Planets Falling

by James G. Scotson

  I wonder why Fromer's here and why he's suddenly decided to make himself visible. I'm also perplexed and frankly annoyed that he's not appeared before me. Given what's happened, he has some explaining to do. He didn't warn me about Thresh. And I wonder what other dangers await us.

  Bets pulls out a flask of grape wine and passes it around. "The villagers make this from grapes grown along the coast. It's good. I propose a toast to our recent adversary - the black demon of the woods."

  "How certain are we that this thing is bad?" I ask.

  "Marksman, how often has anything we've encountered been good so far?" Bets responds. "Safer for us to assume the worst. As for hoping for something better, I've given up on hope."

  Samuel drains the bottle. "Amy, I've got to agree with Bets on this one. We need to be cautious. I'll take first watch." He glances at English. "I'll rouse the lush later tonight."

  I'm not particularly worried about Fromer's safety, but just in case I say, "You'll be sure to not fire on the stranger unless he's dangerous?"

  Bets looks at me curiously. "Why're you so concerned about the safety of a prowler?"

  "Just want to be sure we don't hurt some curious villager. They've been mighty generous. And, I don't know about the rest of you, but I've had enough of death."

  "I'll be careful, Amy. Quit worrying and get to sleep." Samuel wraps himself in a blanket and flips off the safety of a short range firearm that Troll called a pulse shotgun - a weapon with no mercy. It hums as it powers up.

  Morning arrives with no further sightings of Fromer or his twin. We pack up and begin moving slowly along the coastal plain, tracking back frequently to hide our trail. My leg's tight and throbbing, but the pain's dulled. The infection is no worse but neither is it receding. I'm running a slight fever and my mouth's dry sand. Midday, we stop at a new camp, overlooking a deep river valley. We'll have to find a way across the water tomorrow. If it was spring, the gorge would be swollen with snow melt from the mountains. This time of year, we should be able to find a shallow riffle.

  English returns from hunting, uncharacteristically out of breath. "Well, I'll be damned. Samuel was right. I was tracking a doe when I felt something tracking me. I tried acting coy - you know, like I wasn't privy to my tracker. It kept following me and I ditched it behind a thicket. Got a good gander at it. Big, black. Head like a bug." He shakes his head and gulps something that looks like lamp oil. "It looked around and I swear it saw me through the briars. It smiled, pressed a button on its sleeve, and shot straight up in the trees. Scared the crap outta me and I ran right back here."

  "Thresh? You think she's got something to do with this?" Bets throws her knife at a tree.

  "Don't think so." Theo pulls out his tablet and examines the area. "I don't see anyone but us on this thing. Dunno how far it can see, though."

  The magpie returns, landing on Phineus' back. I'm the only one that seems to notice. I close my eyes and I'm suddenly looking back at myself from the vantage of my horse. My body's slumped on a blanket. Theo's nudging me. "Amy, what's the matter? Wake up."

  I fly the magpie around my body and Theo nods his head in understanding. "Why, hello Amy. I suggest you fly around and let us know whether you see our guest."

  Flying is exhilarating and so natural. I gain altitude and use my heightened magpie senses to search for a giant black beast named Fromer. Not far from our camp, I spot a thick, glowing, steel-black creature sitting in a patch of grass, leaning against a tree stump. He's munching on something in a silver pack. He looks like Fromer, but is clearly different in stature. His skin is darker and his head's completely bald. I land the bird on a nearby branch and examine his face and clothing. Fromer's face had familar, human-like qualities. This creature is more insect-like, although not at all frightening. He's wearing clothes that look much like Bets' hunting garb, except it is fashioned from some exotic leather, with metal buttons. He seems happy in a buggy sort of way.

  He looks right at me. In a raspy, deep voice, he says, "Hello bird, or should I say, fellow traveler."

  I wonder whether he's lonesome and taken to talking to animals or whether I've been found out. He then appears in the void of my mind - the same place that Thresh and I quarreled what seems like years ago.

  "I am called Etch. Who are you?"

