Earth Rising (The Planets)

by James Garvey

  Theo hands me another piece of fruit. “Amy, these little ones from the woods at home. Are they around now?”

  “No. I haven’t seen them-“ I consider telling them I saw the green people in Flip’s mountain village and then think better of it. “I haven’t seen one since before the siege on our village. Besides, they’re very tiny and timid. I can’t see them being able to fight. Look all, I’ll do everything I can to fight Thresh and her monsters. But I’m guessing that more of that fog’s moving down the mountain and will help her build her army. If there’s anything that’s going to stop it, the people at the ship will have the answer.”

  The trout’s cooked and Samuel doles it out to each of us. The camp’s silent while we devour our food. English finishes first. “What’s up in that mountain making that deathly fog?”

  I sigh. “Whatever it is, we can’t let Thresh get to it. We’ve got to get there first and stop it.” If there ever were a time for a visit from Fromer, this would be the time. It’s becoming clearer to me that Thresh is using Eliza as bait for me - something I must resist, fighting every instinct I have. My blood stops at the thought that Thresh might end up raising my daughter if anything happens to me.

  Night falls and I’m feeling guilty. The others are taking turns at the watch while I lay here in the center of camp by a small fire. We’ve decided to stay here one night then move haphazardly, trying to cover our tracks as best as possible. We could ride hard toward the space vessel, but Theo’s afraid that this would ruin my leg. He’s right, making me feel even more sheepish and needy. I’m afraid to sleep, given what I might find in there. Thresh is looking for me, I know it. And even if she’s not there, I can’t bear to see my mother gutted by the dogs once more.

  English is out of shine, which we’re all experiencing with mixed feelings. He’s lucid and alert, ensuring that he’ll not let us down during watch. On the other hand, he’s morphed into a throbbing asshole. This transformation occurred shortly after he lobbed his last bottle into the woods. We’ll be traveling near a small village tomorrow morning. I suspect he’ll be able to raid their liquor stores. Until then, we have to contend with his nasty comments and hope that he doesn’t wank out.

  I close my eyes and clearly see Wenn, father, and Eliza playing on the floor of our home. A fire’s blazing and someone’s playing fiddle in the town commons. I shake myself awake to find Theo stroking my hair and singing a lullaby softly, the same one he often sang to Eliza after Wenn and father disappeared.

  “That’s nice Theo, thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it Sprouter. Why didn’t you tell me about the green beans in the woods before?”

  “You mean beings, right? Well, first I didn’t think anyone would believe me. Only my mother and I could see them. And second, mother told me that they were an important secret that I needed to protect. She never said it straight out, but I think that she was worried that others might try to exploit or corrupt our abilities. From what I can see of Thresh, she was right. There are others out there, Theo.”

  “Whatcha mean, others, Amy?”

  “Philip, the boy. He was like me and Thresh.”

  Theo stops stroking my hair. “Flip? I don’t understand.”

  “The reason his village was destroyed was because he could see the little ones like me. He also was able to see the fog and perhaps see into the future. I’m thinking that there is a being moving out there, manipulating Thresh. It thought Flip was a threat and wanted to stop him. Same with Eliza and me. If it wasn’t for you all, we’d be gone. This thing’s evil.”

  “You think we’re up against the devil?”

  “Hell if I know.” I chuckle dryly at the pun and wince at the pain in my head. “There’s so much out there that we can’t comprehend. Troll made that clear to us.”

  Theo strokes my hair again. “Amy, you need to sleep. It’s the only way you’re going to heal.”

  “Sleep. Sounds good if you can promise I won’t end up in a grub or fighting with Thresh.”

  “At the least, try to rest.” The stroking is rhythmic and irresistible. In a short moment, I’m opening my eyes to morning light. No dreams for me.

  “Time to mount up,” Bets announces.

  “Shove it up your arse,” English replies groggily. “I’m not going anywhere until I get something to eat.”

  Bets tosses a chunk of jerky at English. “Shut it, jack ass. We’ll find you some shine today. I like you better drunk.”

  We’re on horseback and my leg’s throbbing. It’s not looking good. I hope the people from space have some medicine. Otherwise, I might be losing that appendage.

