by Jean Kilczer
Sophia took a breath. “He could've turned the hovair into a roller coaster!”
“That's what I'm thinking,” I said. I watched Joe approach our group as the people turned and walked toward their village.
“Some people,” Joe began, “you just can't reason with them. They refuse to leave and wait for the transports from a safe position!”
“Joe,” I said, “I don't think they're –”
“Are you all right?” he asked. “You look pale.”
“The tag you were talking to,” Chancey told Joe, “he hit Jules with a powerful…” He turned to me. “What do you call it?”
“A powerful tel probe,” Sophia said.
“While we were talking?” Joe asked.
I nodded. “It's not just that.”
“What the hell else?” Joe asked.
Huff sat by my side. “You do not look in the well,” he said, fished in his pouch and took out a candy bar. “This high fructose with wackos will help your liver.”
“Wachos?” Sophia asked.
“He means nuts,” I explained. I took the bar to be polite, unwrapped and it and took a bite. “Nuts.”
Joe shifted feet. “Then what is it, for God's sake, if it's not just that? Or do we have to wait for you to finish the candy bar?”
“I don't think they're really human,” I said as I chewed.
Gabby came back. “Was it his tel probe, Jules? Is that why you think they're not human?”
“More than the probe,” I told her. “We base our thinking on assumptions, preconditioning, feelings, motives, and other stuff.”
“Yes,” Gabby said, a fair superficial analysis." She glanced at the crowd of receding villagers. “What do you think they base it on?”
“They seem to form random images, Gab,” I said, “then they pluck the one they want and elaborate on it without a basis in memory or preconceptions.”
“How can that be,” Bat said. “They look so human.”
“I don't know,” I admitted. “Their thought patterns are very visual. I wonder if they…”
“What?” Joe asked. “Will you put down that damn candy bar?”
“If they can project images to us.” I stared at the villagers and chewed as they dispersed and entered the cottages. “Overlays of reality. I'm beginning to wonder if the cottages are overlays too.”
“Man,” Chancey said, “if they can do all that, ya gotta ask who they really are and why they're here.”
“That tag you were talking to, Joe,” I said, “he could have killed me with his tel power.”
Joe looked grim. “They want us to leave. You think that was a warning?”
“Could be,” I said. “I don't think the tall tag realized there was a tel among us until I probed. I'd love to know what goes on inside those cottages, or whatever they really are. Maybe doorways to –”
“Jules!” Sophia took my hand. “Tell me you're not thinking about sneaking into a cottage.”
“You don't want your lover boy to lie,” Chancey said, “now do you?”
She stared at me, waiting. “Tell me that's a stupid plan, Jules.”
“They didn't kill us when they could have,” I said.
“OK,” she answered lightly, “then I'm coming too.”
“No you're not!” I told her.
“How do you intend to stop me, dear?”
I pulled my hand away and shoved it into my pocket. “I'll flatten you with a tel probe if I have to, dear.”
“He's right, Sophia,” Joe said. “Equus is on the colonization list. If there's a viable intelligent race existing here, we may have to scrap this planet from the program. There are thousands of Terrans and people from alien races waiting for the Big Rush.”
“Besides that,” Bat said, “I think it's our duty to try an' warn these people, or whatever they are.” He looked back. “That bristra's moving mighty fast.”
“Spirit said winter would slow them down,” I told Bat. “But Gabby figured out that the little buggers have learned to huddle to stay warm.”
“Can't imagine,” Bat said, “how they gallop along in summer.”
“Joe, when Spirit destroys the bristra,” I said, “this race of aliens will go with it. Any being with a neo-cortex will be killed in Spirit's massive probe. Did you tell that tag you were arguing with about Spirit and his intentions?”
“I didn't have to. He told me that they would take care of the advancing root system and it was none of my damn business. He said to stay the hell out of the village!”
“What all are we dealin' with here?” Bat asked.
“That's what I intend to find out,” I studied the cottages, “when it gets dark.”