  "Where's Fromer?" I ask.

  The creature’s silent for what seems to be a lifetime. "Excuse me? Did you say Fromer?"

  "Yes, I did. I assume you know who he is. You seem related."

  "Well, I will be ever surprised. This cannot be a coincidence. Fromer is a very old friend. He seems to have been busy. It is time for me to visit you and your companions. We have important business."

  “Before I lead you back to camp, I’d like some answers.”

  “I can answer all your questions in time. What’s your name?”

  I hesitate. “Amy Marksman.”

  “Well, Amy Marskman. I am like you. I can see things that elude others. I can read minds occasionally. And I have the ability to pilot star ships.”

  Beautiful blue, white, and yellow stars fill my mind and I know I can trust this creature.

  I'm back in the magpie, flitting from tree to tree, and Etch follows me toward our camp. He moves effortlessly across the terrain, as if he would float away if he leapt higher. I'm back at camp in no time, with Etch a few minutes behind. I reluctantly retake my body. The pain's worsening and the swelling has risen in my leg. I sit up to everyone's surprise. "Listen to me. The creature's coming. Don't be alarmed and whatever you do, don't fire." I give Bets a stern look.

  Etch appears at the edge of camp, with Samuel and Bets swinging around and pointing their weapons. A shot fires from English's rifle, as I try to stand and block him. My leg gives out and I fall forward. Strangely, Etch seems unharmed, sparks swirling before his chest. He's holding a strange, glowing, staff-like weapon with a humming blade on its end. In his thick, throaty drawl, he says, "What kind of greeting is that, my friends?"

  Theo dashes in front of English. "What the hell are you doing? Control yourself."

  "Sorry 'bout that, Theo." English lowers his gun. "We're all a little jumpy round here. Lucky I'm a shitty shot."

  "You're shot found its mark." The sparks fade around Etch as he brushes ash from his chest. "I have special armor that stops projectiles most of the time. If you had chosen the plasma rifle, I would be compromised. What is your name, man?" He stares at English.

  "English. And who might you be?"

  Etch introduces himself, pulling a chunk of jerky-like food out of a patch. His staff folds in on itself and he tucks it into his belt. "I hope that you do not mind that I eat. Running through the woods and ducking gunfire make me hungry. I am, as you might expect, an alien to your world.”

  “Well, that’s pretty obvious,” Bets remarks. “You’re not the first weird thing we’ve seen, including the aliens or whatever they were that killed our family and friends. Convince us not to kill you.”

  "Well, thank you for that welcome, young woman. I doubt that you would be able to dispatch me if you tried. He pats the weapon on his belt. It is most unfortunate what is happening to your towns and loved ones. This is not our fault, although we might be able to provide assistance. Your companion, Amy Marksman, may hold a key to our shared dilemma. And we may be able to recover the child from the wayward telepath named Thresh."

  Bets responds. "You speak as if there are more of you. How many friends do you have? And why are you here?"

  "We are exiles on earth. I am the pilot of a space vessel called the Fuerst. My companions are human, with the exception of one. You can meet them at our camp, where we can repair Amy's leg. We should travel quickly and with stealth on our side."

  Chapter 53 – Return of the Fuerst

  We follow Etch’s sleek, massive body moving expertly through the thick brush. The valley is oppressive, the air’s soaked with moisture, and I’m seeing creatures I’ve never encountered before – colorful snakes, enormous winged
insects, and hundreds of unique, flamboyant birds. The more Etch moves, the better he smells – a mixture of lemon zest and mint.

  Our party struggles up the other side of the gorge, following an invisible path through vines and around massive tree trunks. The cart becomes mired in deep mud and after a struggle, we abandon it. Etch assures us that his camp will provide all the amenities and comforts we need. We tear the cart apart and hide the pieces the best we can. English makes certain to stash as much shine as possible in his pack. I see Theo doing the same with pouches of tobacco.

  We crest the other side and face a vast forest sloping toward a faint ribbon of blue – the ocean. Etch stops. “The camp lies at the end of the forest by the sea. We have another day’s ride.”

