Planets Falling

by James G. Scotson

  "Thresh used the fog to raise the dead. They're acting as scouts for her. They'll find this camp in a matter of days. And, although your fence is impressive, something tells me it'll be no match to the fog and her grubs. They’ll break through and kill you all."

  Gorian's silent, obviously spooked by what I've just said. She holds her chin and looks out the window, the light shining on her pale hair. She muses, "Perhaps there's something here on the planet that's acting like a transmission network for telepaths. I wonder…" She claps excitedly and runs out the door.

  I shuffle out of the door after her into the blazing glare of full sunlight. Etch's sitting on the edge of a table talking with a grey, slick creature with bulging eyes and webbed hands. It’s dressed in the same green material that Gorian and Grey are wearing. Three smaller, unclothed versions of the creature are playing in a puddle in the shade of a nearby building. Etch turns toward me. "Amy, good morning. This is Iggy. He returned last night, with his children. Are they not adorable?" He laughs and puts his hand on the nauron's shoulder.

  The being extends its hand to me. I shake it, discovering that the extremity is cool and indeed slimy. A strange voice, similar to Troll's, says, "Glad to meet you Amy. I apologize for having to use this device to speak. My language's very different than yours and I need it for you to understand me."

  "That voice - it's yours, not a machine?"

  Etch responds. "Iggy, Amy had an unfortunate experience with an early model of a human machine interface. She is not used to artificial voices."

  Iggy smiles, showing his toothless jaws. His eyelids droop, slowly lubing his eyes. "Yes, I'm quite organic. As you can see, there are more of me now. They will be unable to speak for quite some time, until they mature. At that time, we will teach them to use transmitters as well."

  "What in the hell is going on here? What are those things splashing in the puddle?" Bets steps out of her cabin, scratching her head. Theo and Samuel follow. They’re equally perplexed.

  "Meet Iggy," I say.

  "And his children," Etch adds.

  "Where are English and Minns?" Grey appears with a platter of steaming cakes. "Breakfast will get cold."

  Samuel snorts. "They was drinking brandy until the wee hours. Won't see them 'til noonday."

  Grey’s face droops. He’s genuinely disappointed.

  While the group eats, I explain my dream. They seem to believe me, unlike Gorian. Even Grey barely touches his food while I recount the gruesome images.

  Theo's clearly angry. "What's that woman doing to poor Liza? Can we take this ship and kill Thresh and rescue that poor girl?"

  Etch responds. "We do not understand the organic matrix - the fog - well enough to know whether we can defend the Fuerst from the beings you call grubs."

  “But, I thought you said Grey’s dad invented it?” Bets asks.

  Grey swallows a bite of egg. “When he released the substance on C9, he didn’t leave us any records of it. We didn’t have enough time to get a sample before Melat took the planet with her.”

  "Well, we'd better learn quickly how the fog works given that several hundred rotting dead people are lumbering toward us," I say too loudly, my voice cracking.

  Grey looks at me with concern. "Amy, would you like to see my garden while we all think about our next steps?"

  I know Grey's trying to calm me down and to keep me from agitating the others. "Yes, Grey."

  "Great Amy. I say we all reconvene here at lunch and decide what to do next. If anyone sees Gorian, please let her know what's going on."

  "She already does," I murmur.

  Grey and I walk up a worn path into the uplands overlooking the ocean. We enter a large field full of strange plants that I'd never seen before. The soil here's all wrong for the area. I kneel down and crumble it between my fingers. Rather than dry sand, it's rich, loamy, and full of moisture. "How'd you do this?"

  "In my previous life, before we went into hiding, I was a kind of farmer called a terraformer. My job was to cultivate planets to make them suitable for people. With the right tools, I can reconfigure the plant life to increase its productivity. That's what I've done here with the crude tools on the Fuerst and with Gorian's engineering skills."

  "Grey, I barely understand what you're saying. But what I'm seeing before me is an abomination to earth."

  “What?”

  “Cultivating is about working with the earth to make food. What you’re doing is completely trampling it to meet your selfish needs. It’s no wonder your kind was exiled from the planet. Is anything here natural, of this earth?”

