Earthtaker

by Robert Jeschonek

  “Stop!” Mid swung her arms around, aiming at the charging bison, and glared with dark intensity. Golden light pulsed around her hands, then shot out of them in twin, blazing beams.

  One of the beams blew apart a bison in mid-run, flinging the white shrapnel of its shattered bones in all directions. But the second beam missed its target.

  It was then that Ebon stepped forward and raised his arms overhead. A strange black nimbus swirled around him, so his body looked like a negative exposure, etched in white against the darkness. He chanted something in a language I didn’t understand, and bolts of blackness flashed out of him.

  All the bison stampeded at once, roaring in the sweltering heat. The bolts slashed through them in quick succession, changing their bleached white bones into gouts of black smoke that puffed up and whirled away.

  “I end you again!” he cried. “I banish your breed from the face of the Earth for now and evermore!”

  The rumbling and blasts faded for an instant, but it didn’t last. The noise and shaking and eruptions surged again, more powerful than before.

  This time, they were joined by crackling arcs of ley line energy snapping out of the ground. They clustered around Mid, lashing at her from all sides with searing energy. She deflected them as best she could, but one got through, leaving a sizzling line like a lit fuse between her shoulder blades.

  That was when I realized we were doomed. The Bitch of the Badlands was going to kill us.

  Unless someone tried something unexpected.

  I thought it through for an instant, digging deep…and then I burst into action. Darting from Ebon’s side, I ducked inside the cruiser and hit the horn.

  “Hey!” I held the horn down and hollered over its blare. “Badlands Woman! Listen up!”

  The energy bolts and rumbling didn’t let up.

  “I said hey!” I shouted louder and pounded the horn on and off, changing the steady blare to staccato blasts. “Don’t you recognize me?”

  Only then, at last, did the attack subside.

  About time. Laying off the cruiser’s horn, I ran over to the demolished Corolla and clambered up onto its battered roof. “You do, don’t you? You recognize the number one war-self of planet Earth!” I paused. “Or should I say, you think you do.”

  I waited just long enough for my words to sink in.

  “Here’s the thing,” I said. “If I were who you think I am, wouldn’t I have already kicked your ass? And wouldn’t a certain planet be backing me up, tearing you a new one?”

  There was no reply…but the rumbling didn’t start up again, so I thought maybe I was doing okay.

  “What if, instead of her, I’m someone who just looks like her? What if my friends and I are on your side, and we’re only here to talk?”

  I stopped talking then and waited for whatever came next. Would another herd of skeletal bison charge out of the earth to gore and trample us? Would more cannonball rocks burst out of the ground and smash us flat? Would the entire rock canopy crash in and entomb us?

  When a fresh round of rumbling started, I thought I’d failed. I looked over at Ebon, and he just shrugged, as if to say, c’est la vie.

  A mound of banded stone broke through the ground then, pushing up into the middle of the flat under the canopy. It rose to a height of several feet, then stopped, sand running off all its sides like water.

  The mound just sat there for a moment, inscrutable, and I wondered if I should move closer. When I finally took a step toward it, though, it started to shake, and I stopped.

  As I watched, transfixed, the top of the mound blew right off, shooting shrapnel all around. Instinctively, I threw an arm up and closed my eyes to shield myself.

  When I opened them, I saw a shimmering figure clad in white rise up from the mound, an ethereal woman with red-tinted skin and long, black hair. She wore a snow white dress with a thick fur collar and trim, studded from shoulder to ankle with glittering teardrop diadems.

  Slender and sinuous, she floated above the mound in a state of perfect grace. Her eyes, when she turned them to me, were equal parts serene and indignant.

  “I am the White Buffalo Calf Woman.” When she spoke, her voice sounded like the rush of wind over the prairie. “I am the Lady of the Badlands, the goddess of the Lakota Sioux. If you are not the Risen Shadow, the One Who Destroys, then who are you and what do you want?”

  As in the dark as I was about the specifics of our quest, there were only one detail I was sure of just then. “I want to save humankind.”

