Nova spoke up. “You know we’ll keep your confidence, Bach, but we’re brokenhearted over Altemus’s death.”
Bach added, “And regarding how we got here, Griffon, we restored the earthships.”
Griffon walked backwards and stared. “You’re flying that old three-piece relic?”
“Yes, we rebuilt it.” Bach moved alongside Griffon and quickened the pace. “Griffon, we need your help. We’re behind on the time set for this mission, and we have to retrieve certain things to take back to Dura. How well do you know Troas?”
“Things on Troas are slow going. Nothing’s motorized, and everyone travels on two- or three-wheeled cycles. There’s one big residential area, and they have no artificial light. They’re on the outer fringes of the daystars’ ranges … where they receive just enough heat and low levels of light. The fireflies generate one type of illumination the people here can tolerate. But fireflies are dying off. People have health problems and they can barely keep vegetation alive.”
Nova added, “There was no pollution before, then the enemy set up labs on the planet’s back side. He’s tested war weapons here—below and above ground. Deadly emissions—the sand, the water, all contaminated. Underground faults have broken down from the constant detonations.”
“What’s left to share in the co-op?” Star asked.
“Nothing here,” Griffon replied. “But the people have great scientific skills, so the Specter exploits their talents, applying them to deadly chemical and bacteriological experiments. That’s how Reno and Elan crashed. Thousands of birds didn’t live up to the Specter’s research expectations so he released them in a fit of rage. The sky was filled with crazed birds that died slow, agonizing deaths. Birds clogged the control thrusters in Reno and Elan’s ship. That’s what brought them down. We lost two of our best.”
Bach looked at Star. “Remember back in the ship when Ivy warned about many wings? This has to be what she foresaw.”
Griffon continued, “And children are missing. The Specter might be taking them to the Ultimate World to train for his army.”
Nova added, “Little by little, they’re disappearing from every planet.”
“Yes, we’ve heard that too,” Star said. “We must quickly investigate.”
“We’ll launch a surveillance watch when we take Reno’s and Elan’s remains home for burial,” Nova said, “then come back for any children still here to take them to Dura, and to round up any animals remaining on Troas. We’ll move them to other planets, but we’re not sure they’ll survive there either.”
The four continued toward the residential area, following the reverent crowd through a gray and dreary public park lined with black-leafed trees. In the midst of solemness came the faint sound of harp music.
Star looked around. “What beautiful music.”
Nova pointed to a bramblebush hedge and put her finger to her lips. “The spiders I told you about.”
In the spiky black bushes nearby, glowing in the dark, a network of lacy white spider webs looked like spun sugar draped across the twigs and vines. Dozens of phosphorescent spiders, centered within their silken snares, performed like passionate maestros, their jointed legs skillfully plucking their webs like harp strings.
Music seemingly orchestrated from beyond time and space drifted through the somber air. Bach suddenly recalled Star’s mention of the spiders’ music after he’d talked about his favorite group, the Ravens. For some reason, the phenomenon of real spiders making music by plucking their webs struck him as funny. “The spiders. Not at all what I had expected,” he said, stifling a giggle.
The symphony stopped abruptly.
Nova flagged her hand in front of Bach’s face. “Shhh. You’re interrupting.”
“Sorry.”
“You’re on another planet,” she reminded him.
Bach calmed down, and the arachnids resumed their concert.
Star pressed close to him and whispered, “What did you expect?”
He turned to speak in her ear, but now her intoxicating fragrance added to his wonder and he forgot what he was going to say. He took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then whispered, “Before, when you mentioned the spiders, I was thinking more like the Ravens.”
“Oh, that’s right,” she said, “your ravens have singing voices.”
He smiled.
“C’mon, let’s go.” Griffon spoke quietly. “The memorial dinner is mandatory. Then we’ll retrieve the remains.”
Star stood back, distracted by something only she heard. Then the others noticed and stopped talking. A faint melody, like jingling bells, delicate timpani percussion, and tiny tinkling cymbals drifted around them. “Where’s it coming from?” she asked.
