Rigel

by Eli Ingle

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “No problem,” Laurie replied, smiling easily. “I’d ask you to come inside – it’s very comfortable in there but I don’t think you’d like it at the moment. The bar was on fire last time I checked.” His voice rose to a shout again. “Say! How about we get some chairs out here?”

  “Sure thing, boss,” came a voice from within.

  A moment later two chairs were thrown unceremoniously from the ship onto the floor. Laurie set them upright and offered one to Rigel before taking the other. Laurie tapped the edges of his chair, appearing preoccupied.

  “Have to do everything myself,” he muttered, climbing back into the ship.

  A moment later he returned with a tray. On it was a bottle of pale liquid and two tiny glasses. Pouring out the drink, he handed one to Rigel before sitting down again. Inside the ship, Rigel could see the silhouettes of people running backwards and forwards, swearing more often than not.

  “You don’t seem particularly bothered that your ship has crashed,” Rigel commented.

  “Ah, it’s mostly cosmetic damage,” replied Laurie, wafting a hand airily, although as he said this, steam ripped through the side of the ship. Rigel jumped backwards.

  “Don’t worry,” said Laurie, “it’s just the steam breaking from the boilers. Better than it building up, I suppose.”

  “What’s the steam for?” asked Rigel, curious.

  “To power the ship, obviously,” he said, as if Rigel were dense.

  “Surely you need petrol for that?”

  “What’s petrol?”

  “Fuel! How can you not know what petrol is?”

  “Well I don’t. Don’t use it. All our stuff uses steam for power.”

  They fell silent for several minutes. Laurie broke it.

  “So have you made up your mind yet?”

  “What about?”

  “Oh yes, forgot to mention that,” said Laurie, scratching his nose. “We’ve come to collect you and take you away … if you’re interested, I suppose.”

  “Take me where?”

  “To another world!” he said dramatically, waving his hands around to help emphasise the point. “To Kozenia!”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The effect was somewhat ruined when one of the other pilots came outside with a sink stuck over his head.

  “Having a few problems Captain,” he said, somewhat muffled by the sink.

  “Please excuse me,” said Laurie, standing up and following the other pilot inside. At the door he turned around. “Enjoy your drink. Please. It really is very good.”

  He left Rigel looking at the small drink in his hand. Rigel realised that it had turned pale blue. Raising it to his nose, he sniffed and felt a tingling sensation ripple through his nostrils. Shrugging his shoulders slightly, he tipped the glass and drank it all. An overwhelming taste of strawberries and warmth overtook him for a moment; then he swallowed the liquid and was left with a pleasant heat in his throat, feeling more revived than he had in years.

  More crashing and cursing came from inside but Rigel heard none of it; he was thinking about what Laurie had said to him.

  Was it really true? Could he leave here forever and go to a different world? Would he? Yes. In a heartbeat.

  But what if it wasn’t true? What if it was all a hoax, a dream, or an illusion? Could he be hallucinating? Perhaps he had collapsed from lack of food and was currently foaming on the kitchen lino. Perhaps … but he did not think so. Then why was he feeling doubtful about going? Maybe there was something else, something that was distracting him. Then he realised. Why him? Why had they picked him, to be precise? What was so special about him that a band of pilots in an airship would come to spirit him away to a different world? He was grubby, starving, parentless, tired, scared, and lonely, so why would they pick him? Surely some other child, one of the popular, toned ones that all the girls seemed to like would be a better choice? That way the child they picked would be reliable and stronger. It seemed that they should be looking for those qualities, and he had none of them – so why him?

  Feeling conflicted between wanting to go and doubtful that they had the right person, he sat back in his chair staring at his empty glass. Then he realised that Laurie had left the bottle. Removing the glass stopper, he poured out another measure. As it splashed against the bottom of the glass he noticed with a jolt that it turned a pale green. Deciding to drink it rather than think about it, he was surprised as the drink now tasted of cherries and was accompanied by a stinging icy sensation. Coughing loudly, he rolled about in his chair until the fit passed.

  Opening his eyes again he realised that Laurie was smiling down at him.

  “Interesting thing, isn’t it?” he commented, pointing at the bottle. “Different every time. No idea how they make it; just know it’s far too expensive. Anyway! Have you thought about the question?”

  Rigel paused carefully before answering. “I have,” he said.

  “Oh. You’re going to say no, aren’t you? I hate it when people say no! It’s so ungrateful!”

  “No, no!”

  “There you go –”

  “I mean yes! But I just wanted to ask something first!” interrupted Rigel.

  “Oh,” said Laurie, spinning around to face him again. “Go on then …”

  “Why me?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Why did you choose me?”

  “I didn’t choose you!” he laughed suddenly. “I’ve just come to pick you up.”

  “Oh.”

  “It’s still an important job!”

  “I didn’t say it wasn’t.”

  “Oh … okay then … but I still need an answer.”

  “I’ll go.” A sense of finality stole over him. What would lie ahead in the coming months? Would he regret this decision? He doubted it somehow … anything was better than here.

  “Excellent!” cried Laurie, clapping his hands together.

  “But how are we going to get there?” he asked.

