. There was definitely a sense of spirituality here, yet it didn't focus on anything. Like his thoughts had been recently, the feeling he got was of restlessness, of unguided energy desperately seeking a route to take. He shook his head finally, deciding the feeling came from inside of him, not from the ancient beings that had built the monument.
He advanced toward the great stones, pausing to contemplate the heel stone, but nothing came to mind. The slaughter stone, although the name had always creeped him out a bit, brought him no visions or emotions, either. He sat cross-legged in the middle of the inner horseshoe. It was quiet and peaceful. The stars above seemed so close here, as if he could reach out and touch them. The restless energy circled around him, leaving him feeling frustrated.
"All right, Stonehenge," he said in a low voice that was both confessional and arbitrating, "let's have a talk." He felt silly, talking to ancient rocks like this, but there was nobody else he could confide in.
"I have felt something important about you for so many years," he began, keeping his voice low. "And last night, when that bright light flashed by, I knew it had to be related somehow. What do you want, Stonehenge? You summoned; I came. What do you want with me?"
Nothing happened. Bryce sighed. What was he doing here?
"It's the centaurs, isn't it?" he murmured aloud. "They're coming back, aren't they?" He snorted. He hadn't told Grandpa about it because he didn't want him getting excited about it. The man had said nothing about it for years, and Bryce hoped that he'd forgotten it. One member of their family obsessed with centaurs was enough; the obsession didn't have the right to claim them both. It's what he'd wished on the meteor the night before: that he'd get to see them. "How do they have anything to do with you?" he asked the rocks.
After sitting there for a while, saying nothing, just wrestling with ill-formed thoughts in his head, he stood, frowning in thought. "Fine," he said to the monument, "keep your secrets." He turned to go, then stopped and turned back. "But I will find out, sooner or later." He turned and walked back to his bicycle, putting the torch in his inner jacket pocket.
He made it to his bicycle, donned his helmet, and rode towards home. As he neared the hill where he'd gone skidding the night before, he brought his bicycle to a stop, leaving its head lamp on. The dim light was quickly eaten up by the darkness. He reached into his jacket and took out the torch. It was very heavy, but it felt comforting in his hand. He fumbled with it and turned it on, groaning as the bright light hit him full in the face. "Ack!" he groaned aloud and shook his head to clear it, beaming the light out across the countryside. I ought to be doing this during the day, he thought, but what the hell.
He focused the beam of the torch into a tight, bright circle and played it across the ground. There was nothing there. He looked out as far as the beam would go, a sizable distance, and still nothing. He turned to his left and repeated the exercise. Nothing. He glanced over his shoulder. Yes, this is where he'd come through. He stepped to his right, looking for where he'd skidded. He found some torn grass and followed the trail.
He froze.
There in the spot of his light was a large animal, lying on its side. His light shone on the legs of the animal, four in number, and black, with shiny black hooves. Playing the light further up, he found a black tail attached to the black body of a horse. His hand shook. The hair on the front of the animal grew sparse and coarse and then vanished altogether, revealing tan-colored skin. Bryce's eyes widened, and his breath stuck in his chest. As he stared, stupefied, Anul'thek raised his upper body off the ground to look at him.
Bryce hit the ground, out cold, the torch falling from his fingers to shine through the grass.
"I–uh...what?" Anul'thek asked helplessly to no one.
Chapter 10
Problem: I now have a human that might be dead—but probably isn't—lying here next to me.
Problem: I need to get out of sight before anyone else sees me.
Problem: The only enclosed area I know of that will fit both of us is this human's dwelling.
Problem: That dwelling has another human inside of it'
Problem: If I take this human there, the other human might think I hurt him.
Problem: That would be counterproductive to my purpose here.
That is a lot of problems, Anul'thek thought to himself.
"Ing'ma? I've got problems," Anul'thek messaged to his mentor.
"I can see that," Ing'ma said, a strange sort of wry gravity to his tone.
"What do I do?"
"Take him home," Ing'ma replied simply.
"What if Grandpa thinks I hurt him?"
"That's a risk we'll have to take. Take him home, drop him off, knock on the door, and then hide. Wait for him to come to. We'll have to see what happens from there, what he says, and how Grandpa reacts."
"Understood."
Anul'thek laid the limp human stomach-down across his back, and then took up the light, examined it, and pressed a button. The light turned off. How handy, he thought. He picked up the machine the human had been riding with one hand and took it with him as he took off at a gallop across the shire under cover of darkness. His eyes had long ago adjusted, and it was easy for him to quickly pick his way back to the human's domicile. He put the machine down and laid the human carefully by the door, putting the light-club in the human's hand and knocking at the door. He ducked around the side of the building as Grandpa came to the door.
Grandpa gasped and rushed to cradle his grandson's head. He felt for a pulse and for breathing. "Bryce!" he shouted. "Bryce! Wake up!"
The boy stirred and looked up into the face of his grandfather. His eyes went wide, and he fumbled all around, babbling incoherently.
"Bryce–Bryce! It's okay, son. Can you stand?"
Bryce's babbling continued a moment more and then subsided. He nodded uncertainly.
"Come on. Let's get you inside." He helped Bryce up and plopped him do
wn at the dining room table, then ran for a glass of water, which Bryce sipped slowly. At length, his grandfather sat down next to him with a mug of ale. He took a long swig, then looked at his grandson expectantly. "All right, what's going on?"
Bryce fumbled for words. "Grandpa, centaur, I saw–"
Grandpa exhaled abruptly into his mug, spewing ale in front of him. "Centaurs?" His attention was keenly piqued.