“The willi,” said Griffon. “Wood nymph percussionists.”
Bach’s eyes widened. “Wood nymphs named Willi play percussion?”
Griffon nodded. “The sounds come when they drop dew onto different objects. Before the deadly rays ravaged everything here, the willis’ music served as meditation and relaxation for the soul.” He sighed. “And when plants and flowers still bloomed, their dew music was even more delightful.”
“I can’t imagine it,” Bach replied.
Nova pointed to a dime-sized insect flying among the black leaves right above their heads. “Look, there’s one!”
The translucent, fairylike willi flitted around, opening and closing its pearly, diaphanous wings like tiny fans while precisely dropping from its hands one silvery bead of liquid at a time in melodic rhythm.
“You’re lucky to see them,” Nova said. “They’re on the verge of extinction. It appears that nature’s musicians are performing tonight to mourn the loss of Reno and Elan.”
As they walked on, Bach moved to Griffon’s side and said in an oddly casual manner, “You know, I find the insects’ musical gifts enchanting. I’m going to stay here for a few more minutes. Star and I will catch up with you at the memorial hall.”
Star gave Bach a peculiar look. “We should go there together and come back here later.”
“I want to stay a little longer, and you should too.” He pulled her to his side and looked at Griffon with a phony grin. “We’ll show up in a few minutes.”
“It’ll be disruptive if you arrive late,” Griffon said.
Bach waved them on. “We’ll be there shortly.”
With Griffon and Nova out of earshot, Star stared at Bach. “What are you doing? We should go where the crowds are to look for the symbol.”
He pointed across the street toward a black and white cottage with a fenced yard. The round iron gate had two intersecting spokes.
They crossed the street for a closer look. “That’s it,” Star said, “but they won’t be home if the memorial dinner is mandatory.”
Bach huffed. “So we have to wait for the event to end?” He looked around and paced. “Then what if one person lives here, and someone else has the other symbol?”
“Let’s go to the dinner and search there too. We can come back later.”
He huffed again. “You’re right.”
As they turned to walk away, a man and woman, both with white hair and pink eyes, stepped forward and blocked their path.
Bach moved toward the man with a smile. “Hi, I’m Bach and this is Star. Do you both live here?”
“Yes.” The man was defensive.
Stammering for a friendly opening line, Bach’s silence played a part in the startup of a new musical concert around the house. Two crickets on the arch over the front door rubbed their prickly legs together making the sound of violins, and on the walkway two rabbits, one black, one white, thumped their hind feet in accompaniment. Nearby, dozens of dangling spiders plucked their silky, harp-like webs, and a chorus of night birds warbled in perfect four-part harmony from the overhang. “Peaceful music for all of us,” Bach said, hoping to calm an uncomfortable situation.
The woman’s gentle face, framed by wispy white hair, matched her delicate voice. “Your presence
is celebrated by the Creator’s creatures.”
“We’re humbled,” Bach replied.
The pink-eyed man stared at Star’s eternity circle with the Byzantine cross resting within it. He shook Bach’s hand. “I’m Cyrus and this is Wick,” he said, acknowledging his mate.
“Nice to meet both of you. I’m Bach and this is Star, from Dura.”
Cyrus stepped closer to his front door. “Wick and I came back for a diary filled with stories of Reno and Elan’s travels here. We’re going to read from it at the dinner, then give it to Griffon and Nova to take back to Dura so those stories can live on for future generations.”
The delicate music stopped as Wick unlatched the door and ushered the Arkmates into the colorless cottage. “These insects and animals are like friends to me,” she said. “Their music used to lull our baby to sleep.”
Cyrus found the diary. “First our three sons disappeared, then our new baby died from the poison on this planet. Everything we touch, use, it’s all toxic.”
Bach placed his hand on the man’s back. Nodding with understanding, he said, “We’re here to take you away from all this. The Creator has commissioned us to find those with the symbol that’s on your gate. But we must hurry.”
