James Scotson - Planets Falling

I consider the creatures ravaging the countryside — that destroyed my home. I ask, “What about the fog and the grubs? Where do they come from? Did they arrive on a ship like Etch and the others from space? Do they have a side with the Institute or the other group, the FRT?”

“No. They’re seeping through the doorway across the mountain, like pus from a wound. There are other things beyond the doorway that are not of this time and space. They’re jealous of life and want out. They had a taste of freedom on another world and they’re bringing some of what they discovered with them.”

“The brown fog?”

“Yes, the fog was created by a human — a brilliant scientist — and he used it on another planet, a place where life had not yet arisen. He intended for the mist to help bring life to that world, like seeds and compost for a garden. Instead, the creatures that exist beyond the portal found this fog, stole it, and now are using it to possess living things and roam earth. They mold it like clay to do their bidding. And, I’m afraid they’ve found a friend in Thresh.”

“So, the fog can be used to make monsters and raises the dead?”

“Precisely, Amy. And more of it is pumping out of the portal each day. It needs to be stopped.”

I feel the familiar tugging and Fromer vanishes. I open my eyes and am lying on a comfortable cot in a small room. The handsome, dark-haired man I saw when we first arrived at this camp is working at a small table and hasn’t noticed that I’m awake. My leg hurts again, which I take as a promising sign. I shift and the man turns around.

“Good to see you awake.” He smiles. “I’m Grey. You’re leg’s healing. We did the best we could. You’ll be able to keep it, but you’ll have a bit of a limp. We only gave you a mild sedative — didn’t expect you to pass out like that.”

“Where are the others?”

“They’re fine Amy. We’re trying to piece together what’s happening out there.”

“I need to talk with Etch.”

“I’ll go get him.”

The dark alien arrives. “Good to see you feeling better Amy Marksman.”

“I just saw Fromer again.” I tell him about my experience, while he stares at me with his thoughtful, buggy eyes. He’s eating something that looks like bread but smells like rancid cheese.

After I’m finished talking, he wipes his hands on his pants. “I suspected that there was something afoot here on the surface. Another door, very interesting. The other pilots will sense it with time. We need to get you to that place quickly. There, you will find your husband and father. And we will need to determine how to control the opening or destroy it.”

“What do we do about the fog?”

“I hope that we can stop it by controlling the portal. The beings that are behind this exist beyond our universe — all this. They need the fog to survive in this reality as the beasts you call grubs and spread. If we close the door, they will be unable to control it.”

“And Thresh?”

Etch grumbles. “I will tear her apart.”

I shake my head. “Only if you can get past me. I get first dibs.”

Grey peeks his head in the door. “Do you mind if I interrupt?”

Etch stands. “I think we are finished for now.”

Grey hands me a strange piece of food. “It’s called a sandwich. Two slices of bread and one of my favorite things, peanut butter. Here, take a bite. You need to heal up.”

I’d heard of peanuts but could never get them to grow in our soil. I take a bite and the mixture of salty, sweet, and gooey richness makes my head spin. “Thanks,” I mutter, my mouth glued together.

Grey smiles and hands me a sweating glass of milk.

I wrinkle my nose. “How’d you get this? I didn’t see any cows around.”

“When’d you get a chance to look around?” He asks.

I hesitate. “Just assuming.”

“Well, we can generate basic food materials using raw materials from the surroundings. No cows necessary.”

I think about Troll’s compound. The same must have applied to the food and drink it provided to us. I suppose I was naive to think the robots were tending a farm for us. “What’s a raw material?” I ask.

“Just about anything can be reconfigured. Most simply, our waste.”

“By waste—” I’m afraid I won’t like the answer.

“Leftover food, excrement, and urine are the most basic ingredients. But even that stuff runs out of key nutrients. The rest we find in the fields and the ocean or grow in our garden. Etch occasionally hunts and fishes for us as well.”

My appetite wanes. I push the milk away. “You eat compost.”

Grey laughs. “You’ll get used to it. I am the one who grows the crops. I’ll show you in the morning.” He gathers a robe and gestures to me. “Why don’t you try out your leg?”

“It’s broken. I can’t use it yet. It’ll take months to mend properly.”

“On your own, perhaps. However, basic field medicine always includes a kit for annealing bones. Come on.” He reaches to me.

I sit up and swing my legs over the cot. Grey holds my hands and I stand. I’m a little shaky, but my sore leg holds. Grey drapes the robe around my shoulders.

“Come on out for a bit. It’ll help you heal by keeping active, with caution of course.”

We leave the small building and enter the courtyard of a small, makeshift compound of metallic buildings. The Fuerst is in the distance and the ocean is only a couple of hundred yards away. My dream self didn’t notice the wonderful salt air and warm breeze. The artificial light is dimmer, less harsh than it was when we entered earlier. “How long was I unconscious?”

Grey whispers, “This is late evening of the third day.”

I’m about to voice my astonishment when we round the corner of a curious, humming building. There, sitting around a merry fire are Theo, English, Samuel, Bets, and Etch. Theo, English, and Samuel wear the strange clothing that Grey’s donning. Bets is still in her hunting clothes, stretched out, warming her bare feet by the flames. Sitting next to her is a muscular young woman with a worn, kind face. Bets exclaims, “Marksman, you spend more time out cold than awake. Welcome back to the living once again.”

“Good seeing you on the mend, Amy,” Samuel grins. He’s trimmed his beard and looks ten years younger.

Theo hands me a cup of white liquor. “This is Grey’s special sauce. Go easy on it.”

Grey takes the cup from me. “Until the meds cycle out of your system, best not to tempt fate. Amy, I think you’re acquainted with everyone here except Minns.”

The woman stands up and extends her hand. “Pleased to meet you. They tell me that you’re a pilot, though you don’t know it. I’m not sure to tell you whether you’re fortunate or cursed. Perhaps a bit of both.”

Etch growls. “Minns, she has a gift. Amy, forgive her rudeness.”

Minns continues grasping my hand. “We have a bit of a history with another pilot that’s all. It’s one of the reasons we’re stranded here.” She lets go and sits back down next to Bets.

“You’ve created a small village here. How do you remain hidden?”

Minns answers. “Smoke and mirrors. The protective field you’ve entered hides us from view overhead. We are only seen by ships in space when we want to be found. We’re in exile from the rest of our kind you see.”

“Let me try to explain.” Grey sits in a strange canvas chair. “We discovered something that’s considered tempting to some factions up there.” He points to the sky. “It was on a planet that my father was trying to make suitable for life and eventual colonization. You know what a planet is?”

I think of Troll and its education. “Yes, I do.”

“Well, things went horribly wrong. We called it planet C9 — it opened up a hole of sorts. All kinds of nasty creatures came out.”