* * *
The sous chef had taken a hit when the hovair rolled. The ingredients door was bashed in. Only raw rice and beans would fit through the narrowed opening to be cooked. Not my favorite fare. We still had coffee, but no mock steak or mashed potatoes or mud pie. Damn! Well, at least our Southern medic Bat was enjoying this down-home Mom's cookin'.
“You missing the hog jowls?” Chancey hunched over the table in the hovair and asked Bat.
Bat chuckled. “You ain't lived, New York boy, until you've eaten roasted hog jowl bacon.”
“Nectar of the gods,” Chancey said. "Joe, put that on my list of things to do when we leave this frozen rock.
I sat back, sipped Earthbrew coffee while they bantered, and considered my plan to enter a cottage. “Chancey, you in on this invasion of the cottage?” I asked. “I could use another good man.”
He grinned his lopsided grin and patted his holster. “My stingler's charged, Superstar.”
The group was silent as I took my weapon from the holster and checked the battery. Fully charged. Once, on planet Syl' Tyrria, I'd forgotten to charge my stingler and when my grunithe mount Gretchen and I were attacked by a pack of hunting brawns, it was only Gretch's quick thinking that saved both our lives. Since then, I've been a bit compulsive about checking the stingler's battery. “She's good to go,” I told Chancey and holstered the weapon.
“I am also good to go,” Huff said from where he was trying to eat rice and beans with his front paw. There was more of it on the floor than in his stomach.
“All right, Huff,” I said, “we could use another good hand…uh, paw.”
Sophia slid me a worried look. “I suppose there's no use telling you to be careful.”
“Oh, you can tell him,” Joe said, “God knows, all you want.”
“Bubba,” Bat said softly to me, “I'm running out of medical supplies, so watch your derriere, OK? You too, Chancey.”
“Me three,” Huff said. “I will also watch my Terran cub's derriere.”
“You do that, fur ball,” Chancey said.
Gabby bit a nail. “Jules, what if you run into that awesome tel again? Are you prepared for that?”
“I don't know how to prepare for it, Gab.” I shrugged. “I'll play it by ear.” I got up and clipped a hand light to my holster, put on my jacket and zippered it, then wrapped my scarf and jammed on my ski hat.
Sophia followed me as I walked to the hatch. I turned and put my arms around her waist. “I'll be careful, Soph. Promise.”
She sighed. “Where have I heard that before?”
“I mean it.” I kissed her nose. “I've got a lot to come home to.”
She stared up at me. “Jules, you're everything I have. You're my lover, my friend, my whole family. When you smile at me, nothing else in all the worlds matters. When we're apart, nothing matters.”
I wiped a tear from her eyes with my thumb.
“Without you,” she said, “my life isn't worth a crusty's hollow shell.”
I smiled. Crusties were the crustaceans she caught and sold on planet New Lithnia to make a living.
“Coming, Jules?” Chancey said from the hatch.
“On my way.” I lifted Sophia's chin and kissed her lightly. “I'll be careful, Soph, promise.” I pressed her head to my chest and kissed
her hair. “I love you, woman,” I whispered. “I mean it.”
She looked up at me and her lips quivered. “Those are the words I want to hear for the rest of my life.”
“I'll make a note of it,” I said softly.
“C'mon, Romeo,” Chancey said, “before we run out of night.”
“Go.” Sophia pushed me gently away.
“Jules!” Gabby called.
“Yeah, kid?” I asked.
She just shrugged.
I winked at her and walked to the hatch.
Joe followed and put a hand on my shoulder. “Be careful, son. You too, Chancey. Shine your light skyward if things go bad. We'll pick you up.”
I nodded. “Thanks, Dad.”
Chancey, Huff and I jumped down to the snowy ground. The pool of yellow light from the craft was cut off as Joe closed the hatch.
The night was frigid. Snow slapped my face in gusts of wind that howled down from mountain passes. I hoped it would slow the bristra. I turned up my collar and shoved my hands into my pockets as we trudged toward the village. Huff, with his keen Vegan night vision, led the way.
