Planet Walkers

by A. V. Shackleton

  Casco waggled his finger at his head.

  Sorry! Huldar said.

  There’s no need to yell now!

  Sorry, he said again, and proceeded to tell them about sea levels and cliffs more quietly. His mind-voice had a lilting quality that Andel always enjoyed, but today she noticed a more personal aspect to the sound, as if they stood closer together. When he squinted seaward, Andel followed his gaze and saw a row of tumbling black clouds massed on the horizon.

  We’d best move on, he said. Big island further south – it’ll be cold, but there are colonies of sea-dwellers on the shores and this may be our only opportunity to see and assess them. And besides, that’s as far as my portals extend so far.

  What of Andel’s survey? Casco asked, reminding Huldar of their earlier experience of volcanism. Their narrow escape was clear in his mind.

  Time for that tomorrow. I know there’re no portals yet, but Andel, if you and Casco can far-sense where you need to go, I’ll make sure you get there. Cobar –

  – will keep us safe, the muscular Rukh finished for him.

  Huldar clapped him on one ample shoulder. Let’s go then!

  As they stepped through the next portal, the tearing wind cut off. The roar in their ears was replaced by a cacophony of staccato grunts, and a pungent, salty smell assailed their nostrils. Before them, a vast colony of huge worm-like creatures basked on the sand just beyond the waves. Their blubbery bodies were covered with fluff-tipped scales in broad dagger patterns of turquoise and white. Long muzzles lifted vaguely. Faceted eyes moved lazily toward the annangi then back to the waves as if they could not truly see what they did not understand. Shiny nasal flaps opened and closed as the creatures breathed. Four dark flippers splayed from beneath their front ends, followed at the rear by a pair of vestigial limbs that looked for all the world like large annangi hands, and their streamlined tails were long and whippy, hinting at a far from lazy life beneath the ocean.

  So, we meet some larger creatures at last! Casco said.

  Huldar showed them an image of the demure, furry worms he had seen there only months before, apparently a larval stage of these behemoths.

  They look more like huge, roly-poly cushions than living creatures, Andel said.

  Cobar drew their attention to a substantial scar that broke the markings on one worm’s side. And look at that one to the left there. Predators to match their size. He pointed to the torn grey flesh of another creature’s tail. Bluish ichor still oozed from several long gouges.

  Andel winced as she noticed white cartilage exposed. Those teeth-marks are huge!

  We must be cautious, Cobar said.

  “‘To feel the Breath of El so close makes a friend of every breath’,” Andel murmured.

  Your father again? Huldar asked.

  She looked up into Huldar’s gentle smile. Yes, she replied. And Cobar’s right. Somewhere nearby there must be creatures with huge mouths, sharp teeth and appetites to match.

  They scanned the horizon. Low hillocks rose and fell as if the ocean continued inland, frozen in the landscape. There was little exposed vegetation, but hardy plant-life utilized the meager soil in the dips. The south-polar ice sheet was a fine thread of white glimmering on the horizon. To the north-east, a chain of drowned mountain peaks faded like ragged stepping stones into sea-mist and distant spume. Closer to shore, ice floes and slush filled the sluggish waters.

  Andel turned toward the distant roar of startled blubber-worms at the far end of the beach. Blue and white bodies rippled toward the ocean. The Uri’madu crouched low. Andel closed her eyes, craning her mind to see what had caused the creatures to flee. She searched the network of hollows.

  There’s movement! Her mind gave chase.

  What is it? Huldar asked.

  Andel shared the image of a pack of red, six-legged lizards flowing like a river parallel to the shore. The agile creatures kept low in the gullies, running with their two front legs arched above their heads as they darted among the ropey plant-life. The injured blubber-worm moved restlessly. The river of red changed course.

  It’s the blood, Huldar said. They’re after the wounded one.

  They’re coming closer … fast! Andel said.

  We should move, said Cobar.

  Huldar raised his hand. No, wait! Stay still! The thrill of finding predators and prey thrummed in his voice. The portal is close. If we move they may sense us.