“Can we take the book to the dinner first?” Cyrus asked.
Star took the diary from his hand. “There’s no time to read it at the dinner, but we can take it back to Dura together.”
Cyrus and Wick rushed to gather personal belongings. “What else should we bring?” he asked.
“We need two of all the animals,” Star said.
“Animals? There are few alive. We have only small ones.” Wick opened the front door. “I’ll bring Weaver and Webber, Mr. and Mrs. Hopkins, and—”
“Her spiders and rabbits,” said Cyrus.
“Yes,” Bach said. “Bring them.”
Cyrus went outside and came back a few minutes later with six hollowed-out logs that served as the animals’ homes; two were five feet long, the others shorter.
Wick waved toward the two crickets, “Honey, grab Schroeder and Gree.”
Cyrus plucked the insect violinists from their post above the door, then placed them, along with the rabbits, a jar of fireflies, spiders, birds, willi, and other small critters, into the logs. The frightened menagerie sounded off inside their makeshift dwellings.
Suddenly an ominous rumble shook the small house, rattling every door and window.
“Quake,” yelled Cyrus.
With their feet bouncing like balls on a polished floor, the four grabbed onto tables and furniture—anything within reach to support themselves. A second, more powerful tremor struck, breaking dishes in the kitchen and toppling books from their shelves.
Outside, the toxic ground shuddered as if the planet retaliated against those who had defiled it for decades.
Cyrus crawled on his knees to Bach, shoved the two longest logs filled with animals into his arms, then slid the shorter ones with insects and tiny animals toward Wick and Star. “This will be a big quake.” He scooped up the last two critter-filled logs and yelled, “There’s been much underground testing.”
The house’s foundation heaved in waves and a putrid odor warmed the air. Bach braced himself inside a doorframe to stabilize his skewed equilibrium, and yelled to the others, “Let’s get going. Stay close together.”
Logs tucked under their arms, and their feet barely touching the ground, the four fled across a land splitting into a road map of caverns, cracks, and chasms.
Running through neighborhoods where houses swayed and crumbled into heaps, and trees toppled like twigs, Star shouted to Bach, “What about Griffon and Nova?”
He yelled back, “They’ll make it to their ship … been here enough to know what to do.”
A sudden black flash near Star’s feet split the land three feet wide and flipped her onto her stomach. She screamed and crawled forward as the ground shifted upward at a steep angle and propelled her, feet-first, toward a developing chasm. Desperately clinging to her critter-filled log with one hand, she grabbed onto the rise of splitting ground with the other.
Bach heard her scream and looked back to see her dangling by one hand on the far side of the near-vertical split. He stumbled up the opposing side, latched onto her hand, and used his logs to bridge the four-foot gap. She inched across to safety, but lost her grip on the log she carried. As It rolled past Bach, a cricket escaped. The terrified insect hopped a few feet out, stopped in fear, then made music with its back legs. Bach grabbed the log while Star scrambled on hands and knees after the cricket, snatching it in her cupped hand. Her partner pulled her upright and they labored across the shifting land together, reaching the third trail just seconds behind Cyrus and Wick. The four headed into the Ark with their cargo and Bach noticed that Griffon and Nova’s ship was gone.
Star prepped for liftoff while Bach secured the passengers in the E-module and the menagerie of small animals and insects in their temporary home.
Upon engine ignition, the ship shuddered against heaving and shifting ground. With forty seconds to go before liftoff, Star shouted to Bach, “We don’t have all the animals—there’s no pegasus.”
“We don’t have time, Star!”
“We must take them!”
With the floor rumbling beneath his feet, Bach rushed aft. “Open the ramp.”
As if in answer to the opening door, the pegasus appeared on the crumbling third trail. Mane flying and tale whipping, with sparkling dust swirling behind, the stallion raced toward the Ark and stopped at the foot of the ramp nodding and braying, with its frightened pink eyes focused on Bach.
