by G J Ogden
Chapter 6
Elijah’s short-staff fell from his hands and rolled away underneath the ranger hut, in the way that inanimate objects often roll into the most impossibly hard-to-reach places.
“Go on, under you get,” said Ethan with a goading smile. “Ranger short-staffs don’t grow on trees, you know.”
Elijah shook his head. “Uncle, they’re made of wood; they literally grow on trees.”
“Do they?” said Ethan, with mock surprise. “Well, either cut down a tree and make a new one, or scoot down under the hut and retrieve the one I expertly disarmed from you.”
“I almost had you that time, uncle!” Elijah laughed.
“Almost had me?” said Ethan, continuing the air of mock surprise, “Seems to me like I’m the one standing tall with a short-staff still in my hands, and you’re the one crawling under a musty old hut, with all the spiders and whatever else has lived – and died – under there…”
“Fine, fine, I’ll get it,” Elijah relented.
He jogged over to the ranger hut, flattened himself onto the hard dirt and began to creep slowly underneath the wooden building.
“Ugh, this is disgusting!” Elijah cried out, though his voice sounded muffled and distant.
“So is your fighting technique,” Ethan retorted.
With one last stretch forward, Elijah managed to grab the end of his short-staff with the tip of his forefinger and roll it towards him, close enough to get a decent hold on it.
“Okay, I’ve got it, pull me out!” Elijah shouted.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” Ethan shouted back, grinning broadly. “I can’t quite hear you…”
“Ethan, stop messing around! Pull me out!” Elijah cried out again.
Ethan laughed and walked over to where Elijah’s legs were protruding out from underneath the ranger hut, visible only from just below the knee down to his newly-assigned ranger’s boots. He grabbed hold of his ankles and dragged him backwards, which was no easy task, considering Elijah’s towering physique. At sixteen years old, he was already taller than Ethan and almost as strong; probably stronger, though Ethan didn’t like to admit it. Once Elijah was finally fully evacuated from the bowels of the ranger hut, Ethan dropped his ankles and dusted his hands off on Elijah’s olive-colored trousers.
Elijah rolled over onto his back, the short-staff in his hands. “Do you mind? These are new!” he smiled. His hair was covered in spiders’ webs.
Ethan offered a hand, which Elijah gratefully accepted, and pulled him up and back onto his feet. “Yes, and they’re as green as you are, too.”
While Elijah was dusting himself off, Ethan spotted the glint of something metallic in the dirt near to the ranger hut. He walked over and picked it up; it was Elijah’s ranger seal. This simple metal pendant was inscribed with Elijah’s name and the name of the settlement. It was awarded only once a trainee earned his or her apprentice status and could officially be called a ranger. He held it out in front of him in one hand and gently rubbed the dirt away from the engraved lettering with his thumb. “Hey!” he shouted, and without waiting for Elijah to react, he threw the pendant at him.
The cobwebs still covering Elijah’s face didn’t hinder his reactions, and he caught the pendant by the twine that was used to hang it around his neck.
“Don’t lose that,” said Ethan, with a serious tone of voice that Elijah rarely heard him use. “It’s part of who you are now. It means something.”
Ethan put the pendant back around his neck and tucked it under his tunic. “It must have fallen off while I was under the hut. I’m sorry, uncle.”
“You will be if you keep fighting like a one-legged chicken. Now, let’s go again.”
Elijah rolled his eyes. The sun was setting and the golden glow of the early-evening light was casting long shadows across the courtyard of Forest Gate. “Come on, uncle, we’ve been at this for hours!”
“Yes, and we’ll be at it for hours longer if I keep pasting you like this,” said Ethan. “Now, let’s go again.”