  Theo pulls out his tablet and the image of the woods bursts forth. The blue dot marking the vessel that Troll showed us is blinking. Clearly, we have found the people we were searching for.

  Etch eyes the tablet. “That’s a nice antique Theo. I have a companion who will love to examine that. It has historical significance.”

  Clouds form and a drizzle greets us. Samuel grumbles, “Better be dry where we’re going Etch.”

  “Samuel, we have a nice dry cot waiting for you.” Etch chuckles.

  “That’d be nice.”

  Theo turns Silius around, looking north across the gorge. “Oh my earth,” he mutters. A thin column of inky smoke streams from the distant horizon. “Do you think Thresh found the village?”

  Bets grunts. “Everything we touch goes to shit. Why’d you expect those poor people to go unscathed by us?”

  “Worse for us, that means Thresh is on our trail,” English says.

  “We must move swiftly. We will be safe near my vessel.” Etch motions for us to go forward.

  My leg’s numb, which worries me worse than the former pain. More disconcerting is the lack of emotion I’m feeling about everything. Thresh is probably destroying that wonderful town and has my daughter, who may be witnessing the carnage. But my soul’s as unresponsive as my leg.

  The day’s a blur to me. I have a wicked fever and find myself phasing in and out of the magpie, my faithful companion since we were at the village. I try to draw strength from somewhere deep inside myself, but there’s nothing there.

  Light wanes. However, we approach a white light, similar to noon-day sun, shimmering through the tree line. “We are here,” Etch announces. “There is a protective field around our encampment. I will deactivate it. Follow me through the gap. Do not deviate from the path or you will regret it.”

  We follow him in a single line into the trees. Blinding light sears my eyes. The roar of crashing waves nearly knocks me off Phineus. I’ve never been to the ocean and the sensation is glorious. All the pain and worry well up from some kernel deep inside me and I sob uncontrollably. Out of the bright light and salty air appear two impossibly handsome people – a man and a woman dressed in strange, green clothes. They help me off of Phineus and the man touches my bare shoulder with a strange metallic object. I drift into a delicious sleep.

  “Hello, Amy. You made it.” Dream Fromer's sitting in the sand next to me. His boots are off and I see his strangely human feet, toes wiggling. My emotions are now completely unimpaired. “Fromer, I demand that you tell me where you took Wenn and father. And how do I get Eliza back?”

  “Foremost, about your little girl, I’m sorry that she’s in the hands of Thresh. You and Eliza will be reunited in time. That’s all I can tell you for now. As for Wenn and your father, I was responsible for their departure before the fall of your village. If they’d stayed, they both would have died. They are far away on the other side of the mountains, but safe for now.”

  “I hate you. You’ve destroyed my life and dragged all these poor people in with me.”

  “Amy, do you really hate me? You’re looking for an outlet for your anger. Thresh and her allies are to blame for this. I’m here to help the best I can. Let me try to explain what’s going on. Please walk with me.”

  I walk effortlessly in this dreamscape, marveling at my surroundings. The waves wash on the beach, white foam curling in emerald pitch. We turn away from the water and there she is, the Fuerst. It stretches into the distance, its black surface gleaming in the moonlight. It looks a little like the shiny carts we saw in Troll’s compound, with a large window in the front and thin wings extending along its sides. Along its belly are large cylinders arranged in neat, concise rows. A pipe with stair steps hangs underneath the ship’s right wing.

  Fromer puts his thick hand on my dream shoulder. “What do you think of Etch’s vessel? Etch and I have long been friends. I used to command the crew of this ship when I was young. It’s difficult to explain how this ship travels through space. But it can allow us to travel between here and almost any of those stars.”

  “The moon as well?” I ask.

  “Of course we could.” He smiles sadly. “Although we might not want to go there right now.”

  “Why’d the lights go out – on the moon?”

  “A war has broken out in space, including the moon. The people living there have abandoned the surface, for now. I’m afraid the fighting will spread to here soon.”