  We near the small town. Thankfully, there’s no sign that it’s been molested by Thresh and her menagerie. Bets, Theo, and English go in, while Samuel and I hide in a nearby woodlot. Samuel helps me prop against a cottonwood. He searches for some herbs and flowers while I examine the houses and fields below me. The dwellings are tidy and well kept. A few children play near the west wall, while a farmer tills a small plot, his lumpy ox lazily dragging its plow. By this time at home, if home still existed, the harvest would have been completed, the fruits and vegetables preserved, and the winter crops peeking up. Here, so far south and near the ocean, a lucky gardener could plant crops at least three times a year. I’d love to walk down, grab a handful of soil, and feel its goodness crumble between my fingers. Instead, I’m stuck here, with every one of my movements causing considerable pain.

  “I’m back, Amy.” Samuel opens his satchel, a cornucopia of flower petals, leaves, seeds, and roots spill out before me. He fetches my mortar and pestle - an heirloom that extends back to my family’s distant past. I take each item, taste it to test its strength, and then add it in careful amounts to the mash. Once finished, I place the paste under my tongue and relief surges to my feet and toes.

  “Now, Samuel, if you don’t mind, I’d like for you to search for one more thing.”

  “Anything, my girl.”

  “At the roots of many of the Crenshaw elms around here you’ll find a small, black fungus. I need you to gather as much as possible. It’ll help me fight the infection in my leg.” Samuel’s off before I turn back toward the bucolic scene before me. The paste’s set in nicely. I’ve concocted enough to keep me feeling comfortable for the next couple of days.

  A magpie lands on a branch near me, examining me with its glossy coal eyes. The bird seems as if it knows who I am and what I represent. Perhaps it's the paste I've ingested, but I swear it's trying to communicate.

  "Hi bird. What do you want?"

  It cocks its head and my vision blurs. Suddenly, I'm in the air, soaring over the village. Apparently, I can possess magpies as well as insane women and alien beings. Its wings shudder in the warm breeze and I send it down into the town center. Colors swirl as the bird moves its head. Theo's surrounded by perhaps fifty villagers dressed in brightly colored clothes unlike any I've seen in my part of the world. The buildings in this part of the town mimic the clothing, each adorned in wonderful shades of blue, red, and yellow.

  "Listen folks, I'm serious about what we're facing." Theo's clearly grabbed their attention. "We have a common enemy and it’s growing and relentless. If a fog of brown mist approaches your town, you're gonna have to leave mighty fast. Take only what you need."

  As Theo continues his message of gloom, I direct the bird eyes around, seeing no sign of English or Bets. I decide to look for them. The bird flies to the town commissary, where I find English quite drunk, slumped in a bench. Bets is inside haggling with a trim, silver-haired man over a sack of provisions, including a ruby-colored shine I've never seen before. The issue is over price. Bets offers him a handful of gems from Theo's stash and the argument ends. I follow Bets and English as they rejoin Theo.

  A town elder, clearly one of the most revered given the fine quality of her dress, stares at Theo, piercing him with a skeptical eye. "Stranger, how are we to believe your stories are true? You be seeming a bit touched, if you ask me." The crowd
laughs. She looks at English, who's staggering and singing to himself. "The company you're keeping's not helping any."

  Theo blushes, clearly needing help. I direct the magpie to fly a few loopy circles around his head and then land on his shoulder. The crowd falls silent. Theo's surprised but maintains his composure. I fly the magpie to a bale of hay and gather a beakful of dried grass blades and sticks. I drop them on the bare, sandy earth and use them to fashion the word, BELIEVE. Gasps and chatter rise up from the crowd. English regains his sobriety, looking at the spectacle with clear bemusement. They're ready to listen to Theo. Before I fly the bird back to me, I see Bets shaking her head and I clearly interpret one word on her lips - Marksman.

  "Amy, darlin’. Wake up." Samuel’s clutching a fistful of dry, black fluff. “Is this what you were looking for?”

  “Yes, thanks Samuel.” I prepare the material and chew on a small amount. It’ll slow the spread of the infection but won’t reverse it. The magpie hasn’t left. It sits in a nearby tree preening itself. If I end up crippled, perhaps I can keep moving freely via the emancipation of bird brains.