  Cobar and Casco glanced at each other, wary of his decision. I’ll screen us, Cobar said.

  Casco frowned. They perceive the world differently from us. We can’t rely on screens to keep us hidden.

  We’ll be fine, Huldar said. Lethians know these things.

  Andel wished she shared his confidence. Here they come! She crouched low with the others, almost afraid to look.

  There was chaos as the lizards crested the dunes. Worms roared and thundered toward the sea. Flippers beat against sand. Blubber rippled with effort. Enamel-red lizards streamed between the heaving bodies, faster by far than their prey.

  As the first of the predators fastened itself onto the raw wound, the injured worm made an eerie scream. Its tail thrashed against the sand, but for every attacker dislodged another latched on, and another, until its rear end was a mass of seething red.

  Andel looked away.

  Well, Casco said. Not the jaw size we expected, but serious predators nonetheless.

  I can’t watch this any more, Andel said. Please, can we go now?

  Huldar nodded. Aye, let’s go. But as they stood, one of the lizards turned.

  Andel gasped. It’s looking straight at us.

  Skeins of blue fluid dripped from the lizard’s jaws. It had two large eyes as red as its body and a third, jewel-like eye in the center of its forehead. It cocked its head. Horizontal pupils narrowed to slits, then expanded as they locked onto a new prize. Others looked up from their feast.

  Huldar spread his arms in front of his team. Slowly now: just back away. The portal is right behind us.

  A small group of lizards left the carcass and rushed at them, their heads the still point in a flowing tangle of limbs and tails. Andel huddled close to the team, afraid to look away. She tried not to stumble as they backed another step.

  Now! Huldar said, and with a whisper of song they were returned to the wind-swept beach. As one, they turned their backs to the gale.

  Casco wrapped his arms across his chest. Isn’t this where we first arrived?

  I told you, Huldar said. I’ve only had time to make two portals. It was nothing like this when I came before.

  At least we’re away from those red things. Andel shuddered with more than the cold. When they looked at us, all I could feel was hunger.

  We could stay here, Huldar said, but I’m sure I can find somewhere better.

  Most places would be better, Casco grumbled.

  While Huldar braved the wind to commune with Qalān, Andel crouched in a low depression with the other two.

  “Any sign of them on this island?” Casco asked her.

  “No, but let’s not assume we are safe. Something else made the wounds that drew them in the first place.”

  “Let’s hope it lives in the briny deeps.”

  “And stays there,” Cobar said.

  Eventually, Huldar stepped them through to the base of a barren plateau on the far side of the same island. The wind still howled, but they found a small cave where they could shelter.

  Andel thought it might be a sea-cave formed eons ago when this platform had been at the shoreline. Her eye came to rest on a rounded, knee-high boulder, pale against the slaty shingles of the ancient headland. Curious, she kneeled beside it. The surface felt rough beneath her fingers.

  What is it? Huldar asked.

  She closed her eyes and a maze of calcified tubules filled her senses – salt, algae, biological detritus. This stone is from the seabed, she said. Her eyes opened. Not far away was another boulder of similar size, and another. Then she noticed mounds of
smaller stones wedged in the lee of every crevice. They were too high above sea level for them to have been deposited naturally.

  I think it was washed here by a giant wave.

  She stared out to sea, trying to visualize the enormous wall of water necessary to have swept this material from the sea floor and deposited them here. What had such triggered an event?

  Huldar joined her. Perhaps Lind was right about the central sea being an impact crater.

  Hmm, maybe, she said, but even if that were so, this is more recent.

  We know the sea rises no further than it has already, but could they have been carried in the ice? asked Casco.

  Not in this case. See, there are no score marks – no scraps or fragments caught beneath it. She scratched at the boulder with her fingernail. It was soft and easily marked. No, this has happened sometime in the recent past – since the current thaw began. She removed a leathery strip of seaweed caught at its base and looked up at her teammates. I’d say within the last few months.

  Huldar raised his shoulders. How could such a massive disturbance have had no impact anywhere else? Why didn’t I feel it?

