James Scotson - Planets Falling

I fly the magpie around my body and Theo nods his head in understanding. “Why, hello Amy. I suggest you fly around and let us know whether you see our guest.”

Flying is exhilarating and so natural. I gain altitude and use my heightened magpie senses to search for a giant black beast named Fromer. Not far from our camp, I spot a thick, glowing, steel-black creature sitting in a patch of grass, leaning against a tree stump. He’s munching on something in a silver pack. He looks like Fromer, but is clearly different in stature. His skin is darker and his head’s completely bald. I land the bird on a nearby branch and examine his face and clothing. Fromer’s face had familar, human-like qualities. This creature is more insect-like, although not at all frightening. He’s wearing clothes that look much like Bets’ hunting garb, except it is fashioned from some exotic leather, with metal buttons. He seems happy in a buggy sort of way.

He looks right at me. In a raspy, deep voice, he says, “Hello bird, or should I say, fellow traveler.”

I wonder whether he’s lonesome and taken to talking to animals or whether I’ve been found out. He then appears in the void of my mind — the same place that Thresh and I quarreled what seems like years ago.

“I am called Etch. Who are you?”

“Where’s Fromer?” I ask.

The creature’s silent for what seems to be a lifetime. “Excuse me? Did you say Fromer?”

“Yes, I did. I assume you know who he is. You seem related.”

“Well, I will be ever surprised. This cannot be a coincidence. Fromer is a very old friend. He seems to have been busy. It is time for me to visit you and your companions. We have important business.”

“Before I lead you back to camp, I’d like some answers.”

“I can answer all your questions in time. What’s your name?”

I hesitate. “Amy Marksman.”

“Well, Amy Marskman. I am like you. I can see things that elude others. I can read minds occasionally. And I have the ability to pilot star ships.”

Beautiful blue, white, and yellow stars fill my mind and I know I can trust this creature.

I’m back in the magpie, flitting from tree to tree, and Etch follows me toward our camp. He moves effortlessly across the terrain, as if he would float away if he leapt higher. I’m back at camp in no time, with Etch a few minutes behind. I reluctantly retake my body. The pain’s worsening and the swelling has risen in my leg. I sit up to everyone’s surprise. “Listen to me. The creature’s coming. Don’t be alarmed and whatever you do, don’t fire.” I give Bets a stern look.

Etch appears at the edge of camp, with Samuel and Bets swinging around and pointing their weapons. A shot fires from English’s rifle, as I try to stand and block him. My leg gives out and I fall forward. Strangely, Etch seems unharmed, sparks swirling before his chest. He’s holding a strange, glowing, staff-like weapon with a humming blade on its end. In his thick, throaty drawl, he says, “What kind of greeting is that, my friends?”

Theo dashes in front of English. “What the hell are you doing? Control yourself.”

“Sorry ’bout that, Theo.” English lowers his gun. “We’re all a little jumpy round here. Lucky I’m a shitty shot.”

“You’re shot found its mark.” The sparks fade around Etch as he brushes ash from his chest. “I have special armor that stops projectiles most of the time. If you had chosen the plasma rifle, I would be compromised. What is your name, man?” He stares at English.

“English. And who might you be?”

Etch introduces himself, pulling a chunk of jerky-like food out of a patch. His staff folds in on itself and he tucks it into his belt. “I hope that you do not mind that I eat. Running through the woods and ducking gunfire make me hungry. I am, as you might expect, an alien to your world.”

“Well, that’s pretty obvious,” Bets remarks. “You’re not the first weird thing we’ve seen, including the aliens or whatever they were that killed our family and friends. Convince us not to kill you.”

“Well, thank you for that welcome, young woman. I doubt that you would be able to dispatch me if you tried. He pats the weapon on his belt. It is most unfortunate what is happening to your towns and loved ones. This is not our fault, although we might be able to provide assistance. Your companion, Amy Marksman, may hold a key to our shared dilemma. And we may be able to recover the child from the wayward telepath named Thresh.”

Bets responds. “You speak as if there are more of you. How many friends do you have? And why are you here?”

“We are exiles on earth. I am the pilot of a space vessel called the Fuerst. My companions are human, with the exception of one. You can meet them at our camp, where we can repair Amy’s leg. We should travel quickly and with stealth on our side.”

We follow Etch’s sleek, massive body moving expertly through the thick brush. The valley is oppressive, the air’s soaked with moisture, and I’m seeing creatures I’ve never encountered before — colorful snakes, enormous winged insects, and hundreds of unique, flamboyant birds. The more Etch moves, the better he smells — a mixture of lemon zest and mint.

Our party struggles up the other side of the gorge, following an invisible path through vines and around massive tree trunks. The cart becomes mired in deep mud and after a struggle, we abandon it. Etch assures us that his camp will provide all the amenities and comforts we need. We tear the cart apart and hide the pieces the best we can. English makes certain to stash as much shine as possible in his pack. I see Theo doing the same with pouches of tobacco.

We crest the other side and face a vast forest sloping toward a faint ribbon of blue — the ocean. Etch stops. “The camp lies at the end of the forest by the sea. We have another day’s ride.”

Theo pulls out his tablet and the image of the woods bursts forth. The blue dot marking the vessel that Troll showed us is blinking. Clearly, we have found the people we were searching for.

Etch eyes the tablet. “That’s a nice antique Theo. I have a companion who will love to examine that. It has historical significance.”

Clouds form and a drizzle greets us. Samuel grumbles, “Better be dry where we’re going Etch.”

“Samuel, we have a nice dry cot waiting for you.” Etch chuckles.

“That’d be nice.”

Theo turns Silius around, looking north across the gorge. “Oh my earth,” he mutters. A thin column of inky smoke streams from the distant horizon. “Do you think Thresh found the village?”

Bets grunts. “Everything we touch goes to shit. Why’d you expect those poor people to go unscathed by us?”

“Worse for us, that means Thresh is on our trail,” English says.

“We must move swiftly. We will be safe near my vessel.” Etch motions for us to go forward.

My leg’s numb, which worries me worse than the former pain. More disconcerting is the lack of emotion I’m feeling about everything. Thresh is probably destroying that wonderful town and has my daughter, who may be witnessing the carnage. But my soul’s as unresponsive as my leg.

The day’s a blur to me. I have a wicked fever and find myself phasing in and out of the magpie, my faithful companion since we were at the village. I try to draw strength from somewhere deep inside myself, but there’s nothing there.

Light wanes. However, we approach a white light, similar to noon-day sun, shimmering through the tree line. “We are here,” Etch announces. “There is a protective field around our encampment. I will deactivate it. Follow me through the gap. Do not deviate from the path or you will regret it.”