Bach stepped out to corral the beast, but the wild frenzy of wings and striking legs forced him back into the cabin. He watched in anguish as the beast galloped in a circle, bucking and kicking, then jumped a twelve-foot split in the ground and flew down the third trail. Bach struck at the air with his fist and turned from the doorway in anger. “He was right here, spooked and desperate, but there was no way to catch him. And I didn’t see a mate.”
Wick appeared at the passageway door in the main cabin. Over the body-vibrating rumble she shouted to Bach, “There is just one.”
“What?”
“Magic’s the only one—a mutant—a result of all the testing. There are no others.” She hurried back to the E-module.
Warnings clanged and the passageway security locks snapped closed. Star retracted the ramp and advanced the engines for liftoff.
As the Ark sliced through the ghost-like mist, Bach whispered, “Sorry, Magic. Wish you could’ve come.”
“I do too,” Star said.
Bach sighed hard. “The pegasus will forever remain a myth.”
“A myth? He’s real.”
“On Earth, we depicted them in fantasy as mythical creatures, but we all wanted to believe they existed. I always wondered if someone, somewhere had seen one, and so cherished the memory that the tale of its sighting was passed from generation to generation. Now I saw one—incredible! I’ll never forget him. He understood and was angry about his fate.”
She brushed a tear from her eye. “I’m angry, too. I wanted to bring him along.”
*****
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
On the lengthy flight to Jezreel, Bach and Star found time to eat, rest, and socialize with the passengers in the E-module. The eclectic group had adjusted well to their new living quarters and now shared great camaraderie. The many animals thrived and peacefully coexisted in their protective habitats.
While reviewing incoming data for Jezreel, Star shifted in her seat with a huff. “There’s something strange at the landing site.” She set the viewscreen for wide-angle and enlarged the landing site’s image. “Bach,” she said, without looking up from the electro-brain panel, “what do you make of this? The terrain scan shows our landing pad filled with debris and broken rocks.”
He looked over her shoulder and compared the image to computer data. “That’s recent damage. I’ll
check for an alternate site.” His quick terrain query found no other landing sites, but as a rudimentary map spewed from his computer he said, “I found a flat area we can use. I’ve mapped it. Star, what happened here?”
“It’s a sad story. An ill-fated transformation began after the Specter appeared. Jezreel was once a pristine biosphere with rainforests and herb gardens—the only uninhabited planet. But the Specter’s experimentation wreaked havoc with the order and balance of Jezreel and the other planets, creating medical crises, depleting food and water supplies, and creating the need for an alternate fuel source. That’s when Durans sprang into action with interplanetary travel in search of solutions.”
“Not sure I want to hear this,” Bach said.
She continued, “Jezreel’s rainforest vegetation was rich in natural pharmacologies, and we kept up with the bacterial onslaught for a while. But the evil one quickly over-harvested the forests’ herbs for his own purposes.”
“So who lives here now?”
“I wish I could give you a better answer, but the people of Jezreel are the Specter’s castoffs. He seduces followers to his Ultimate World with hedonistic gratification, but many fall victim to excess, so he transports them here, to live out their lives as slaves, working as herb harvesters in controlled gardens.”
#
Bach landed the ship on the plot of ground he’d located earlier on the computer, and they set out using his map. He pointed toward a coppice of dead shrubbery. “That’s the fastest way to get to the populated area.”
The two traveled for more than a mile through jungle-like growth of browned plants, leafless bramblebushes, and tall dry stalks before emerging from the brush near a lake the size of a city block. Dark, polluted water clogged with debris and waste, had the dreadful stench of rotting garbage.
Hoping to come up with a better choice than following the smelly lake’s perimeter, Bach checked his map for an alternate path. If they detoured through an old rainforest, they’d eventually reach the civilized area. They set out through a mix of dead trees and soggy underbrush and eventually came to the depleted forest. At a plateau in the distance, three grimy waterfalls poured over gaunt-faced cliffs into a muddy lagoon below. Bach pointed ahead. “The housing area’s in a valley not far from that lagoon.”
Alpha Rising Page 23