  Maybe it’s natural, Casco said. There’s plants in the gullies, life on the shores. Maybe it’s an expected part of the planet’s cycle, not a catastrophe at all.

  Then where are the rest of them? The other rocks from the past events?

  Andel looked at the barren shale of the cliffs. The answer seemed obvious. Deposits from older cycles would have been crushed by the ice and the remains washed away or dissolved in the thaw.

  Will it happen again?

  No way to tell.

  Cobar craned up the cliff-tops. “Should move higher,” he rumbled.

  “Good idea,” Huldar said. “I don’t want to be drowned in my sleep by a giant wave!”

  Huldar searched Qalān again and took them to a sheltered niche below the snow line of an inland hilltop where they could safely set up camp. After they’d eaten, Andel left the tent and lay back with her head in her arms, staring up at the night sky. The great circular constellation that rolled by increments across the inky dome seemed born of the silver line of the ocean. Above her, moons made a scattered line from horizon to horizon, some round and full, others shadowed, and some no more than bright dots moving in concert with their larger siblings.

  Huldar joined her and pointed out a dark breach in their path. “See how the moons are bunching, leaving that gap there?” he said. “Might cause changes in tidal activity.”

  “Could there be a link between the giant waves and the moons?” Casco offered. “Do they align with the sun? What if there are times when the moons and the sun are on the same plane … an eclipse?”

  “There was an eclipse, months ago now,” Huldar said. “A major one with all of the larger moons bunched up at once.”

  “Would that be enough to generate a tidal wave?”

  “Perhaps,” Andel said, “but for some reason I keep thinking of nacrite.”

  “Nacrite?”

  “It seems strange, I know, but I’ve never seen so much nacrite in one area as I saw in the cave near the sky-step. Maybe there are other deposits trapped in a cave under the sea, or a system of caves. It’s mobile. What if the pull of a large eclipse makes the nacrite surge …” she fanned her hand up and down “… displacing the ocean?”

  “A localized event,” Huldar said thoughtfully. “Predictable … not the result of an eruption or quake at all.”

  Andel grinned. “If we could find the extent of the wave and its apparent epicenter, I might be able to locate the nacrite.”

  “If that’s what it is!” Casco poked the fire. “You’re taking a bit of a leap.”

  “Hmm.” Huldar scratched his head. “I must admit, it’s an unusual theory.”

  “But we could test it,” Andel insisted. It was a good theory; she knew it! And to find more nacrite would be beyond sensational. She watched Huldar thinking, but he was too well disciplined to give anything away.

  “All right.” He smiled at last. “We’ll keep your hypothesis in mind while we explore the islands. There might be further signs … although I’ve never heard of a nacrite deposit so large it could generate a destructive wave.”

  _______

  Andel awoke after a surprisingly refreshing sleep to find the morning sun shrouded by mist. They had been on the island for several days now, and this was the first let-up in the gale. Their elevated campsite was an eyrie above the island’s plains. When the fog lifted, she would be able to see how far the rapid greening had progressed. Down on the steppe, thick pillows of emerald moss made a pockmarked surface for shrubs and succulents to find shelter and grow. Whole flocks of pale pink nuts crept on animated roots until a suitable hollow was found, then they nestled in and sprouted almost overnight with large mottled blooms. As these died back, a new generation of wandering nuts ripened and began their journey.

  While Cobar made breakfast, she clutched a steaming mug of tea. “I wonder how the others are getting on?”

  “Warmer than here!” said Casco.

  She ran her fingers over the rune of Trianog on the side of her mug. “What did you make of Duvät Gok?” she asked. “At our meeting, before we left?”

  “The smile threw me,” Casco agreed. “Thought I was seeing things.”

  The sound of rustling paper as Huldar smoothed their copy of Ulisharu’s map cued Andel toward their makeshift table. He placed a pebble on each corner to hold it flat.

  “So, where are you sending us today?” She shared an image of the hat-shaped island they had seen to the south-west. From the information they had found so far, she was certain it was close to the generation point of the wave. “It’s in the right place …”

  He traced his finger along the chain of islands in the center of the archipelago and stopped over the island’s position.

