Glitch Mitchell and the Unseen Planet

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Glitch Mitchell and the Unseen Planet Page 13

by Philip Harris


  He watched Anderson in her cage. The doctor appeared at her side, and Anderson pointed at Glitch. It took a while for the doctor to spot him, but eventually she gave a little wave.

  Glitch watched Anderson explore the cage, testing the bars just as he had. Eventually, she sat on the floor, back pressed against the side of the cage.

  It was almost dark, and pinpricks of light were appearing all over the village. Glitch could make out the flickering glow of a fire through the windows of some of the huts and another, much larger fire in the middle of the village, half hidden by the trees and platforms. Shapes moved across the flames, and he imagined the Barash standing around a roast, just as the So-lang had.

  Glitch checked on Nen again. He was still asleep, still breathing. Sighing, Glitch lay on the floor and tried not to think about what might be crawling toward him through the tree.

  Glitch was woken shortly after dawn by the clattering of a wooden plate scraping against the bars of the cage. One of the Barash was crouched on top of the cage, a large wooden bowl and another plate sitting next to it.

  Glitch sat up, his bones cracking and complaining at the disturbance. Nen stirred, too, and the Barash grabbed a couple of handfuls of leafy vegetables from the bowl and dropped them onto the plates. Then it unlatched the cage door and dropped the plates and a leather pouch into the cage. The plates hit the floor and bounced, scattering the food everywhere. Glitch stared at the mess as the Barash closed the cage door and flew away. It was hard to tell where the food ended and the floor began.

  Nen rolled over, groaning, and crawled to the food. He picked at it for a moment, sniffed it, then started eating. Glitch considered ignoring breakfast. He wasn’t sure how long he’d slept, but it wasn’t long enough for him to get really hungry. But he had no idea how long it would be before their next meal. If this was all he was going to get, he’d better make the most of it.

  He joined Nen, grabbed what he hoped was food, and put it on one of the plates. “Good morning.”

  Nen nodded but didn’t speak. It looked as though his earlier terror had receded, but he was clearly still scared. Glitch bit into a long, thin vegetable. It looked like a white carrot but tasted watery and bitter.

  He grabbed the leather pouch and shook it. It sloshed. “Is this water?”

  Nen looked up from his food, glanced at the pouch, then shrugged. “Probably.”

  Glitch pulled the wooden stopper from the pouch and sniffed at it. All he could smell was musty leather. He poured a little of the liquid into his hand. A few particles of what Glitch hoped was just leaf floated on the surface, but otherwise it looked like water.

  “Here goes nothing.” He lapped at the water in his hand. It seemed normal enough. He poured some of it from the pouch directly into his mouth, trying not to think about what else might be in it. The water had an earthy undertaste, but it was cool and refreshing. Glitch offered the pouch to Nen, but he shook his head.

  “No, thank you.”

  Glitch took another sip then replugged the pouch and placed it on the ground. He picked at the food on his plate. It all tasted much the same—grassy. He was pretty sure the last thing he tried actually was grass. He spat it out.

  Once his plate was empty and he couldn’t find anything more that looked like food among the vegetation on the floor, Glitch stood. His ankle was tender from his fall down the sinkhole, and he rotated it a few times, trying to loosen it. Once he got bored of that, he went to check on Anderson and the doctor.

  The sun was low over the horizon, its warmth chasing away the fine layer of mist that had descended over the village. The dim light made it hard to see, but he thought he could make out Anderson and the doctor sitting in their cage with their own food. Anderson was quietly eating hers, but the doctor was peering at her plate, gesturing excitedly. Apparently she approved of the Barash’s vegetarian fare.

  With a soft thud, a pair of Barash landed on top of Glitch’s cage. They were big and muscular, and their arrival made the cage rock slightly. They both carried the same whips used in the attack on the So-lang village. The Barash flipped the door open and rolled a rope ladder into the cage. One of them let out a series of rapid, rather aggressive chirps.

  “He wants us to go with them,” said Nen.