Ethan raised his staff and waited for Elijah to do the same, which he did, after wiping off the dirt and cobwebs. Ethan stepped forward, and swung at Elijah’s body, catching him off guard, but the younger man’s quick reactions saved him and he managed to parry. The crack of the two weapons striking each other resounded around the courtyard, and seemed to trigger a switch in Elijah’s head, sharpening his focus and instincts. The weapons clashed several more times, as Ethan attacked high and then low, but then Elijah dodged and managed to get the better position, scoring a hit to Ethan’s thigh. Ethan instantly lunged back, striking Elijah’s body, but not enough to cause any pain through the thickly padded training vests they were both wearing.
“Come on, focus!” shouted Ethan, and he attacked again swinging for Elijah’s body, but this time Elijah was ready; he parried the blow and then caught Ethan’s arm. With a deft switch of footwork, and using his powerful upper body strength, Elijah stepped inside and threw Ethan to the dirt.
They were interrupted by the sound of someone clapping three times, pausing briefly between each one – clap, clap, clap.
Ethan, lying on his back with Elijah standing over him, looked over to see who it was and saw Summer standing about ten meters away, bathed in the soft golden glow of the evening light. Her arms were folded across her chest and she was smiling.
“Not bad, Eli, not bad at all. Don’t be too proud though; after all, Ethan is getting past his prime now…”
Ethan rolled away from Elijah and sprang to his feet. He was both mildly embarrassed that Elijah had managed to get the better of him, and proud of him for doing so. He had pushed his nephew hard, and the results were paying off. He was a strong fighter and would make an excellent ranger.
“I slipped,” said Ethan, winking at Elijah.
Summer walked up to Ethan, kissed him on the cheek and then slapped him on the chest, twice, hard enough that Ethan could feel it through the padding, “Keep telling yourself that…” she said, with a wry smile.
Then Summer took the short-staff from Ethan’s hands and stood in front of Elijah. “How about you try that slick little move again, but this time on someone who is less of a has-been?”
“Hey!” protested Ethan.
Elijah smiled. Ordinarily, he would be anxious about sparring with Summer, because unlike Ethan, she didn’t pull her punches, but he was buoyed by his success against his uncle and fancied his chances. He got into position and beckoned Summer to attack with a casual gesture of his hand.
Ethan shook his head gently, as he watched his cocky young nephew circle around Summer with an air of invincibility. He could see very clearly how this encounter was going to play out.
Summer watched Elijah move around her, goading her to attack, and then lunged forward; the short-staffs clashed together as the violent dance began. Elijah’s confident smile remained throughout the exchange. Then Summer swung lazily for Elijah’s body, mimicking the attack that Ethan had tried earlier. Elijah took the bait, parrying the attack and then shifting his body in an attempt to throw Summer in the same way he had done with Ethan before, except that this time it didn’t work. Anticipating the attack, Summer moved faster and swept Elijah’s leg out from underneath him, causing the stocky teenager to hit the dirt like a felled tree. Elijah groaned; he would have cried out more vocally if it were not for Summer’s knee, which landed on his chest a split second later.
“Ow…” Elijah croaked.
“I’m sorry, was that a submission?” Summer smirked.
Elijah’s reply was an incoherent gurgle, and she stood up. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“I guess we’ll call that one a draw then?” croaked Elijah, looking up at Summer from the flat of his back, grinning.
“If that was a draw, I’d hate to see what it looks like when Summer wins,” laughed Ethan, moving over to stand beside them.
The evening was now drawing in and the light was fading fast. Summer held out a hand to E
lijah. “Come on, I think that’s enough training for one day.”
Elijah stuck out a hand but then hesitated. “Hey, what’s that light?”
Summer withdrew her hand and placed it on her hip. “Do you really think I’m going to fall for that?”
“No, I’m serious,” said Elijah, pushing himself up into a sitting position and pointing to the sky behind them. “What is that?”
“Elijah, that’s not funny,” said Ethan, “I trusted you with the truth about what happened to me years ago, because I thought you deserved to know, not so that you can make stupid jokes.”
“Ethan, I’m not joking,” said Elijah, standing up fully and gazing up at the sky.