  “What’s the fighting over?”

  “What are all wars fought over? Resources, power, access. There are two factions, who you will unfortunately meet in time. One government, now called the Institute, has been in power for more than a thousand years and was responsible for the exile of your people on earth. The other is a group of folks called the FRT that want to bring down the Institute and impose their own rule on space. The FRT has long been my nemesis.” He growls. “The only thing protecting earth and your people from both of them is fear of a contagion that may have winked out a thousand years ago.”

  “Troll told us that some bad people, terrorists, released something that destroyed most of the machines.”

  “Yes, Amy. The circumstances are murky at best. Some people released a horrible substance on earth that did not kill other people. Rather, it killed the technology on which they depended – a clever ploy that was far more damaging than any could ever imagine. Maybe the terrorists wanted earth to return to a simpler condition. Whatever their motive, the weapon consumed communications and power networks on the planet. It worked like the infection in your leg, spreading quickly. The rest of the humans and other creatures, including my species, in space decided it would be much too dangerous to allow anything from the surface back into space. So, the entire planet and its survivors, including your ancestors, were quarantined indefinitely.”

  “Does this infection remain?”

  “That’s a good question. It hasn’t affected this ship or the various gadgets that Etch and his companions have been using, thankfully. They wouldn’t last a week without their technology.” He laughs. “Troll scanned you and your friends when you descended into its compound. The only reason Troll allowed you in was because you were not contaminated. I’d guess the weapon, whatever it is, still exists dormant on the planet. But where and to what extent – that’s an unanswered question.”

  “Why do people want to come back here to earth?”

  “Some of the reasons are mundane – recolonization, development, and exploitation of the planet’s considerable resources. However, there are a few people out there that have discovered a miracle here on the surface. Would you like to climb into the Fuerst to see more?”

  “Sure, but what has it to do with the miracle?”

  “Let’s see.” He leads me up the steps into the ship. It’s dimly lit and cramped. Padded, black benches line the walls. We walk forward through a small doorway into a large room with a single seat. The beach and waves are visible through the window in the front. “How does this room make you feel, Amy?”

  “Strangely familiar. Comfortable.” The room allows me to feel a connection with many other beings like me, far beyond this world. We’re all looking at the stars, but from behind them. It is an odd sensation that’s impossi
ble to understand. Yet, it seems natural to me.

  “Amy, you’re among a very rare group of beings in the universe. We call them pilots. Etch is one. With the proper training, pilots are able to navigate these ships through the unimaginable emptiness of space. Unfortunately, Thresh is also among your kind. This room is a pilot house. It works to magnify your ability and to navigate the ship.”

  He jumps in the seat. “The technology the pilots use takes advantage of your ability to see things that most of us can’t see or experience. Some call it telepathy. It’s really just a way of perceiving the energy that’s created by life. Thinking and feeling are just other forms of energy and you can harness them. I don’t expect you to understand all of this, although with time, you will.”

  I’m confused. “So, what does this have to do with the miracle here on earth?”

  “Across the mountains is a place where the heat contained inside the earth bubbles up toward the surface. It acts like a magnifying glass for tiny organisms that live there. They naturally do what this ship does – provide a way to travel long distances by opening a hole in the universe. In it, you can see all of creation and travel among the planets, stars, and perhaps other places as well. But there’s a catch. Someone with a natural connection to the earth and the innate skills of a pilot needs to be there to control access to the portal or doorway that they create.”

  “So, Mister Fromer, you’re telling me that I’m that person?”

  “You or Thresh. There may be others, but I don’t know who they are. If Thresh reaches the portal and learns how to control it, this wouldn’t bode well for earth or for the worlds beyond it.”

  I think of Flip. He’d never have been able to handle the job. Now Fromer, the god or alien, has dumped the responsibility of protecting earth and other worlds on my shoulders. The responsibility of tending the garden overwhelmed me. I hope the infection in my leg kills me so that I don’t have to face this anymore. And I wonder what this means for Eliza. Will she have to inherit the burden from me someday?