  Without waiting for a response from Glitch, he walked slump-shouldered over to the rope ladder and climbed up. When he was almost at the top, one of the bird-men grabbed him and hauled him out by the shoulders. Nen flinched but didn’t resist or make a sound.

  Glitch got similar treatment. Standing on top of the cage with the Barash’s claw-like hands wrapped around his wrist, Glitch wondered exactly where they thought he would run. They were at least a hundred feet above ground, with dozens of lethal-looking branches just waiting to crack skulls and break spines.

  Below them, Glitch saw Anderson pulled out of her cage. She looked at him and waved. Glitch tried to respond, but the Barash tightened its grip on Glitch’s wrist. Glitch’s hand was beginning to go numb.

  The Barash holding Nen let out a short chirp and pulled on his arm. This time Nen yelled. The Barash unfolded broad wings, black and flecked with red. One was damaged; some of the feathers were missing, and the wingtip was bent at a slight angle. The Barash shook his wings twice then took off, carrying Nen upward a few feet before gliding out over the trees.

  As his own captor took off, Glitch tried to steel himself for the inevitable vertigo.

  He failed.

  As they passed over the edge of the canopy, he made the mistake of looking at the ground far below. His stomach lurched, simultaneously threatening to tie itself into knots and drag itself out of his throat. The breakfast he’d just eaten clawed up his throat, and it was all he could do not to throw up.

  They glided down into the forest in a slow circle. Another Barash joined them, its body covered in multicolored streaks and swirls of paint. It paid no attention to Nen but stared at Glitch, apparently intrigued.

  When they’d dropped thirty feet or so, the Barash flapped their wings and swept through the village. They picked up speed as they weaved between trees and over walkways. Glitch couldn’t help but think that if they ever made a video game of his adventures, this would make one hell of a level.

  Glitch heard a squeal. Anderson and the doctor were also being carried through the village, following a parallel path. Anderson looked as though she was actually enjoying the ride. The doctor, less so.

  They curved between a pair of trees, narrowly missing a group of young Barash crouched among the branches, then entered a wide, open space. At its center sat a huge tree, its trunk at least thirty feet across. A wide wooden platform circled it, suspended on dozens of thick vines attached to the branches above. At least a dozen Barash stood around the tree, all of them watching Glitch’s approach.

  The Barash glided low over the platform then let go of Glitch. He landed awkwardly, and his ankle cried out. There was a flutter of wings, and the black-winged Barash landed next to Glitch. A few seconds later, Nen, Anderson, and Doctor Zheng were deposited on the platform beside him.

  “Are you okay?” said Anderson.

  Glitch nodded, his attention drawn to one of the Barash that had been waiting for them. It stood a few feet away on a wooden dais, but even taking that into account, it was over a foot taller than any of the others, and it was broad and muscular. Like the Barash that had followed Glitch to the platform, its body was covered with a complex series of multicolored patterns—streaks of vibrant reds and greens, circles of ochre and blue. The creature’s beak-like mouth was scarlet, as though it had been dipped in blood. Two other Barash stood next to it, smaller and without the markings but no less intimidating.

  Glitch shuddered. He leaned down and whispered to Nen, “Who is that?”

  “He is the Lorock, their holy leader.”

  The Lorock walked toward them, back straight, imperious. As he walked, his wings expanded behind him. The feathers shimmered blue and green in the dawn light.

>   “Hello, my name—” said the doctor.

  The Barash behind her let out a screech, and the doctor stopped speaking.

  The Lorock walked up to Anderson, looking her up and down. She swallowed, her hands balled into fists. He turned toward the doctor, regarding her with equal indifference, then moved on to Glitch. Glitch looked into his black, soulless eyes, trying to hold the creature’s gaze. He couldn’t, and Glitch turned away.

  The Lorock walked across the platform, making a rapid clicking sound. Nen immediately knelt. A hand grabbed Glitch’s shoulder, digging into his flesh and pressing him downward. Glitch let himself be pushed to his knees. The doctor did the same, but Anderson resisted. The Barash behind her kicked at her leg, catching her behind the knee. She grunted and joined them on the floor.

