James Scotson - Planets Falling

Fromer was obviously pleased that his lesson generated interest. “A long, long time ago, Amy. About 15 billion complete changes of the seasons…years as I still think you call them. The problem facing all of us is that it all is still stretching out and the strings are getting thinner. Space’s so very lonely. But it is life, like on this earth and other earths that make those strings have meaning. It was hard for me to see that single indelible fact before I began travelling. But it’s so clear now.”

Father chimed in, the explorer within him aroused. “There are other earths? I don’t even know what’s beyond the mountain range, the broken cities, or the ocean. And you be telling me that there are other earths to explore?”

“Yes. And I’ve a secret to tell you both. You and your bloodline hold the key to reaching those places. We don’t have to be alone. We can be connected with each other.”

I was annoyed. “We aren’t alone Mister Fromer. Look around you. This village contains over 300 souls. And there are many more like it throughout the countryside. I bet we could round up thousands of folks in a few weeks.”

Fromer sipped his tea with a gentle slurp. Crickets chirped and a nighthawk whined. The green beings grew bored and walked back into the woods, their glow dimming as they retreated between the boughs. “What do you think happened to the ancient ones, as you call them? I think your elders say that they angered the gods and were whacked for their arrogance. I am not going to tell you what happened exactly. This is for you to learn on your own. However, the ancient ones were searching for places to go and looking in the wrong place. There were so many of them, and yet they were growing lonelier and greedier. You should embrace what you have here. Unfortunately, change, and great responsibility, is coming. The vacuum will eventually challenge you and your people again — much too soon.”

Fromer sat quietly, scratching the small patch of coal-tar hair on the top of his head. “Let me tell you a story about who I am and what brought me here. This may seem strange to you, but I was not born. I have no mother, father, or family. Rather, I was made on another earth — a planet — far away in the void beyond your sun and moon. Part of me is like you — human. The other part isn’t of this earth, as you can clearly see.” He tapped on his breast, producing a hollow clack. “The other half of my body is of an alien race called the zenats. As you can already gather, that part’s quite different. For example, I breathe through my chest, not my mouth. I saw you noticing that, Amy. Very perceptive.”

He paused thoughtfully, while father and I stared, our tea cups untouched. He continued. “So, here I was starting my life already feeling quite alone. I was trained by both humans and zenats to do many things, except to have fun and to relax. Love escaped me, or so I thought.” He smiled sadly. “I was already quite old when I realized that it was time to move on. I found myself walking on a world of mirrors, chasing another version of myself when the door opened. You always have choices and I didn’t have to enter. A good friend convinced me that it was time to go. You’ll learn about this world soon enough. And you’ll find that another door has opened, here on earth.”

I squirmed in the bench. “What kind of vague story is that about mirrors and doors? And how can you not have a mother and father? That’s impossible. I’m assuming that you’re using the word door as some sort of metaphor? Teacher uses those all the time. I personally think they’re attempts to skirt the truth about things that Teacher doesn’t quite understand.”

Fromer nearly spit out his tea as he giggled. “Very intuitive my dear Amy. Some of this is right on the tip of the arrow point. It should be pretty obvious that I’m withholding much of my experience. And I’m still learning, thankfully. It is so difficult for me to put this into terms you’d understand right now. If I started using words like quantum drive, particle physics, teleportation, terraforming, warps, computers, and so on, how would you feel?”

“I’d feel that you’re an insane god.” I poured my cold tea on the damp ground.

“Perhaps I am. Here’s the deal for you and your father.” His chiseled eyes penetrated my round ones. “Live your life as you always have. But be prepared that change is coming. By traveling along the timeline, I’ll drop by from time to time to check in. But this will be your struggle. Mind you, they are approaching. And they are hungry.” He pointed at the sky, with its full, lighted moon and the billions of stars. His body light dimmed. “And there are others beyond all of this that are stirring as well. They are seeping out of the door, which you will soon learn much about.”

“What do you mean by beyond this?” Father asked.

“When I slipped through, I discovered — others. Impossible to define exactly. But very dangerous and jealous of life. They want to come here and extinguish life and the light it produces. Very evil, indeed.” Fromer hopped up and cleared his throat. “Enough of the dark talk. I will have to leave when the sun rises. Ansam, father of Amy, I would love to see your forge and some of your coveted blades. I’ve been known to wield a weapon every once in a while.”

We walked to father’s forge and then to the vast, rectangular storage building where he kept some of his best weapons. Fromer gravitated toward a large blade with a simple leather scabbard. Fromer looked at father. “Do you mind if I — “

“I’d be honored.”

Fromer gently lifted the blade, pulled it out, and then swung it lightly in the air against an invisible opponent. His movements were fluid and balanced. I was impressed. This god was made for war.

Light appeared on the horizon and Fromer appeared to recede. “I must go now.” He set down the sword.

Father shook his head, picking up the blade and handing it to our new friend. “Fromer you can’t go on without this. It was certainly fashioned for you. I didn’t realize it at the time. But you’ve got to have it.”

Fromer smiled, grabbed the weapon and its sheath, and leapt out the door. When I ran to the awning, he had vanished. The first beam of sunlight tickled the dew. “He’s gone father.”

“Oh, I’d reckon he’ll be back. Wait ’til we tell the others in town about this.”

“Father, are you considering telling people? They’ll never believe us. If you weren’t so valuable as a smith and me as the garden tender, they’d cast us out as touched or worse yet possessed. I’m not sure I believe what we just saw. How’d we convince others?”

“At the very least, you must tell Wenn, Amy. He’ll be your husband soon. As family, he’ll be mixed up in this at some time.”

Conflict boiled up within me. Wenn had been my choice. But, while Wenn served as an able successor to father’s post in town and as a future father to my children, I still felt separate from him. I had secrets that I wouldn’t share with anyone, including that man. Telling him about the god Fromer or whatever it was that we met didn’t feel right. For father, Wenn was a son, confidant, and unfortunately a drinking partner. I knew that there was no avoiding this revelation. If I didn’t do it, the shine in father would do it for me.

The next evening at supper, Wenn, father, and I were talking about routine matters of the day. The forge needed a new roof, the new group of students in the gardens was lazy, and fall was arriving earlier than usual. I suddenly heard myself talking. “Wenn, father and I have something to tell you. You’ll never believe it — and perhaps that’s best. Maybe we were imagining it ourselves.”

Wenn turned toward me and tilted his head. “What’s going on? You got my attention.”