  “Well, fly of course!”

  “But your ship is broken,” protested Rigel.

  “It’s fine.”

  A propeller fell off one of the engines.

  “It’s probably fine.”

  “It doesn’t look like it’s up to the job,” persisted Rigel.

  “It’s seventy per cent operational,” insisted Laurie.

  Another bang was heard from inside.

  “It’s sixty per cent operational,” he amended.

  “But will that be enough to fly with?” questioned Rigel.

  “Probably not.”

  “Well then.”

  “Spoil-sport.”

  “Would you rather fall into the ocean?” Rigel asked.

  “Depends on how exciting your undersea cities are. What’s the nightlife like there?”

  “We don’t have undersea cities.”

  “Really? How boring …” Laurie sounded disappointed.

  “Look, if you knew what my life was like around here you’d know how eager I am to leave, but we can’t! There’s nothing we can do about it until the ship is fixed so let’s just get on with that. Then we can go,” reasoned Rigel.

  “Fine,” Laurie said, sulking.

  “Anyway, what about that thing that was attacking you? Where’s it gone?”

  “Oh no!” Laurie cried, springing up suddenly and diving through the door. Rigel shook his head and leant back in his chair again.

  A moment later the man returned, bearing a pair of heavy brass binoculars, with a man and two women standing behind him. As they jumped down, Rigel was alarmed to see that they were heavily armed with rifles that would not have looked out of place in the seventeenth century.

  “Where are you going?” Rigel asked, standing up.

  “We’ve got to go and find that Fallen One,” said Laurie, sounding scared for the first time since he had met him.

  “What’s that?”r />
  “It … it doesn’t matter, alright? Just stay here and don’t go out from the light. There are a couple of guys still in there fixing the ship. Just … stay safe, okay?” Without another word he led the group out into the darkness, where Rigel soon lost sight of them.

  Sitting down again, he tried to work out what he had been talking about. What was a Fallen One? They all seemed very scared of it and they were adults. Shivering slightly, he peered around but found that the large spotlights blinded him to everything else.

  Time passed without incident but then he was alarmed to hear the cracks of rifles shooting in the woods behind him. He turned around, still unable to see.

  Shouts echoed, then cries for help. Screams, then silence. Rigel had stood up from his chair, sweating and with no idea what to do. Laurie had told him to stay safe but if they were being attacked out there then maybe he should do something. But what? He had no weapon and no idea what they were being attacked by.

  Soon he could bear it no longer and stepped out of the white light.

  The effect was instantaneous: his view of the world changed. The moon was three times its usual size and had a giant crack, nearly splitting it in half, down the middle. The sky was bathed in a red light. The grass was dead and black. Around him the trees were bare and twisted.

  Sprinting from the woods, the group of pilots were racing back towards the light. Behind them, walking slowly from out of the woods a creature pursued them. A mask hid its face and it was heavily cloaked. It carried a slender sword in one hand, the other swung around over its head, causing streams of black fire to engulf the woods, sending smoke billowing into the sky.

  The pilots thundered out of the way, running back towards the ship. Then they spotted Rigel standing there. They shouted to him, begging him to move, but he could not seem to; something about the whole scene had transfixed him, pinning him to the spot. Then the creature saw him. Its gazed pierced his heart and any desire to run vanished. He was filled with terrible dread and certainty that whatever that Fallen thing was, it was going to get him and that would be the end.

  Changing its course, the Fallen One walked slowly towards him instead of pursuing the pilots. Still they screamed and begged him to move. But he could not.

  “Kill it!” screamed Laurie. “Kill it, Rigel!”

  “How?” he asked dully.

  “Only you can!” Laurie replied, which, on the whole, Rigel did not consider to be a particularly useful answer.

  It was nearly upon him now. What should he do?

  But suddenly, he knew, remembered some long forgotten instinct, like flicking a switch, and he grinned. A feeling of immense heat built inside him and he felt light shine from his eyes. Bringing his right arm backwards, he swung it in a downward arc. From his fingertips a ball of white energy, pure and unforgiving, careered towards the Fallen One. The pilots’ shouts fell silent. The ball of energy streaked towards the creature, too fast to be avoided, and exploded on impact.

  The effect was immediate. The creature was ripped apart and the black smoke that streamed from it was absorbed in the ball. Curving around, the ball shot through the black flames, first turning them white and then extinguishing them all together.

  After that there was a flash of pure white light which blinded everyone.

  Then Rigel collapsed.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  He came to in a small room that must have been inside the airship, for it was furnished in a way that he had never seen anywhere else. But just as he began to take in the lamps on the wall, the leather chairs and the grand wallpaper, a sudden overwhelming fear gripped him. Bolting to his feet, he began shouting.

  “Hey!” said Laurie, pushing him down and trying to soothe him. “What’s wrong?”

  “Where is it? Where is that thing?” he cried, still scrabbling up.

  “Don’t worry, it’s gone. You got rid of it.”

  “What? How?”

  “For the same reason that we came to get you. That’s why we’re here.” When Rigel remained silent, he added, “Come and look outside.”