Reluctantly, Ethan turned around, half-expecting to be slapped or prodded in the back, but instead, high in the darkening sky, was an intense white light, much bigger and brighter than the flashes that were still a common occurrence in the skies above Forest Gate. Ethan now knew these to be fragments of the refinery, burning up from the intense friction generated by passing into the atmosphere at tremendous speeds, instead of Guardians as folklore had dictated. Yet for everyone else in Forest Gate and beyond, with the exception of himself, Elijah, Summer, Talia and a few other administrators, the lights were still symbols of hope and salvation. Nothing had changed after Ethan had returned to the settlement and explained to Administrator Talia the full story of what had happened to him. He had got the expected, ‘I told you so’ lecture, but otherwise she had been glad of his safe return. Surprisingly, Talia had also supported Ethan’s wish to tell Elijah and Summer the truth, but on the strict understanding that they kept it secret from everyone else. Not that anyone else wanted to know. As was the case before Ethan had journeyed to the UEC moon base with Captain Maria Salus on a supposed mission of mercy – which would later be revealed as a lie – the other settlers had no interest in knowing what had happened before the Fall. For the people of Forest Gate, as it was in the other settlements too, knowledge of the past was still considered dangerous and, as Talia reminded Ethan almost every time she saw him, Ethan’s experiences were proof that the administrators’ doctrine was sound.
“Is it another ship?” said Elijah. “Are they coming back?”
Ethan looked at the light, glowing ever larger and brighter, and shook his head. “I don’t know, Eli,” he said, and admitting this out loud made him feel suddenly afraid.
“It’s changing direction,” said Summer, and then she was suddenly angry. “Ethan, what the hell is this? If you know, tell me now!”
Ethan looked at her and recognized the fire in her eyes. It was the same look she got whenever she was in conflict, no matter whether it was with a bow, a staff or her own emotions.
“Summer, I don’t know,” said Ethan firmly, but calmly, careful not to fan the flames. And then he looked back up at the light. Summer was right, it had changed direction, and it looked like it was heading towards them. But now, as he looked more closely, he could see it wasn’t just one light, but a cluster. He looked back at Summer, “Whatever it is, let’s be ready.”
She nodded and then turned to Elijah. “Ranger, sound the bell and get yourself ready.”
Elijah’s heart skipped a beat, but he fought back the sickening feeling that was now filling his belly, nodded and ran up onto the porch of the ranger hut. A few seconds later, the bell was tolling, and people began to anxiously scuttle away, back to their homes, all bar a few stragglers who stayed to watch the approaching lights.
Ethan saw Administrator Talia rush out from the council chamber towards them, but before she could get within twenty meters, a roar began to fill the air; like thunder, but a continuous, long rumble that grew more intense, rather than fading away into the distance. Talia stopped and spun around and looked up to see twelve ships race overhead, no more than a few hundred meters above the settlement. The roar became deafening and combined with the sight of the ships, caused panic in the settlement square. Those who had not obeyed the alarm and gone inside already ran to find cover, colliding with others or just falling and stumbling, unable to tear their eyes away from the terrifying spectacle.
Ethan too felt fear grip him, not because of what he was seeing – it was not the first time he’d seen vessels like this, after all – but because of what they might represent. Few days passed without his mind slipping back to that time and wondering about what happened after Maria helped him to escape the GPS Space Station. He had left in the middle of a firefight, during a time of extreme tension between the two factions, who had been at war for more than a century, and the chances were that this conflict had continued, or even escalated.
Within seconds the ships had become dots on the horizon, descending rapidly towards the far edge of the forest behind the settlement. They had passed low enough over the settlement for Ethan to get a clear view of this small fleet; close enough for him to notice that several of the ships were on fire, and all of them looked in bad shape, with heavy scarring and armor that was scorched black. Then there came a deep, hollow boom that was so sudden it made Ethan duck instinctively, and a brilliant flash of light. Ethan raised a hand to shield his eyes and saw that one of the ships had exploded violently in mid-air, flinging its fiery remains into the forest, out of sight below the settlement walls.