  Grey’s crestfallen. “Why, yes. Many of the plants here were cultivated on earth before the end of our era.” We walk over to a small stand of plants that look like maize. However, the stalks are small, slightly luminescent, and loaded with ears of purple kernels.

  “Grey, is this supposed to be corn? Nothing about it is like the varieties I grow.”

  “Well, we’ve engineered it using genes from several planets. A single one of these stalks provides enough raw materials to feed three of us for a week. Can you do that with your garden? Speaking of which, the corn you grow comes from a weed that was cultivated thousands of years ago and has no semblance of its original self. It’s as alien to earth as my plants.”

  “What about this?” I’m carefully holding a plant that resembles a furry toad.

  Grey produces a knife and splits it open. The smell of shine nearly knocks me back. “This plant produces alcohol, a key ingredient for a lot of the polymers we need to fabricate and repair our tools. Pretty cool, eh?”

  “Again, Grey, I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. This plant seems to make a strong drink – something English would like. Does this come from earth?”

  “Oh no. This originated on Etch’s planet, zenat. We’ve modified it to accept the different wavelengths of the earth’s sunlight. On zenat, it would be blue, not green.”

  “So, you’re telling me that you’ve brought a completely alien plant – species, I think they’re called by your kind – to earth. Seems to me that this may upset the balance of things. It’s no different than the brown fog to me. Nothing good can come from it. It'll spread and destroy earth life.”

  “Oh Amy. You needn’t worry about escape. We’ve the technology to keep things under control. I think it’s wrong for you to compare us to the creatures trying to dominate earth from the portal.”

  “Say what you want, but I disagree. You can learn much from me about how to harness the natural power of this world. You don’t need to use alien wares to suit your needs.”

  Grey’s frustrated. “Well, we depend on it now. I’d like to see your garden someday. I’m sure you can teach me many things.”

  “I doubt Thresh left any of my garden for us to visit.” The thought of home makes me sick and forlorn.

  Grey gingerly puts his hand on my shoulder and I pat it. We spend the rest of the morning sauntering about Grey’s garden. I worry that I’ve been too hard on him. I do find the many plants he shows me fascinating. He knows so much about other worlds and so little about earth, the home of his ancestors. Perhaps, when all of this is over, I can teach him how to appreciate his home.

  We rejoin the others at lunch. Iggy’s offspring are in the ocean grazing for food while Iggy sits at a table spraying itself with seawater. Gorian’s returned, talking with Minns and Etch animatedly. Bets sharpens her sword while Samuel sips on a glass of cider. English naps under a small tree, snoring softly.

  Gorian pulls out a tablet similar to the one that Theo lifted from Troll’s compound. She hits a button and the image of another ship like the Fuerst appears in mid-air, except it is black as pitch. “I think I may know where the Raven, Melat’s ship, is. It’s right here on earth.”

  She’s met by silence from all of us except English, who’s risen from his self-imposed unconsciousness. “How can that thing that smashed a planet still be around?”

  Etch answers. “The Raven was not destroy
ed. It is difficult to explain. When it began to travel through space, it dragged the planet C9 with it. The ship survived but the planet, of course, did not. Think of our space vessels as drills that tunnel through space from one side to another. The planet tried to follow through the hole, but was too large and broke into pieces.”

  Gorian’s clearly excited and seems about to burst. “I have no idea how the Raven got here on earth but it’s likely responsible for the activity we’re seeing.”

  “What about Melat?” Grey asks.

  “I would have sensed her presence while in the pilot house of the Fuerst. Any time a pilot is in their ship, it transmits their location to other pilots. This is an essential navigation tool, keeping us from crashing into each other.” Etch is perplexed.

  Iggy’s tinny, mechanical voice asks the question we’re all pondering. “Gorian, where’s the Raven located relative us?”

  “Within shuttle range in the foothills of the mountains, due east of here. We can get there in less than an hour flying at normal velocity.”

  Grey strokes the back of his neck. “Whoa, we need to pause here and think about the dangers. What if Melat is still there in the ship? She can direct her weapons at the shuttle.”