  Another Barash appeared, stepping silently from the shadows. It carried a long sword, the blade black with jagged teeth running along both edges. The Barash bowed slightly and placed the sword across its arm, offering the hilt to the Lorock. The Lorock took it with both hands and raised it above his head, letting out a long, deep screech. All around them, the call was repeated, dozens of voices echoing the cry. The Lorock lowered the sword, and the cries stopped as he walked toward Glitch, the vicious-looking blade held out in front of him.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Trial in the Treetops

  The Barash carry Glitch to their treetop village. He is separated from Captain Anderson and Doctor Zheng and imprisoned with a young male So-lang called Nen. In the morning, Nen and Glitch are woken by the Barash, who feed them a meager breakfast then take all three humans and Nen to a wooden platform in the center of the village. The Lorock, the Barash’s spiritual leader, is waiting for them.

  The Lorock walked across the platform, making a rapid clicking sound, and a Barash appeared and forced all four of them to their knees.

  A second Barash walked out of the shadows, carrying a long black sword, the blade edged with jagged teeth. The Barash gave the blade to the Lorock, who raised it above his head and let out a long, deep screech. The Barash standing around the platform repeated the call until the air was filled with their cries. When the Lorock fell silent, the rest followed his lead.

  The Lorock lowered the sword, holding it out in front of his body, and walked toward Glitch.

  Glitch looked at Anderson. He saw her tense, preparing to run at the Lorock when he got close enough. He hoped that was before the Barash ran Glitch through or cut his head off or whatever he was planning on doing. The rest of the Barash’s excitement was clear, a tangible bloodlust that Glitch could actually feel. The Lorock approached Glitch and lifted the black sword again. Glitch stared at it, praying Anderson would make her move soon.

  There was a flurry of activity, and a murmur spread through the Barash as a shape glided from the branches above and landed softly between Glitch and the Lorock. It was the painted Barash who’d followed them into the village. It folded its wings and walked toward the Lorock, arms open as if it was going to give him a hug. Scowling, the Lorock lowered the sword.

  As the multicolored Barash approached, the Lorock let out a rapid series of low clicks and whistles. It responded by bowing slightly and making a soft trilling sound. The Lorock looked at Glitch, and his scowl deepened. He let out a short croak. The other Barash bowed again and gestured toward Glitch and the others.

  Glitch leaned toward Nen as the Barash chattered, chirping and trilling.

  “What’s it saying?” he whispered.

  “That is Melian—the Lorock’s daughter. Melian is insisting that you be allowed a trial.”

  “With a judge? That sounds better than summary execution.”

  Nen frowned and shook his head. “No, you must perform a trial. If you survive, you will be released back to the wild.”

  Glitch ran his fingers through his hair. He’d never been very good at tests. “Still better than summary execution, I guess.”

  Nen looked at Glitch. He didn’t look convinced.

  Melian had finished talking and was waiting while the Lorock conferred with the Barash who’d brought him the sword. As they talked, the sword-bearer glared at Glitch. It clearly liked a good sacrifice and didn’t want to be denied. Around the platform, the Barash waited patiently, watching the events unfold.

  Eventually, the Lorock nodded toward Melian. A ripple of excitement spread through the crowd. Melian turned to Glitch, wings rustling. She gestured to the guards standing behind them. They stepped forward and pulled Glitch and the others roughly to their feet. Melian pointed at Nen and chirped twice.

  Nen bowed slightly. “Melian wants me to turn her words for you.”

  Melian chirped. Her voice was soft, a marked contrast to the harshness of the Lorock’s.

  Nen listened while Melian spoke then translated for Glitch. “In the Lorock’s infinite and merciful generosity, our wisest one has decided that you should undergo the trial of the fallen. If you pass, you will be allowed to go free unharmed.”

  “What do we have to do in this trial?” said Anderson.

  Nen translated the question into the Barash’s staccato language, speaking aloud rather than through telepathy. Melian turned to Anderson and regarded her for a moment before replying.

  “Melian says you may choose. Trial by fire. Trial by earth. Trial by liquid,” said Nen.