  White Buffalo gazed at me for a moment, searching. “That is not what the Earth and her war-self desire. You would stand against them in this?”

  “Yes, Lady,” I said. “What good is a world without its people?”

  She continued to stare thoughtfully at me. “Yet you are cut from the same cloth as the world’s war-self. You were made to be identical in every way. Why should I trust what you say?”

  “Because I am not her,” I said. “And I will not rest until I have taken back my good name and mantle, which she has ruined.”

  Suddenly, White Buffalo swept forward, coming to rest directly in front of me. Hair rippling like swaying palm fronds, eyes glowing with sharp white light, she fixed me in her gaze. I felt like a butterfly pinned to a board, under the lens of a powerful microscope.

  “And why have you come here, little warrior?” she asked. “What do you want from me?”

  Mid spoke for me. “Help,” she said. “We want your help to save humanity before it’s too late.”

  “But I am not strong enough to challenge Mother Earth or her minion,” said White Buffalo.

  “Perhaps not alone,” said Mid. “But that is not what we seek. We ask that you help restore the Ancestrum and empower the rightful war-self for this era.”

  “Her, you mean.” White Buffalo’s gaze never wavered from my face. “This one.”

  Heart pounding, I waited for the answer. When Mid had told me my twin was not the only war-self to have walked the Earth, it hadn’t occurred to me that I might be the other. Maybe I should have guessed, but I hadn’t.

  And now the truth was on the tip of Mid’s tongue, and the implications were staggering. Overwhelming.

  “Yes,” said Mid. “Her. The woman who calls herself Gaia Charmer.”

  A chill rose up my spine as I heard the words. So many thoughts were flashing through my mind, so many questions were fighting to burst out—yet I somehow stayed silent, holding back as the Lady of the Badlands considered her options.

  As little as I yet knew, I was well aware that humanity’s future depended on her answer.

  “You came here uninvited,” she said at last. “And one of you came in the form of a terrible adversary. I am well within my rights as an ancient patroness of these lands to wipe you all away as if you never existed.”

  I tensed, wondering if my death was imminent. Now that I finally knew a kernel of the truth about myself, was I about to be blown out of existence by a Native American goddess?

  “Perhaps we would all be better off that way,” said White Buffalo. “Humanity has not done much for me lately. The people do seem to be locked on the road to self-destruction, with no inclination to seek a different path.

  “And yet…” White Buffalo reached toward me. When her hand touched my cheek, a flicker of electricity passed through me. “I cannot deny that I am moved by your pleas. And as much as I wish I could set aside my affections for feckless humankind, I cannot do that, either. Yet.”

  Withdrawing her hand, she drifted away. When she waved, the rocky spikes withdrew into the ground, and the cannonballs of stone dissolved into sand. The holes in the earth filled, and every trace of bison bone turned to dust and swirled away.

  “So be it,” she said. “I will do what is within my power to do, in the name of humanity.”

  “Thank you, milady,” said Mid.

  “Be advised, though,” said White Buffalo. “This work you ask might well remain beyond our grasp. Restorin
g the Ancestrum will be no simple task and will take us far afield. As for empowering the rightful war-self, I’m not even sure it can be done.”

  “I can tell you this,” said Mid. “On our own, without your help, we stand almost zero chance of success. So we’ll be more than willing to cast our lot with you.”

  “Better than nothing?” White Buffalo smiled as she drifted down to land her pale feet on the ground. “I am honored you place me in such very high esteem.”

  “Your esteem couldn’t be higher,” I said, jumping down from the crushed roof of the car. Marching up to her, I extended my hand. “If we manage to pull this off because of you, you’ll be known forever as the savior of humanity.”

  She cocked her head and gazed at me for a moment as if taking my measure. “It has a nice ring to it.” With a nod, she took my hand and shook it. “Congratulations. You have done the near-impossible. You have won me to your cause.”

