James Scotson - Planets Falling

A thread deep within me snaps. I push my entire being into Thresh and find myself occupying her completely. Thresh is gone and I’m standing in that kitchen with my daughter. I’m expending every ounce of energy to stay this way.

I see Thresh’s reflection in the woman’s eyes. Thresh is still wearing the tattered red dress, her hair braided down the side. Her eyes are wild but blank. I make Thresh say, “Stab me, now. In the heart.”

The woman in blue steps back, trembling.

“Do it. Before Thresh returns.”

The woman is motionless. I search the room for a knife, see a butcher’s blade, and lunge toward it. I’m about to plunge it into Thresh’s chest when I’m feeling tugged away — I’m stirring in my cot back at camp. I can no longer control Thresh’s arms but can still speak. I turn toward the woman. “Listen to me. I’m Eliza’s mother in Thresh’s body. I don’t know how long I have.”

The woman stammers, “If this is a trick, I’ll soon be dead like the rest of my family. I’m Magarat.”

“Magarat, protect my daughter, please. I’ll come get her and rescue you as well. Be strong.”

The tugging grows stronger. I stare at Eliza, who’s oblivious and making quite a mess. The knife drops from Thresh’s hand and the pull’s irresistible. The room fades and I’m in my cot, with Gorian standing over me with her impossibly large eyes. “Hey there,” she says.

I look at her, shaking. “I’ve got to kill that woman.”

After the dream-travel, I’m agitated and not at all hungry. Gorian’s been told to feed me breakfast and I’m not complying. Her pretty, flawless face is contorted with frustration. This is a woman who’s not used to resistance.

“Amy, for mars-sake, you’ve got to eat. Grey says that it’s critical for you to get healthy.”

“Woman, I just saw my child for the first time in months. She called that lunatic Thresh her mother. I’ve got to stop her.”

Gorian purses her lips, looking doubtfully at me. “You were just having a vivid dream. All this stress and Grey’s drugs are affecting your sleep patterns.”

“So, you don’t believe I can travel outside my body and occupy others?”

“Scientifically impossible. The only way to transmit neurological electrical signals is through some transmission system like in the pilot house of a starship. You’ve not got the technology to do it.”

I frown and push the food away. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. But you’d better get used to the idea that I do more traveling in my sleep than awake. It’s pretty damn miserable. I’d trade it with you anytime.”

“Let’s make a deal. I’ll believe you if you eat something.” She pushes the tray back toward me.

“Please don’t be condescending. I’ve got pressing news. They’re coming.”

Gorian raises an eyebrow. “Who exactly might that be?”

“Thresh used the fog to raise the dead. They’re acting as scouts for her. They’ll find this camp in a matter of days. And, although your fence is impressive, something tells me it’ll be no match to the fog and her grubs. They’ll break through and kill you all.”

Gorian’s silent, obviously spooked by what I’ve just said. She holds her chin and looks out the window, the light shining on her pale hair. She muses, “Perhaps there’s something here on the planet that’s acting like a transmission network for telepaths. I wonder…” She claps excitedly and runs out the door.

I shuffle out of the door after her into the blazing glare of full sunlight. Etch’s sitting on the edge of a table talking with a grey, slick creature with bulging eyes and webbed hands. It’s dressed in the same green material that Gorian and Grey are wearing. Three smaller, unclothed versions of the creature are playing in a puddle in the shade of a nearby building. Etch turns toward me. “Amy, good morning. This is Iggy. He returned last night, with his children. Are they not adorable?” He laughs and puts his hand on the nauron’s shoulder.

The being extends its hand to me. I shake it, discovering that the extremity is cool and indeed slimy. A strange voice, similar to Troll’s, says, “Glad to meet you Amy. I apologize for having to use this device to speak. My language’s very different than yours and I need it for you to understand me.”

“That voice — it’s yours, not a machine?”

Etch responds. “Iggy, Amy had an unfortunate experience with an early model of a human machine interface. She is not used to artificial voices.”

Iggy smiles, showing his toothless jaws. His eyelids droop, slowly lubing his eyes. “Yes, I’m quite organic. As you can see, there are more of me now. They will be unable to speak for quite some time, until they mature. At that time, we will teach them to use transmitters as well.”

“What in the hell is going on here? What are those things splashing in the puddle?” Bets steps out of her cabin, scratching her head. Theo and Samuel follow. They’re equally perplexed.

“Meet Iggy,” I say.

“And his children,” Etch adds.

“Where are English and Minns?” Grey appears with a platter of steaming cakes. “Breakfast will get cold.”

Samuel snorts. “They was drinking brandy until the wee hours. Won’t see them ’til noonday.”

Grey’s face droops. He’s genuinely disappointed.

While the group eats, I explain my dream. They seem to believe me, unlike Gorian. Even Grey barely touches his food while I recount the gruesome images.

Theo’s clearly angry. “What’s that woman doing to poor Liza? Can we take this ship and kill Thresh and rescue that poor girl?”

Etch responds. “We do not understand the organic matrix — the fog — well enough to know whether we can defend the Fuerst from the beings you call grubs.”

“But, I thought you said Grey’s dad invented it?” Bets asks.

Grey swallows a bite of egg. “When he released the substance on C9, he didn’t leave us any records of it. We didn’t have enough time to get a sample before Melat took the planet with her.”

“Well, we’d better learn quickly how the fog works given that several hundred rotting dead people are lumbering toward us,” I say too loudly, my voice cracking.

Grey looks at me with concern. “Amy, would you like to see my garden while we all think about our next steps?”

I know Grey’s trying to calm me down and to keep me from agitating the others. “Yes, Grey.”

“Great Amy. I say we all reconvene here at lunch and decide what to do next. If anyone sees Gorian, please let her know what’s going on.”

“She already does,” I murmur.

Grey and I walk up a worn path into the uplands overlooking the ocean. We enter a large field full of strange plants that I’d never seen before. The soil here’s all wrong for the area. I kneel down and crumble it between my fingers. Rather than dry sand, it’s rich, loamy, and full of moisture. “How’d you do this?”

“In my previous life, before we went into hiding, I was a kind of farmer called a terraformer. My job was to cultivate planets to make them suitable for people. With the right tools, I can reconfigure the plant life to increase its productivity. That’s what I’ve done here with the crude tools on the Fuerst and with Gorian’s engineering skills.”

“Grey, I barely understand what you’re saying. But what I’m seeing before me is an abomination to earth.”

“What?”

“Cultivating is about working with the earth to make food. What you’re doing is completely trampling it to meet your selfish needs. It’s no wonder your kind was exiled from the planet. Is anything here natural, of this earth?”

Grey’s crestfallen. “Why, yes. Many of the plants here were cultivated on earth before the end of our era.” We walk over to a small stand of plants that look like maize. However, the stalks are small, slightly luminescent, and loaded with ears of purple kernels.