  “Shouldn’t that be earth, wind, and fire?” asked Glitch.

  Anderson ignored him. “And if we refuse?”

  Melian listened to Nen repeat the question then gestured toward the sword in the Lorock’s hands.

  “It doesn’t seem like we have much choice,” said the doctor.

  Glitch nodded toward Melian. She bowed her head slightly then spread her arms wide. Her wings extended behind her, the feathers a wall of shimmering color.

  Melian let out a long screech, followed by a dozen rapid clicks. The excitement of the crowd grew. The Barash stamped their feet, flapped their wings, let loose rough, guttural cries. The noise echoed around the trees, reminding Glitch of a planet full of apes rather than a race of bird-people.

  As the noise died down, a gap opened in the crowd, and Melian gestured for them to follow her. She led them across the platform to a wide walkway. As they passed, the Barash unfurled their wings and lifted gracefully into the air. Under different circumstances, Glitch might have found the sight awe inspiring. As it was, it was simply terrifying.

  The walkway creaked and rocked as they traveled across it. Barash flew past them, dipping underneath the walkway one moment, swooping overhead the next. Glitch spotted the Lorock gliding ahead of them. He landed on another broad platform at the end of the walkway and stood, watching impassively.

  When they reached the platform, Melian gestured to them to wait. This one was also built around the trunk of a tree. It wasn’t as big as the first, but it was impressive in its own right.

  A wide shelf was attached to the tree. Three clay urns sat on the shelf, each one sealed with a wooden stopper. One was marked with a brown circle, another a red triangle, and the last with a white symbol that looked like an S laid on its side.

  Melian joined the Lorock, and they walked across the platform. They stood on either side of the shelf and faced Glitch and the others. Most of the crowd had followed them across the gap, but instead of standing on the platform, they landed in nearby trees or stayed on the walkways. Other than the Lorock and Melian, the platform itself was free of Barash.

  “This must be a sacred place,” said Zheng, sounding intrigued. “Or at least special in some way.”

  “Hopefully it’s special in a ‘let us get out of here alive’ kind of way,” said Glitch.

  Anderson didn’t join in the conversation, but Glitch saw her scanning the platform and the trees around it, looking for an opportunity to escape. Given her concerned expression, she evidently hadn’t found one.

  There was movement behind them, and the sword bearer landed on the platform. It shook its wings twice then bowed deeply to Melian a
nd the Lorock. The Lorock made a long whistling sound that rose and fell in pitch. The sword bearer bowed again then walked over to the shelf.

  “Now you must choose,” said Nen. “Fire, earth, or liquid.”

  “Any preferences?” said Glitch.

  “I don’t like the sound of fire,” said Anderson. “But other than that, your guess is as good as mine.”

  “I concur,” said Zheng.

  “Nen? Any ideas?” said Glitch.

  Nen shook his head.

  “Okay,” said Glitch. “Here goes. Eeny, meeny, miney, moe. Catch a Klingon by the toe. If he punches, let him go. Eeny, meeny, miney, moe.”

  “Catch a Klingon?” said Anderson.

  Glitch shrugged. “Liquid. Tell her liquid.”

  Nen made three low-pitched clicks, and the sword bearer removed the urn marked with white squiggles. It treated it with great reverence, holding it with just the tips of its fingers as it walked toward them.

  “What’s in there, Nen?” asked Glitch.

  “They call it… God’s Essence.”

  Glitch glanced at Nen, eyebrows raised. The So-lang had moved a couple of feet away, trying to distance himself from Glitch and the others. He looked terrified.

  Glitch thought for a moment then stepped forward and held out his hand. “Wait. Please.”

  The sword—now urn-bearer stopped. Melian raised her eyebrows in a look of amused surprise. The Lorock just looked angry.

  Glitch swallowed, suddenly very cold in the chill morning air. “Nen has nothing to do with this. He just happened to be in my… cage… cell… whatever.”

  Nen hissed quietly and backed away farther.

  “Translate that for me,” said Glitch, waving between Nen and the Barash carrying the urn.

 

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