  Theo and English return on the heels of the day. English is clearly washed out and heads for bed. Theo saunters up and sits beside me. “Amy, have you got something to tell me?”

  “About what Theo? I’ve been sitting here all day.”

  “Are you sure about that? Done any flying lately?”

  “Yes, I’ve added possession of birds to my list of abilities. You were looking like you were in some trouble down there. Thought I’d help with a little magic.”

  “Thanks for that. Everyone’s wary of strangers. And for us to come trotting in with stories about fog and monsters - I’d bet they were ready to jail us. English wasn’t helping either.”

  “What happened after I – the bird – left?”

  “They supplied us. Bets is still down there finishing loading a cart. We’ll pull it with Flip’s horse. Those people were mighty generous. I hope they survive Thresh.”

  “They’ll fare well as long as they don’t have someone like me or Thresh among them. She doesn’t seem to be raising an army, yet. If she does, gods help their young men. Did you make sure to make no mention of us?”

  “Of course.”

  Bets arrives at the top of the hill with a sizeable cart filled with provisions. She’s in a foul state. I remark, “She seems darker than usual. What happened to her down there?”

  Theo sighs. “I think she’s troubled about home. It’s hard for all of us to see this community and realize we lost ours. Don’t you feel the same way?”

  “Theo, the difference is that you’re all being dragged to help me find my family while you’ve all lost most of yours. It’s not fair.”

  “Sprouter, relax. There’s bigger things afoot for all of us.”

  “I’m not sure Bets would agree. Maybe you should tell her it’s okay to leave us.”

  Theo huffs. “It’s not okay for her to leave.”

  I decide to leave it be.

  After we eat dinner in silence, Samuel reappears from the woods. “Where’ve you been, Sam?” Theo asks.

  Samuel is agitated, his eyes bulging. “I saw something back there. It, him, was taller than anything I’d seen before. Black, thick skin. And glowing. No breath or hair that I could see. Big, dark eyes- no whites. You reckon it’s got something to do with that Thresh woman?”

  My mind races. Could Fromer be here in the woods with us?

  “Samuel, are you sure you’re not seeing things out there?” Theo asks. “It’s been a long day. Maybe you saw one of the villagers who’s curious about us.”

  “Theo, no. This was something real strange out there. It ran away once I spotted it. Left big footprints.”

  "Things just get stranger around here," Theo muses. "Samuel, I believe you. Sprouter what you thinking?"

  "I think that Samuel saw someone. If you're wondering whether I know anything about it, the answer's no. I've not had any visions of giant black creatures wandering the woods." I wonder why I’m lying to him. I feel as if Fromer put a spell on me, keeping me from talking about him. Of course, I did tell Wenn at father's urging. Perhaps I'm worried that Theo will suffer the same fate as father and Wenn if I tell the truth. Fromer might take Theo away from me and that'd be unbearable.

  I wonder why Fromer's here and why he's suddenly decided to make himself visible. I'm also perplexed and frankly annoyed that he's not appeared before me. Given what's happened, he has some explaining to do. He didn't warn me about Thresh. And I wonder what other dangers await us.

  Bets pulls out a flask of grape wine and passes it around. "The villagers make this from grapes grown along the coast. It's good. I propose a toast to our recent adversary - the black demon of the woods."

  "How certain are we that this thing is bad?" I ask.

  "Marksman, how often has anything we've encountered been good so far?" Bets responds. "Safer for us to assume the worst. As for hoping for something better, I've given up on hope."

  Samuel drains the bottle. "Amy, I've got to agree with Bets on this one. We need to be cautious. I'll take first watch." He glances at English. "I'll rouse the lush later tonight."

  I'm not particularly worried about Fromer's safety, but just in case I say, "You'll be sure to not fire on the stranger unless he's dangerous?"

  Bets looks at me curiously. "Why're you so concerned about the safety of a prowler?"

  "Just want to be sure we don't hurt some curious villager. They've been mighty generous. And, I don't know about the rest of you, but I've had enough of death."

  "I'll be careful, Amy. Quit worrying and get to sleep." Samuel wraps himself in a blanket and flips off the safety of a short range firearm that Troll called a pulse shotgun - a weapon with no mercy. It hums as it powers up.