  My hand tingled with more of the same charge I got any time she touched me. “I’m glad to hear it, Lady Buffalo. Now, maybe you can tell me.” I squeezed her hand and looked over at Mid and Ebon, who didn’t seem the slightest bit agitated. “Where do we go next, anyway?”

  “Vancouver, far to the north and west of here,” said White Buffalo. “The gateway to somewhere you have never been, which is where our only hope of survival lies.”

  I frowned. “You don’t know me. How do you know I haven’t been there?”

  “Because no one alive in the outside world at this time ever has been.” White Buffalo looked grave as she said it.

  “Really?” My frown deepened. “You know I was the avatar of Mother Earth, right? I know this planet like the back of my hand.”

  White Buffalo smiled cryptically. “There are secrets even Mother Earth and her vessels don’t know about this planet…thank the Great Spirit for that.”

  With that, she let go of my hand and turned to face Mid, who had come up behind her.

  “We might already be too late,” said White Buffalo. “You know that, don’t you?”

  “We’ll move forward as if we have even the slightest chance of success,” said Mid. “Otherwise, we’d be declaring surrender.”

  “All right then.” White Buffalo nodded. “Courage it is.” She wove her hands through the air, and a cloud of mist surrounded her. When it cleared, her long, white gown had been replaced by a scoop-neck white top and faded bluejeans. “Shall we begin? Let’s not keep the world waiting.”

  Chapter 14

  Why stay the night in Yellowstone National Park when there’s a perfectly good toxic lake just a few hours northwest of the place?

  That was the thinking, anyway, as we skipped one of the most beautiful places on Earth and headed for one of the most contaminated—the Berkeley Pit, old open-pit mine in Butte, Montana. Since Mother Earth couldn’t see as well through pollution, we guessed this place would keep us well-hidden overnight, even if we stayed at a motel a few miles down the road.

  I hoped the theory was sound, because I was in no shape for an all-out battle after the fight with White Buffalo Calf Woman and nine hours in a now-crowded state police cruiser racing away from the Badlands. With the Corolla demolished and an extra passenger along for the ride, we now had four people in the cruiser—Ebon, Mid, White Buffalo, and me. It wasn’t really cramped, but there wasn’t as much room to stretch out as before, and there was a bit too much body heat in the A/C-free cabin. With the Midwestern heat wave in full swing, the temperature inside the car was pegging big-time in the sweltering zone.

  Not that it seemed to bother White Buffalo a bit. She sat up front with Ebon, looking cool and collected at all times, as Mid and I squirmed and sweated in the back seat. Something in her goddess DNA must have given her resistance to the heat…though it didn’t protect her from every environmental influence, as we discovered.

  The closer we got to Butte and the Berkeley Pit, the more uncomfortable White Buffalo got. She slumped in her seat, rubbing her temples, and drained of color.

  When she started groaning, Ebon took notice. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Are you all right?”

  White Buffalo just tossed her head and groaned some more. Then, suddenly, she lashed an arm across the seat and grabbed his wrist.

  “Stop!”

  Instantly, Ebon swung the cruiser to the side of the road. Before it had even stopped moving, White Buffalo flung the door open and scrambled out, falling to her knees.

  I’d never seen a goddess throw up before. For the next few moments, White Buffalo looked all too human, retching repeatedly on the gravel berm.

  Jumping out after her, I stayed close and waited for her to finish. When she finally stopped, I put a hand on her back.

  “Feel better?” I understood her pain. When my link to Mother Earth was active, extreme pollution made me feel the same way.

  She nodded weakly, and I helped her to her feet. “This place is making me sick. It’s so full of poison.”

  “We’ll pass the actual Berkeley Pit soon,” said Ebon from behind the wheel. “Hopefully, the effects will let up when we get on the other side of it.”

  “I hope you’re right,” said White Buffalo. “I can’t take much more of this.”

  We got back in the cruiser then and drove onward. White Buffalo got sicker and had to get out again a mile down the road—but the effects started to lessen after we passed the turnoff for the Berkeley Pit.