While we walked, I raised my mental shields and imaged myself as a bee on a flower's petal, as I had learned from Star Speaker, my Kubraen tel instructor. I guided the bee like a tiny lifeline between the bulwarks of silken petals, down to stamens and into the pistil at the flower's core. It huddled there, safe from alien probes, or so Star Speaker had said. The tall man's probe had been powerful, but this time I'd be ready for it. Could I maintain my shields if he came after me with his tel? We'd find out.
The closest cottage had dark windows, shuttered from the inside. The back door was windowless and locked.
“Chance,” I whispered, “suppose you give me a hand up to the roof. Maybe I can listen from the chimney or look through a skylight.”
He hunched down and interlocked his hands. “Go for it.”
With Chancey's boost, I hoisted myself onto the low roof and moved quietly on all fours. Snow made the angled wood slippery. I held onto ridges as I looked for a chimney or a skylight. I found neither. How did they warm these structures, I wondered. They were certainly off the grid. In fact, there was no grid.
I began to slide and couldn't find a ridge to grasp. At the roof's edge, I jumped to the ground, near the front door. It swung open and I peered inside.
Darkness there. And sparks of blue lights that came and went like large fireflies.
A sudden tel-lock clamped down on my mind and pulled me toward the door. I imaged the protected bee and threw myself back onto the walk. “Chance!” I whispered. “Huff!”
They came around the building's corner. “Something's trying to pull me inside!” I reached for Chancey's extended hand. We grasped each other's wrists and he dragged me away from the door.
Huff stared into the black interior and growled, deep in his throat. He crouched.
“No, Huff,” I said as he sprang through the doorway. I heard his teeth snap and his long claws click on the floor. I got to my feet as he loped back out.
“Let's get out of here,” I said. “There's something that wants me in there pretty badly.”
As we trotted toward the hovair, I felt a ghostly presence, more a pressure, on my mind. “C'mon!” I said to my companions. We broke into a run. Blue sparks burst in tiny puffs around us as we headed toward the lights of the hovair. Something was trying to force down my shields. Was it to communicate or attack? I fought back and kept the shields up.
What was that ominous noise? That chitinous sound of bristra on the move? Roots like slithering snakes rose up to cover the hovair's lit windows and exterior lights as the root system swarmed over the craft.
I gasped and put out a hand to stop Chancey.
“Holy shit!” he exclaimed.
“They can't get inside, Chance. But neither can we.” I wiped snow from my face.
Chancey unholstered his stingler. “We'll burn the bastards off!”
“No. I tried it, when they attacked me and the Mafia tags. The roots surrounded us and stacked up like firewood. You can't burn through that. C'mon.”
“C'mon where?” Chancey asked.
“I don't know. Away from the roots. Huff, c'mon.”
“I am c'moning,” he said. “These creatures of air make the fur on my back stand up like icicles.”
We ran into the night, away from the roots, and away from our hovair. The strange blue lights sparked like small fireworks and I felt that pull again.
“They're tracking us, Chance.” I shivered, not only from the cold.
“Who is, man? Those blue lights?”
“I think so. Whatever tried to pull me into the cottage.”
It was dangerous to run in this frigid air and work up a sweat that would freeze and make us colder, but we had no choice. The bristra had sniffed us out and its eastern flank was rolling toward my group like a mass of writhing pythons. The blue lights swirled around us, leaving pale green streamers. Something was pounding at my mental shields and I was afraid I couldn't sustain them much longer.
My legs felt heavy as we ran uphill on loose snow and shale to escape the advancing roots. I was gasping for breath in the thin, oxygen-poor air. The muscles in my legs began to burn. My head throbbed and I felt nauseous. I heard Chancey breathing hard. How much longer could we keep up this pace? Only Huff covered ground in an easy lope on all fours.
I slipped and fell. When I tried to get up, I only made it to my knees. My arms and legs felt like lead. I was afraid to look back at the encroaching bristra, but the chitinous clamor of their carapaces jostling each other grew louder and filled the night.