  “Promising?” she asked.

  “Hmm.” He studied the map. “If that’s sandstone, there might be some fossil records there. Could tell us a lot.”

  “Oh, it is,” she assured him. “Sandstone, limestone, chalk – similar geology to the sky-cliffs –”

  “Where you found the nacrite.” He sighed. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

  She shook her head.

  “All right,” he said. “I’ll see what I can do. If we go to the portal … here,” he pointed to an area on another, more westerly island, “I think it will open into that region, maybe directly onto that island you’ve called The Hat. No harm in taking a look.

  “Casco and Cobar, you go back to Long Island. Learn what you can about the fault-line there.”

  The two nodded. “The rift escarpment looks interesting,” Casco said. “Might be fossils there too.”

  _______

  By the time Andel and Huldar arrived on top of the broad sandstone mesa that gave the island its distinctive look, it was already near midday.

  Huldar’s haze glowed with excitement. “Look at this!” Beneath their feet were lumpy beds of fossilized bones. Andel saw a huge spiraling indentation where a long-dead creature had left its mark. She wandered toward another, smaller collection of mineralized remains.

  “Huldar! Over here! Can you see this …? Yes! It’s a skull with three distinct eye-sockets.”

  “An ancient ancestor of the lizards? This will keep us busy for ages,” he said.

  They walked from find to find, calling out to compare notes. Each new fossil seemed more intriguing than the last, and Andel almost forgot that they had come to The Hat to find a point of origin for the giant wave. But then, wedged in a crevice close to the edge, she found a skeleton that was far more recent.

  She straightened up and shaded her eyes. The sea spread like a glittering gown around the island, the swells mere ripples today and shining in the summer sun. It seemed impossible that a wave could be so big as to engulf The Hat entirely, but that was what must have happened. There were no predators on this island big and strong enough to have carri
ed such a large fish so high.

  Huldar, she called. You should see this.

  Shreds of desiccated flesh still clung to the bones. Bleached scales fell away as she touched them. How did that get there if not because of a huge wave?

  I don’t know, Huldar said. He too gazed thoughtfully at the ocean. Such a wave … can you imagine?

  Terrifying, Andel agreed, but she was too excited to feel fear. The nacrite was there. She could feel it as if the planet spoke through her bones. A second major discovery – surely she had earned her place among the Uri’madu.

  Huldar shook out the map. We found your first boulder here, he pointed to an island in the eastern chain, then seabed gravel on this one …

  She ducked under his shoulder to look. With the three points to work from and The Hat as the central marker … It must be along here somewhere, she said, indicating a region between islands.

  Huldar leaned so close she could feel his breath on her cheek. We’d better find a way down to the shore so you can get a closer look, he said.

  She straightened quickly. Her heart was pounding. “Yes, that would be quite wonderful.”

  _______

  Late that evening the four explorers sat inside their sturdy mess-tent and stared into the campfire, warm mugs of spiced jhavo nursed in their hands. Andel sipped the thick, sweet liquor and appreciated the burn as she swallowed. Inner warmth met the radiant heat of the fire and the bitter cold of the Antarctic night faded. She wiggled her toes inside her boots. It seemed ages since she had run barefoot on the moss of Frith, her homeworld. She pictured her home, Aventhe – the moss would be fruiting by now, a soft fuzz of amber over the verdant green that carpeted the hills. Sweet white rayno blooms would hang from the archways, tinkling in the rain. In her mind’s eye she saw the vesa arrive to cloak the north-facing walls of the old stone manor with flamboyant red and blue, their wings a-shimmer as they soaked in the sun. For a few weeks, the strident buzz of their all-pervading mating call would drive her parents mad, but the beauty of their delicate rituals made the period of annoyance seem a small price to pay.

  “… lines of erosion,” Casco was saying, and something about tides, but small flames flitted across the coals, the jhavo warmed her belly, and she found it hard to pay attention.