James Scotson - Planets Falling

“We must get back to camp immediately.” Fromer was already packing.

“This completely sucks,” Minns said. She was disappointed and frightened — a strange, unpleasant combination.

In a few moments they were perched at the cliff edge. Minns descended followed by Fen. Grey started down when Fromer felt a pleasant warmth radiating on his back. He turned to face Mup.

Mup was younger and happier. His face was complete — his dark eyes twinkled and his mouth grinned. “Hello my old, old friend. You need to follow me if you want to save your colleagues. Don’t fear. The nasty sour puss Mup the Mop that tried to kill you is no more. I banished him.”

Grey called up to Fromer. “Fromer where on earth are you? I know this is doubtful but do you need help?”

Fromer knew that Mup was right. It was illogical but he felt it within every cell. He shouted down into the fog. “Grey, I need you all to get back to camp immediately. I have to remain here for awhile. I will rejoin you soon. You do not have time to argue with me. Please leave.”

Grey paused for a moment. He knew that Fromer was impossible to persuade once he set his mind to something. “Fromer, I have no idea what you’re doing, but I’m going to trust you. Keep your comm on and we’ll keep watching you with the drone. We’ll not leave you on Nine.”

Fromer turned to Mup. Mup nodded, grinned broadly, and ran into the fog.

Fromer had no trouble keeping up. The ground was flat and the fog was lifting. Sunshine peeked through the mist. “Are you really Mup?”

Mup laughed deeply. “I’m not the same being that you left in space. He’s still there, a frozen brick, and good riddance. When I was him, I was so lost, angry, frightened. I did such horrific things. It’s amazing how a little death opens one’s mind.”

“Brother, I do not understand. If your body is where I left it, then who are you?”

“It’s impossible to explain. I don’t understand it myself. This world allows me — all of us — to manifest physically. Quite remarkable. We have very special plans for you.”

“We? Your plan — you will help me stop Mel?”

Mup chuckled. His pace quickened. “Stopping your friend, your dear lost love Melat, is a minor task compared to what’s in store for you — for all of us.”

Fromer’s eyes struggled to adjust to the radiance before him. He and Mup reached the edge of a lake. Sunshine sparkled merrily on ripples. Below the surface, Fromer saw stars. Or were they something else?

Mup picked up a flat, round stone and skipped it across the surface. “Remember when we were kids and imagined having a family — mother, father, siblings? What if I told you that there’s more than that? That we’re part of a greater family?”

Fromer sighed. “Mup, we do not have time for this metaphysical discussion. I know I am conversing with a ghost or a hallucination. However, Mel has lost her mind. She is going to destroy us. I need to know what I can do.”

“Your love Melat knows as well as I do that it’s all relative. Time here only has meaning when you’re in it. Jump into the water dear friend. It will all make sense. Or sense won’t matter anymore.” Mup giggled and jumped. Strangely, no splash followed.

Fromer gazed at the water and its ghost lights. The water was not water. It was clarity — vastly empty yet strangely full. He needed its warmth. Fromer the hybrid, one of the galaxy’s great technological achievements, followed Mup into the depths without making a sound.

Fen, Minns, and Grey bounded through the thick haze, following beacons that Grey set along the way, just like the electronic bread crumbs he set in the tunnels of his home world so many years ago. Fen was laboring, his age finally challenging him. He hadn’t completely recovered from the fire on the Platform, which was not helping. He fell to his knees. “Grey, Minns, go ahead without me. I’ll catch up.”

“Uncle, we can’t leave you here.” Grey just abandoned Fromer. He couldn’t abandon one of the last threads of family behind in the organic ooze.

“Grey, give me a concussion rifle. When you stop Melat, you can recover me. If Mel suceeds, you won’t have reason to come back.”

Minns touched Grey’s arm. “He makes a compelling point. He’s got enough firepower to keep those things away from him. We’ve got to go. Now.”

Grey gave Fen a long desperate look. Fen nodded. And they started running again.

The planet then decided that they were to go no further. Swirls of fog coalesced before them. Hundreds of hands, wrinkled palms spread wide, surrounded them. Mud tendrils weaved in between the fingers and wrists, eel-like, obscene and sensual. Grey felt his stomach turn.

Minns was not happy. “I’m so tired of this miserable place. What the hell are these things? Grey, was your father completely insane? Who in the hell would come up with something so, disgusting? If he wanted to kill any intruders, why did he have to use such awful creatures?”

Deep down Grey knew that this wasn’t his father’s craft. Something corrupted this act of creation. Behind them, the concussion rifle fired four times, with the characteristic whump of collapsing air. Grey turned but the snakes and digits had weaved a thick blanket before him. “Fen? Are you okay over there?”

Fen’s muffled voice tunneled through. “I’m fine. I presume you’re mired like me?”

“A little bit. They haven’t attacked us yet. It’s like they want to trap us, not kill us.”

Minns started firing angrily into the hands. With each charge’s impact, a hand or tendril would fall into a pile of slop. But another formed in its place.

“Minns, conserve your ammunition. We need to wait until they become aggressive. We’re not going to shoot our way out of this.”

Minns stopped firing and threw her rifle on the ground.

Grey typed into his comm and waited for help to arrive.

Gorian looked up from her screen. “Grey just commed us. Things are horkin bad out there. Fromer is gone. The others are trapped about three kilometers away. I don’t think that help’s coming.”

Verat sipped his tea. “What do you think Mel’s waiting for in there? The Raven’s just a short jump away.”

Iggy checked the barrel of his rifle. His communicator spoke while he fidgeted with his weapon. “I don’t see her at the shuttle’s helm. She may be running through the pre-drop diagnostics virtually in the back. She’ll be unable to activate the quantum drive until she is in the command center on the Raven. I anticipate we won’t have much time to stop the shuttle once it is in air. We have one opportunity. The shuttle bay is underneath the Raven and thus will be unable to dock the shuttle. Rather, she’ll need to land the shuttle next to the vessel and run into the aft hatch. If we send Banna and Tyrrel there, they may be able to intercept her.”

Verat inhaled. “I can’t believe I’m a fly trapped in this forsaken ointment. I’ll remain here on the comms and with the drones. Gorian, I presume you’ll stay at the shuttle trying to get in?”

“I will. If I can get it open, then Iggy, you, and I will engage Mel and stop her.” Gorian looked down at the gun in her hand. Her mind was with Grey and the others, wondering if they might have a chance in the mist. She imagined confronting Mel in the shuttle. Mel wasn’t defenseless. Fromer and his guard left a considerable number of weapons, including grenades in cargo. The shuttle also was equipped with a light arsenal of external guns for defense. If Mel wanted, she could turn the shuttle toward the camp and begin blasting.

Banna and Tyrrel slung rifles on their shoulders and hooked grenades on their belts. They glanced at the shuttle. No sign of Melat at the helm. They slipped into the gorge leading to the Raven’s resting place. Within about fifteen minutes, they’d be in position to stop Melat.