  “Iggy’s the best shuttle driver we know. He can evade any fire. Also, we can stay out of range of the vessel until were sure it’s safe to investigate. My sensors suggest the Raven is disabled and likely not a threat.” Gorian’s already packing her bag.

  Anger wells up inside me. “Are we losing our focus here? We need to find the portal and stop it, not look for your long lost pilot friend.”

  Etch pounds his fist. “She is no longer my friend. She betrayed all of us.”

  “I have a hypothesis,” Gorian says. “The Raven is not completely powered down. I’m wondering whether it might be acting as an amplifier for you pilot-types out there. This may be fueling Thresh’s killing spree and allowing you to travel in your sleep. If we shut it down, then Thresh and her monsters might go away.” She smiles hopefully.

  “Then, by all means, we leave now,” I say, heading to my room to gather my things.

  Grey stands up. “No way are you going Amy. You’re our only asset.”

  “Hell to you Grey. I’m going or I’m walking toward the dead people to get my daughter back.”

  We’ve decided that Gorian, Iggy, English, Bets, and Theo will fly with me in the shuttle. Etch, Samuel, Grey, Minns, and the children of Iggy will remain at camp to await our return and look out for shuffling dead people.

  The shuttle’s tucked in the rear of the Fuerst, looking a lot like the winged boxes I saw crashing into buildings in Troll’s moving pictures of the great fall. This memory gives me pause as I walk into its gaping door. Could it be possible that Iggy will lose control of the machine to the Trolls out there?

  The interior of the shuttle is dark, illuminated by blue, green, red, and yellow lights. We’re cramped in the back while Iggy and Gorian sit in chairs in the front, pressing buttons and murmuring to each other. I freeze at the voice in the space. “Please prepare for departure. Stay seated.” It sounds identical to Troll.

  “We need to leave,” I shout. English and Bets react similarly, jumping and standing at the door.

  Theo laughs. “Calm down you three. This isn’t Troll, is it Gorian?”

  “If you mean the HM interface you encountered at the munitions storage, nope. This is just the HM for the shuttle. It must have a similar voice synthesizer.”

  “Thank the gods,” Bets sighs sitting down.

  The shuttle floats out of the Fuerst and ascends into the sky. I feel the same lightness I did soaring in the magpie. Theo, Bets, and English stare out of the portholes in amazement. For a moment, a glimpse of a young girl passes Bets’ face. It suits her.

  The ocean is so impossibly large from this vantage. Crests of waves wink at me. The water knows whom I am and what I need to do. Iggy banks the shuttle and the ocean recedes as the mountains beckon in the distance. The cabin’s silent, with the exception of an occasional wet sneeze from Iggy.

  “Catch a cold in the ocean?” Gorian hands him a wipe.

  “I seem to have contracted a virus. Perhaps it was the stress of reproducing. I’ll revive soon, although a good torpor would do me good.”

  Gorian laughs. The rest of us haven’t a clue what the frog man or woman is talking about. Gorian catches her breath and says, “So, my friends, I have some things to tell you about Melat before we approach the Raven, if it is really there. First, Melat was one of the best pilots I’ve known. She changed after we had an accident dropping from one location of space to another. We think she was influenced by the powers in the government to abort our mission. Or something unknown got to her in infraspace. Regardless, she found out about the portal on Planet C9 and she blew it up. We barely escaped. Oh, infraspace is the place in between space and time. It’s impossible to explain without math.”

  Bets makes the connection, even given Gorian’s gobblygook language. “Should we be concerned that this Melat woman is here to do the same thing to earth, drag it into that infra … space, portal and all?”

  Iggy wheezes. “Perceptive Bets. This thought has crossed our minds. Of course, Etch could not sense her, so perhaps she’s dead or incapacitated. It’s better for us to assume she’s alive, just in case.”

  “Great news.” Theo’s flushed. “We’ve got Thresh sending dead ones to us and killing innocents and now you tell us we got to deal with doomsday? We had peaceful lives and now all this. You’re all bringing the horrors of the ancient ones with you.”

  Gorian shrugs. “Seems to be the way of things, don’t you think? Didn’t you want things to be better? Not get sick so much? Have more comfort? Keep a constant supply of your beloved tobacco? Keep your loved ones around longer? That’s what makes all this happen. People want more and more. And it just gets more complicated.”