Chancey came back, gasping for air, and helped me to my feet.
“I will carry you,” Huff told me.
“No, Huff,” I said. “I'll only slow you down. You can outrun them. Chancey. Go!” I took out my stingler and forgot to breathe. The red light blinked. NO CHARGE lit up.
“That's impossible!” Chancey said.
I shook my head and tried to catch my breath. “It's the aliens. They…they took control of the hovair. Now this.”
Chancey pulled out his stingler. He drew in a breath and stared at the red blinking light.
I got up, took a few steps, and sank to my knees. The shields weakened and a probe came through. Stay where you are. Do not move.
“Chance!” I said. “Whatever those lights are, they're telling us to stay put. I don't have a choice. You and Huff take off.”
Chancey sat down heavily in the snow. “How much further can we run, anyway?”
I rubbed my hands over my throbbing temples. I was shaking badly from the cold. “Huff, you can still outrun them. Save yourself.”
He came and sat beside me, and pulled me onto his warm, furry legs. He reached out a forearm and Chancey crawled on all fours and leaned against him.
“Gods of Kresthaven,” Huff said, “here are these three of us who tried hard to take the right path instead of the wrong path. Take us to your warm safe den in the sky now and keep us close to your liver.”
“Amen.” I watched the bristra approach. It began to stack and loomed high in the night air. There was no use calling on Spirit for help. He would have to kill us all to destroy his creation. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against Huff's chest. “Great Mind. Make it quick.” I pictured Lisa's face, laughing as she ate an ice cream cone at a county fair in Denver. “I love you, Lis',” I whispered, “better than anything else.”
I will deliver the message, Spirit sent.
Thank you, my friend.
The alien probe sent a sense of warmth and comfort. Was it a last merciful footnote in our lives before being torn apart by the bristra?
Blue lights swirled between us and the advancing roots. Lightning flashes suddenly laced the backs of the roots. They reared up, twisted, and flopped back down, exposing their bellies and teeth. Their long bodies twitched, sending up sheets of snow dust. Smoke rose from their spasming bodies. Shells cracked open. F
luid burst out in geysers and poured across the snow like a branching yellow river.
“That was too close!” Chancey exclaimed.
As far back as I could see in the curtain of swirling snowflakes, the roots were spasming and smoking. Some sprouted yellow flowers as they died. Tiny clawed legs raked the air in an attempt to escape their agony.
“Huff,” I said, “help me up.”
He held me as I leaned against him.
Chancey shook his head. “Sometimes it's hard to tell the friends from the enemies.”
I sent a light probe, calculated not to intrude but to show our gratitude to our saviors, whoever they were.
The hovair's lights rose through the snowy night. They had broken free of the dead roots. I unclipped my light and waved it skyward to catch their attention. The blue bursts blinked out. I lowered my shields and felt the presence within my mind withdraw.
“What's that light in the sky?” Chancey said.
“What do you mean?” I answered. “Our hovair.”
“No! The one in the Western sky.”
“Oh my God.” I backed up. “There's only one other ship on Equus.”
“The starship Searcher!” Chancey said.
“How the hell did they find us?” I asked.
“You want to hang around an' find out?”
“I think when the bristra was killed, their infrared sensors picked up the hovair. Get out of there, Joe!” I muttered.
We watched as our hovair banked to the east and fled into the night.
“Let's go!” Chancey exclaimed as Searcher turned its nose toward us. Lights raked fluttering snowflakes.
“They don't need lights to find us!” I started to run.
“Where to?” Chancey called.
“The cottage. It's our only hope. C'mon, Huff!”
We plowed through deep snow and my legs began to burn again. My lungs labored for air.
“Are you sure it's this way?” Chancey shouted.
I heard the ship's engines as it approached and lowered. “Maybe not. Huff, which way to the cottage?”
He pointed to our right. “That is the which way.”
“Why didn't you tell us,” I drew in a shuddering breath, “that we were going the wrong way?”
“You did not ask,” he said.