  Unfortunately, they were still pretty potent when we reached the first motel after the turnoff, three miles away. White Buffalo made it clear she couldn’t spend the night there, so we drove another three miles to a motel she could manage. Waves of pain were still battering her, but she thought she could make do until morning.

  She got her own room and disappeared inside. After more than nine hours on the road, the rest of us were happy to do the same.

  Again, I shared a room with Mid, who looked almost as beat as White Buffalo. She turned up the air conditioner in the window, then lay down on her bed beside it right away with a heavy sigh.

  “Are you okay, Mid?” I asked as I got my own bed ready.

  She spoke without opening her eyes. “I’ve been getting the same feedback as White Buffalo Calf Woman…not as bad, but bad enough to give me a splitting headache.”

  “Would a cool washcloth help?”

  “No, thank you.”

  I glanced at her satchel on the dresser in front of the beds. “Do you have any ibuprofen or aspirin in there?”

  “Just…no.” She tossed her head from side to side. “I just want to lie here quietly for a while.” She sounded annoyed. “With the lights off.”

  “All right.” I walked over to the switch on the wall by the door and flicked it off…then heard something tapping on the window. Peering out from behind the floral-print drape, I saw Ebon standing just outside, waving.

  Whatever he wanted, I thought getting out of the room for a while was a good idea. I had a hunch Mid would be happy about it.

  “I’m going to see what Ebon wants,” I said. “I’ll be back in a bit.” Then, I scooped up the room key from atop the TV set, dropped it in my pocket, and let myself out.

  Mid just lay there with her head cradled in her hands and didn’t say a word.

  As I closed the door softly behind me, Ebon gestured at the room. “She’s asleep already?”

  I shook my head. “She’s got a bad headache from the pollution.”

  “Sorry to hear that.” He nodded toward the cruiser. “Want to come along? I have an errand to run.”

  “If you’re sure Mid and Buffalo will be okay,” I said.

  “They should be fine.” Ebon headed for the car. “We won’t be gone long.”

  Standing behind a chain link fence atop a steep green-and-yellow bank, I gazed down at the dark red water far below. The color shifted as I watched, red giving way to deep green blooms as a faint breeze played across the surface.

  The sun, which was low in the sky, cast a shadow from the rim that
covered at least half of the immense, teardrop-shaped lake. In a matter of minutes, the sun would set, and the pit’s transformation for the night would be complete.

  “Hard to believe something so polluted can be so beautiful, huh?” said Ebon, who’d driven us out here and paid our admission fees.

  “Hard to believe people can charge admission to come look at it,” I said.

  “That’s humanity for you.” Ebon elbowed me and laughed. “Gotta love ‘em, those dirty dogs.”

  I wasn’t as entertained as he was, though it was interesting getting so close to a thing like the Berkeley Pit. If I’d still had my link to the Earth, I probably would have dropped to the ground long ago, gasping for breath.

  “You still haven’t told me,” I said. “Why did we need to come out here?”

  “Part of my job.” He leaned over the fence and stared into the water with narrowed eyes. “If a call comes in, and I’m nearby, I answer it.”

  “What kind of call?” I asked. “What are you talking about?”

  “There.” He pointed at the water, but all I saw were fluffy white clouds and blue sky reflected from overhead. “See that fish over there?”

  Still, I didn’t see what he was talking about. “What fish?”

  “A new species,” said Ebon. “It came into being a month ago, evolved to thrive on the toxic chemicals and heavy metals in the Pit. Sadly, its kind won’t last.” As he said it, a strip of silver wriggled up to the surface. “The end is nigh.”

  “I didn’t think anything could live in there, except some extreme microbes,” I said. “According to the plaques, anyway.” I pointed to the long wooden panels mounted outside the visitor center, where the hazardous environment of the Pit was explained in detail.

  “Well, that little fella could…at least for a while. If scientists had found and studied him, he might even have helped humanity survive climate change in the future…but, alas, he stayed under the radar.” Ebon snapped his fingers, and the wriggling fish fell still. “May he and his species forever rest in peace.”