  English is strangely sober. “The portal. It’s a test for us, isn’t it?”

  “Who’s giving the test?” Iggy asks in his machine voice.

  “I dunno. Like, a temptation to us. We need to decide what we want to use that portal for.”

  Gorian turns in her chair. "Are you suggesting that someone has a plan for us? Like a god?"

  English responds, "Sure. Don't ya believe in gods? There's more to all this, do you not think?"

  "Oh English. We've seen things that we can't explain. But that doesn't mean there's no explanation. I don't believe that any of this is predetermined. And no, there are no gods. Only other beings like us."

  English retreats to silence and stares out the window.

  Theo plops down next to me. "How's it going Sprouter?"

  "We were living a simple life and then - all this. I want my family back Theo."

  "We'll get them back. I miss them too."

  He touches my hand and Bets glares.

  "What if we don't?"

  "Then I'll always be with you." Theo gazes a bit too long at me - I feel a warmth in my gut that I can't suppress. I pull my hand away.

  "We're approaching. Iggy slow it down and descend." Gorian dims the lights in the cabin, while the shuttle hums lightly. She turns to us. "That sound's coming from a protective field. If the Raven's passively listening for us, then it won't detect us."

  Iggy clarifies, "It'll make us invisible to Melat. We hope."

  The shuttle gently glides into a thick forest of pine trees. Iggy expertly weaves it in between the boughs. I can sense the age of the forest and the creatures inhabiting it. I expect to see the green ones hanging from the limbs, waving at me. The shuttle slows to a crawl and sinks into a glade of thick weeds. The landing’s so soft that I don’t notice it.

  "The Raven's about a thousand meters straight ahead through this meadow," Gorian announces. "We need to weapon up." She and Iggy pull out a series of shelves brimming with guns and other implements. Iggy hands each of us a light blue gun with a short barrel.

  "This looks like a toy. I like the
colors." Bets points it toward the front of the vessel.

  Iggy jumps and forces the barrel down. "Careful. This thing can destroy the helm. There'd be no way for us to get back without it."

  We gather outside the shuttle, where Gorian stands holding what looks like a dragonfly in her hand. A closer look reveals that the object in her palm's a machine. It leaps out of her hand and hovers above us. "Do you like my little drone? It'll give us a look ahead." Gorian adorns a pair of odd-looking glasses. "These let me see through its eyes."

  "I can do that with magpies," I mutter.

  As we struggle through the dry grass, I notice that the air's strangely still and cold, even for this time of year at this elevation. I can tell Bets feels the same way - she's alert, looking intently into the dead vegetation. She's expecting something to jump out, like a mountain lion or perhaps a grub. Gorian seems less concerned, paying more attention to the view in her glasses than the immediate dangers lurking in the brush.

  "We're approaching a ridge," Gorian says. Within moments, the ground drops off and we're facing a vast open space with the mountains impossibly close. At the bottom of the valley is the queerest thing I've seen yet. Even Iggy gasps in his alien voice. The same ship we saw emerge from Gorian's tablet earlier is lying in the trickle of a wide stream bed. It’s impossibly large and dark as night. And only half of it is there.

  "What the-" Gorian exclaims. A flash of bright light, like lightning, but green rather than blue-white, assaults us.

  The area where the back of the ship should be is hazy and crackling. Flashes of emerald light spark from nowhere. The stream disappears into the haze and doesn't reemerge- the bed is completely dry downstream of the ship.

  Gorian whistles. “Wow, something bad happened. Let’s shimmy down and get a closer look.”

  Bets, English, and I exchange worried glances but we follow Gorian and Iggy down a small gulley into the valley. As we approach the bottom, I'm overwhelmed by a smell that reminds me of the air after a huge thunderstorm. The hairs on my arms tingle- all my instincts tell me to flee.

  Gorian cautiously approaches the front of the Raven. She produces her tablet and begins gesturing wildly at it. In response, a crack opens on the bottom of the ship, and the air around us calms a bit. My anxiety has now turned to whatever may emerge from the vessel.