  Morning arrives with no further sightings of Fromer or his twin. We pack up and begin moving slowly along the coastal plain, tracking back frequently to hide our trail. My leg's tight and throbbing, but the pain's dulled. The infection is no worse but neither is it receding. I'm running a slight fever and my mouth's dry sand. Midday, we stop at a new camp, overlooking a deep river valley. We'll have to find a way across the water tomorrow. If it was spring, the gorge would be swollen with snow melt from the mountains. This time of year, we should be able to find a shallow riffle.

  English returns from hunting, uncharacteristically out of breath. "Well, I'll be damned. Samuel was right. I was tracking a doe when I felt something tracking me. I tried acting coy - you know, like I wasn't privy to my tracker. It kept following me and I ditched it behind a thicket. Got a good gander at it. Big, black. Head like a bug." He shakes his head and gulps something that looks like lamp oil. "It looked around and I swear it saw me through the briars. It smiled, pressed a button on its sleeve, and shot straight up in the trees. Scared the crap outta me and I ran right back here."

  "Thresh? You think she's got something to do with this?" Bets throws her knife at a tree.

  "Don't think so." Theo pulls out his tablet and examines the area. "I don't see anyone but us on this thing. Dunno how far it can see, though."

  The magpie returns, landing on Phineus' back. I'm the only one that seems to notice. I close my eyes and I'm suddenly looking back at myself from the vantage of my horse. My body's slumped on a blanket. Theo's nudging me. "Amy, what's the matter? Wake up."

  I fly the magpie around my body and Theo nods his head in understanding. "Why, hello Amy. I suggest you fly around and let us know whether you see our guest."

  Flying is exhilarating and so natural. I gain altitude and use my heightened magpie senses to search for a giant black beast named Fromer. Not far from our camp, I spot a thick, glowing, steel-black creature sitting in a patch of grass, leaning against a tree stump. He's munching on something in a silver pack. He looks like Fromer, but is clearly different in stature. His skin is darker and his head's completely bald. I land the bird on a nearby branch and examine his face and clothing. Fromer's fac
e had familar, human-like qualities. This creature is more insect-like, although not at all frightening. He's wearing clothes that look much like Bets' hunting garb, except it is fashioned from some exotic leather, with metal buttons. He seems happy in a buggy sort of way.

  He looks right at me. In a raspy, deep voice, he says, "Hello bird, or should I say, fellow traveler."

  I wonder whether he's lonesome and taken to talking to animals or whether I've been found out. He then appears in the void of my mind - the same place that Thresh and I quarreled what seems like years ago.

  "I am called Etch. Who are you?"

  "Where's Fromer?" I ask.

  The creature’s silent for what seems to be a lifetime. "Excuse me? Did you say Fromer?"

  "Yes, I did. I assume you know who he is. You seem related."

  "Well, I will be ever surprised. This cannot be a coincidence. Fromer is a very old friend. He seems to have been busy. It is time for me to visit you and your companions. We have important business."

  “Before I lead you back to camp, I’d like some answers.”

  “I can answer all your questions in time. What’s your name?”

  I hesitate. “Amy Marksman.”

  “Well, Amy Marskman. I am like you. I can see things that elude others. I can read minds occasionally. And I have the ability to pilot star ships.”

  Beautiful blue, white, and yellow stars fill my mind and I know I can trust this creature.

  I'm back in the magpie, flitting from tree to tree, and Etch follows me toward our camp. He moves effortlessly across the terrain, as if he would float away if he leapt higher. I'm back at camp in no time, with Etch a few minutes behind. I reluctantly retake my body. The pain's worsening and the swelling has risen in my leg. I sit up to everyone's surprise. "Listen to me. The creature's coming. Don't be alarmed and whatever you do, don't fire." I give Bets a stern look.

  Etch appears at the edge of camp, with Samuel and Bets swinging around and pointing their weapons. A shot fires from English's rifle, as I try to stand and block him. My leg gives out and I fall forward. Strangely, Etch seems unharmed, sparks swirling before his chest. He's holding a strange, glowing, staff-like weapon with a humming blade on its end. In his thick, throaty drawl, he says, "What kind of greeting is that, my friends?"