  Pulling him to his feet, he led him down chandeliered corridors until they arrived at the door again. It was no mean feat – the whole deck was still tilted at a drunken angle.

  Dropping outside, Rigel’s breath caught in his throat as he peered out at the field. The spotlights had been turned off now but although it was still night, the whole place was lit by a pearly glow. What had once been grass had been replaced by a blanket of white roses, wafting in the light breeze that sent rippling waves along the length of it. The trees were in full blossom, as if it were spring rather than autumn.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” commented Laurie from behind him.

  Rigel turned around, still too distracted to speak.

  “You did that, you know,” he continued when Rigel did not say anything. “That’s why we need you. If you can do that then maybe we don’t have to be so scared anymore.”

  “Scared of what?” Rigel asked.

  “Them. More of them. Worse than them.” Rigel felt an unpleasant sensation in his stomach. What could be worse than them? “War. Rigel, the place we’re from is on the brink of ruin. We’re doing everything we can but I think our home is not destined to have that name much longer. We’ve been searching for others like you but it isn’t going well. I’ll understand if you’re too scared to come, or you don’t want to leave everything here, but … well … we had to do everything to ask first.”

  So Rigel stood there and thought. Now he had come across that thing he had no idea what to do. Reservations that had not been there before were welling up in his mind, causing a barrier, and the pure unbelievability of the situation hit him. Surely this was not real? How could it be? He had gone through his whole life with adults telling him what to believe and what to do. Here were some obvious exceptions. Adults who came through the sky in an airship that looked like it belonged in a history book and ran around with rifles and drinks that changed colour. It did not add up. These people must be pretending. Lying – for what purpose he could not work out, but he was sure of it.

  But then he thought about his life. The hunger, the pain, the loneliness. What was there for him here? Even if he was dreaming it, why not go along? Surely it was better than here. Anything was better than here.

  It was obvious what the answer was.

  “I’ll go,” he said. Laurie visibly relaxed as he released his breath.

  “Excellent! Excellent!” cried Laurie. “Shall we get going right away or is there anything else you would like to attend to? Collecting some possessions? Clothes perhaps?”

  Rigel thought about it and was suddenly overcome with embarrassment at the idea of showing these people his clothes that were both filthy and threadbare.

  “Er, don’t really have any clothes,” he muttered.

  Laurie raised his eyebrows but said nothing other than “We’ll be able to fix you up with some there. Probably for the best, actually; the fashions of our different worlds do not seem to co-ordinate. Is there anything else you might want to bring?”

  Rigel was about to answer no when he suddenly remembered something. “Yes, there is! I’ll be right back.” The pilots nodded and he was sprinting halfway down the field when an awful premonition overcame him. “Wait a minute! Wait a minute! One of you come with me!”

  “What?!”

  “If I go down there, you’ll leave me!”

  “What?”

  “One of you come with me. That way you won’t go.”

  “We wouldn’t go anyway, but if you insist then I’ll come.”

  Laurie took his time coming down the hill but as he drew level with Rigel he changed his pace to a jog so they could get to the house quicker.

  Drawing up to the back door, Rigel was overcome with the feeling of unease again. He really did not want this fabulous man to see the state of his house. It was not his fault of course – who could blame a thirteen year old for b
eing unable to look after himself? But he was still feeling distinctly uneasy about it.

  “Stay here,” he instructed as he unlocked the door. “I’ll only be a minute. No point in coming in.”

  Shutting the door behind him, he ran through the kitchen and up the stairs. Arriving in his bedroom he pulled the photo albums off the bedside table along with his Bernard Cribbins cassette. Despite where he might be going he would rather stick to the routine he was used to – nothing bad would happen to him then.

  Turning round, he froze as he saw the cracked mirror on his wall. Red writing, slick and wet was dashed across the reflective glass, dripping slightly. Send the children to their graves. Jumping around as if he would spot the person who did it, Rigel frowned as he moved over and tried to wipe it off, his heart pounding. As his hand touched the mirror he saw a flash of purple eyes, then white eyes and then the mirror cracked completely and fell to the floor, making him yelp.

  “What are you doing up there?” called Laurie.

  Rigel screamed. “What are you doing in here?!”

  Hurrying down the stairs again he jumped as he rounded the corner and found Laurie standing in the kitchen, examining one of the dirty plates with apparent interest.

  “What are you doing?!” Rigel shouted, suddenly furious. How dare Laurie come in here when he had told him not to?

  “Just looking around,” Laurie replied lightly, apparently unaware he was being told off. As Rigel watched he threw the plate into the sink. It broke with a heavy cracking sound.

  “What did you do that for?!”

  “Well, you’re not going to need it, are you? Anyway it doesn’t look like it’s been washed for years … probably riddled with disease.”

  Whether he was being humiliated or not, Rigel could not tell; either way he felt the tears welling in his eyes.

  “You don’t know what it’s like!” he said, feeling angry again. “You have no idea what it’s been like here! No family. No friends. No food. No warmth. Nothing. I’m scared all the time and feel as if I’m going to live like this forever. Then you come along and say we’re leaving and then come in here and make fun of me. How’s that supposed to make me feel?”