The din of the spacecraft’s engines had faded to a distant rumble, enough for Ethan to hear the shuffle of boots on the courtyard, as rangers filed in from their other duties and began to take positions on the walls around the settlement, lighting lanterns and standing ready with bows in hand. He turned to face Administrator Talia, her stance unsteady and her eyes still fixed on the sky. Ethan saw her mouth open, as if she was trying to speak, but no words came out. Ethan decided to answer the unspoken question, anyway.
“I have no idea who was in those ships, and why they are here, Administrator. I wish I did.”
Talia did not look at Ethan or Summer; instead she continued to look skyward, watching the vapor trails steadily wisp into nothingness, and the black cloud from the exploded ship billow into an ominous gray fog that floated back towards the settlement. Ethan could taste it in the air now, bitter and metallic.
“I warned you that this would happen,” Talia’s words were almost as bitter as the taste in the air, but she was speaking out of fear, not anger. “I warned you that our past was best left buried. But you had to dig, and now look at what you’ve uncovered.”
Ethan was used to Talia sermonizing in this way; he accepted it as his penance for endangering the settlement after the first ship had crashed, five years ago. But, more than this, he believed he deserved it. A ranger had died because of his enthusiastic pursuit of the unknown and ‘the truth’, and although Summer and his sister, Katie, had regularly reminded him that Dorman’s death was not his fault, and that it was the council’s wish to investigate the crash, Ethan would not let himself off the hook. He had encouraged Talia to send a scouting party. It was his idealistic crusade that got Dorman killed and almost allowed a roamer horde to ransack Forest Gate. And it was his naivety and needfulness that had allowed him to be manipulated and used as a tool that almost caused the destruction of an entire colony of people on the GPS space station. The years had given him plenty of time to reflect and to punish himself for what he had done, and this had toughened him, like an old wooden short-staff that had been hardened over many years.
“I understand that you’re scared and angry, especially at me,” said Ethan, “but now isn’t the time; we need to find out who they are.”
Talia stopped watching the trails in the sky and focused on Ethan, fixing him with an unsparing stare. “I seem to remember some years ago that you suggested we investigate another crashed ship, and look where that got you. Are you sure this won’t turn into another of your misguided crusades, Ethan?”
Summer was also now watching Ethan with interest, though she tried to not make it obvious. She studied Ethan’s facial expressions and his body language for any familiar tells that would suggest he was l
ying or acting defensively, trying to hide his feelings. But Ethan stood tall, and besides a slight wrinkling of the skin between his eyes, which told Summer only that he was becoming annoyed, there was nothing about his demeanor that indicated his suggestion to investigate was anything but sincere.
“Look, I can see why you’d think that, Administrator,” he began, and then turned his head to Summer, catching her off guard, “and why you’d think it too, Summer. But things are different now. I already know everything I need to know about that world, and the only thing it taught me is that what we have here matters, and needs protecting.”
Talia’s eyes narrowed; she was also scrutinizing Ethan’s body language, trying to make up her mind whether to believe him or not. It was certainly true that in the years since Ethan had miraculously reappeared and given his account of what happened between him and the two factions warring in space, Ethan had been different. Whereas before he was reclusive, spending his time alone or with Summer, or his sister and nephew, now he made much more of an effort to engage with the community and he took more of a leadership role with the rangers. He had stayed close, choosing not to volunteer for the longer and more dangerous scouting parties, although there were times when he still needed to spend time alone. His transgressions outside the settlement walls at night were less frequent, perhaps, but Talia knew of his special place on the mound, under the ancient tree with branches that crept out like wizened old fingers. She allowed him this, just as she had before. Despite everything, Talia liked Ethan and always had done.
“So what do you propose?” Talia asked.
“We send out a small party, just a couple of rangers, or perhaps even just me, traveling light,” said Ethan, talking faster; the wrinkle above his nose was now gone. “If they landed just beyond the far side of the dead forest, I could get out there, find out who they are, and how many there are, and be back in a day.”
