James Scotson - Planets Falling

I look at Theo, who’s dumbstruck. He opens his eyes wide, sighs, and motions me forward. I shuffle forward, all faces following me. I find myself standing next to the man who beat me only a few hours earlier.

“Amy, what do you have to say to us?”

I’m back around the fire in the village, with the teacher forcing me to address the crowd about the season’s harvest. My throat seizes and I want to run. How is it that I can stand down a demon from another world but fear a crowd of townspeople?

My voice cracks. “I am Amy, a garden tender. I know who is tormenting you and she seeks to destroy all of us.” I lift my arms. “All of this. Everything we hold dear and love, she reviles. The god Fromer, who you all revere, is my friend and teacher. He tells me that I am the one who will deliver us from this evil thing. I also will keep the lake from ever hurting anyone again. The portal within the deep waters will serve us for peace and prosperity, not harm. I cannot do this alone, however. I ask you to join me — help me — to save this place and our very souls.”

The crowd is silent. One person claps and then another. Within moments, the square fills with clapping, shouts, and laughter. I’m apparently the only one in the group that feels like crying.

Over the next few days, Wenn retreats into the shadows, while Etch, Theo, Minns, Bets, and

I are eagerly embraced by the villagers. The town sheriff, a short, gruff fellow named Ricard, has given us his full attention and access to his best troops. He stares at me constantly, as if he’s trying to determine what magic I possess or whether I’m a complete fraud. I’m completely ordinary — not like Etch or Fromer. What miracles can they expect from me?

At night, Fromer continues to give me lessons in my dreams. I can possess many grubs at once. Thresh indeed has no idea that I can step into her mind, although Fromer assures me that this will not last much longer. To my relief, he shows me that Thresh is unable to occupy me in the same way, because I have long learned to close my mind to outside influence. I’m quite proud of my stubborn streak and delighted to find that it translates to my telepathy.

The lake fascinates me. The more I study it, the more I see patterns and connections. I’ve discovered where the fog emerges and catch glimpses of the eyeless, lifeless ones beyond the portal. They are indeed like the grubs and other creatures wandering around Thresh’s camp. Their home in the void has no light nor warmth. Life confuses them and fills them with rage. They will do anything to suffocate it, stamp it out like the last few embers of a fire. Somehow, the travel of the pilot’s ships through the non-place called infraspace has disturbed them. Most importantly, they want revenge.

I want Fromer to show me how to close the door to these beings. About this, he is annoyingly coy. I wonder whether he’s as unsure about this tactic as I am. He provides one clue — I will need help from the other side of the portal to accomplish this task. Who will be providing the assistance is anyone’s guess.

Bets and Minns have become Ricard’s lieutenants, teaching him how to use some of the simpler weapons from the arsenals in the Fuerst and Raven. We’ve debated the wisdom of distributing this technology to the villagers. But to have a chance against the enormous creatures wandering Thresh’s camp, we have no choice. In private, Etch has warned us that the Institute and FRT forces will be back soon and we’ll need the ability to defend ourselves from them as well.

The fighters in the village are well trained and eager to learn. Most barely remember a time when the horrific creatures didn’t roam their land, taking their family and friends. The recent arrival of Thresh has incensed them — they’ve been looking for a leader to concentrate their frustration and fear. We’re giving them hope and purpose.

Ricard and I have become good friends, much to my relief. He is a few years older than me and moved to Yellow Stone when he was very young. His hometown, east of the mountains, was destroyed by raiders — just ordinary evil people — no monsters or corpses. His father was killed in the attack. His mother and aunt escaped and managed to make it up the mountain with him to Yellow Stone. He quickly rose as a leader in the village, being well known for his ability to fight the strange beings appearing on the lake’s shores. When Wenn, father, and Fromer arrived, he welcomed them. His wise judgment solidified his standing with the people. He apparently views me similarly and is helping elevate my standing with the villagers.

Ricard, Bets, and Minns have begun training our troops. While they fight imaginary monsters that will too soon be real, Etch has been giving me flying lessons in the Raven. The ship has given its soul to me. I’ve found that tending it is as satisfying and rewarding as caring for the gardens back home. I use the ship’s synthesizers to replace worn parts and renew the interior. I spend hours sitting in the pilot’s chair exploring the ship’s intricate systems, discovering new abilities and ways to reach out beyond myself. The ship is more than a means of transportation. It’s a place for self-exploration and meditation.

Theo and I have been making up for a lifetime’s worth of affection. Although it hurts for me to admit it, Wenn spoke the truth in many ways. Theo and I were meant for each other at the start. I drown each time I see those blue eyes giving themselves to me. This is a strangely happy time and I know it will end too soon. He feels similarly. When he’s not training, he spends much of his time sitting on the city wall puffing on his pipe or doting on me back in our little house.

Our planned attack on Thresh’s camp nears. We are eating breakfast when Bets appears. “Wenn’s gone.”

Theo’s sausage drops off his fork. “Bets, what exactly do you mean by that?”

Bets rolls her eyes and snatches Theo’s meat off his plate. “Exactly that. He’s nowhere to be seen. The best I can tell from talking with people, he’s left the village.”

Minns walks in at the tail end of the conversation. “It gets worse. One of our scouts reported seeing him walking toward Thresh’s camp.”

Etch growls. “Traitorous, horrid human. How much does he know of our battle plans?”

“Luckily, very little.” Bets sips some coffee. “Ricard left him in the dark and actually fed him some misinformation. I really like that little man.”

“Are you sure that he’s going over to betray us?” I hope Wenn hasn’t lost every bit of the man he once was.

“Why else would he go Marksman?” Bets shakes her head. “I mean, look what he did to you.”

“Bets, we’ve completely shut him out. Maybe this is his way to try to regain some honor, even if it’s suicidal.” Now, of all times, I’m trying to save the poor man’s honor.

“Nope, don’t buy it,” Minns exclaims.

Today, I may get my daughter back. Or I may die. Almost every able man and woman in the town will descend upon Thresh’s camp in a full assault. Our goal is simple — isolate Thresh and kill her. Supposedly, this will send the monsters and living dead into chaos, allowing me to do whatever it is that Fromer wants me to do. I’m vexed that Fromer has not yet revealed how I am to stop these things from entering our world.

Etch raises the Fuerst and fires volleys of light at the camp. We see from the distance that the camp is in flame, all the makeshift buildings burning like matchsticks. I can only hope that Eliza is not in one of them. Somewhere deep inside, I know that she’s fine. Unfortunately, I can feel that Thresh also is well.

Our forces connect with Thresh’s menagerie at mid-morning. At the front is our riflemen picking off living and dead soldiers. Some of Thresh’s forces are archers, lobbing arrows at us. We treat the razor-sharp projectiles as annoying flies because they cannot penetrate the hybrid leather-Institute armor we’re wearing. Grubs and much larger monsters lumber toward us. Oxen pull the catapults forward. Brawny men load large, yellow metallic balls containing the magic alloy and fire them at the creatures. With each impact, even the largest beasts collapse into piles of sludge. Fromer’s technology is amazing and welcome.