by Gini Koch
CHAPTER 30
THE SCENERY WASN’T as monotonous as it was in the Purple Land. But the monotony of the Purple Land had been beautiful and serene. Well, mostly. You know, if I didn’t think about the snakipedes and dead giant chameleon carcasses.
The landscape here changed more than it did in the Purple Land, so to speak, with different plants, small trees, rocks, and more dotted all over, but it wasn’t as pretty. It also wasn’t as symmetrically laid out—no straight rows of plants as far as the eye could see here.
However, it was definitely rugged and, in that sense, far more random. More like I was used to wild land being. Frankly, the Bronze Land reminded me a lot of Arizona and New Mexico, though much redder, browner, and so on. The colors on this planet were incredibly vivid.
The bosthoon actually did get up to something faster than a slow walking speed—it just took them a while. A good thirty minutes by my watch. But we were at least trundling along and might have a hope of getting somewhere before we had to stop for the night.
Of course, my watch was useless for telling the real time. I had a guess for what time it was at home on Earth, but that wasn’t going be much help here. As far as I could tell in the time we’d been here, the days were longer than ours. But since it hadn’t occurred to me to pay attention to my watch pretty much until I was bored with how slowly we were going, I really had no guess for an easy way to determine it. Decided to leave that to Chuckie. More his bailiwick anyway.
My iPod had turned off the moment “Everyday Superhero” was over, meaning Algar either wanted me to save the battery or felt I needed no musical clues right now. Or my iPod was freaked out by being on an alien planet. Chose to go with Theories Number One and Two.
Not that I minded all that much. I’d missed my husband a lot and we really hadn’t had much relaxed alone time together. Sure, a catapult wagon didn’t scream “romantic ride” but it was calm right now, and that meant we could just relax a little and be ourselves, so to speak.
Based on the map, we’d run into Jeff and the Lecanora closer to the All Seeing Mountain, aka The Center of the World, than where they’d been when Jeff had landed in front of them. Which was good, because it meant both less travel time for us and an easier path into the other lands for Chuckie and Christopher.
Most of the lands had no border patrols and no restrictions upon entering or exiting. The exceptions were the Green Land—because that’s where the Lecanoras’ king resided—and the Black Lands—so named because they were made of sharp, black volcanic rock which, per Skunky, whose people were from that part of the world, made traveling there somewhat dangerous. Skunky had a name, but I’d slipped and called him Skunky when we were looking at his wagon and he’d taken that as a special name from Shealla and so now everyone was required to call him Skunky.
“Have you noticed how unpopulated this planet seems to be?” I asked Jeff as we headed for a large outcropping of rocks that we were hoping to reach before dark.
“Depends on what you consider the population, I guess. You said the area you landed in had katyhoppers and other life-forms.”
“Yeah, it did, but it was still remarkably . . . serene. So is this part. I mean, you didn’t mention running into any other Lecanora on your way to meet up with us.”
“No, these were the only people I saw. I guess we were both lucky to land near sentient beings who could help.”
“I have absolutely no belief in luck like that. First of all, our luck just plain doesn’t run that way. And second of all, seriously, if we’re in the deserted parts of this world, it’s one heck of a coinkydink that not only Chuckie, Christopher, and I landed right by the katyhoppers, but that you landed right by these Lecanora.”
“Do you think that means the others might have landed near people who could help them?”
“Maybe, yeah.”
“Ah, do you think ACE or . . . Jamie had anything to do with that?”
“I’d like to think so, yeah, but I don’t have a good guess.” This was a total lie. I had a really good guess. ACE had to feel that he was being watched, based on the fact that the Superconsciousness Supreme Court had paid him a visit during Operation Defection Election. That meant he’d be keeping himself, Jamie, and Gower safe. And sure, he’d have made sure we all landed without dying somewhere. And if I hadn’t had my purse with me, I’d have bought the ACE theory all the way.
But I did have my purse. And every one of us had Poofs on Board, per Harlie. Meaning Algar or, more likely, the Poofs on his suggestion, were helping us in ways we couldn’t notice.
The question was simple: why?
That Algar liked the A-Cs in general and me in particular had been established. However, he was hiding out on Earth and his dedication to his own personal Free Will Manifesto was pretty impressive.
Meaning there had to be a lot more to all of this than we knew. And that meant there was likely to be a direct threat to Alpha Four, because that was the planet and those were the people Algar had been with for millennia.
Algar had told me that he was responsible for allowing Mephistopheles to destroy his entire solar system, which was against the Black Hole Universe Rules. This was why Algar was a fugitive, and he didn’t want to be caught, tried, and put into a sensory deprivation prison for eternity. Could not blame him.
But he was also trying to fix or rectify that mistake in some way, and I had to guess that unrest in this solar system wasn’t something he’d want. For a variety of reasons, not wanting to bring yet more attention to our backwater part of the galaxy being the biggest.
And I point-blank knew it was Algar who’d arranged our landings because I desperately wanted to talk to Jeff about all of this and I couldn’t. The words literally would not leave my mouth.
Algar being this involved was a rarity. So whatever was coming, he wanted us here, and he wanted us prepared to do something to save the day or similar.
I’d figured out how to kind of work around the whole “Algar won’t let me share” thing. It took a heck of a lot of mental and verbal gymnastics, but we had the time and I more than had the desire.
“Jeff, why do you think we’re on this planet?”
“Honestly? I think it’s a mistake. Like the three of you worked out—whoever was trying to pull us elsewhere, maybe Alpha Four, maybe Beta Twelve, maybe somewhere else, they had some kind of malfunction. Something went wrong in some way and we landed here. Better here than in outer space.”
“Yeah. Only . . .”
“Only?” Jeff shifted to look at me. “You think we were meant to come here?”
“I think there has to be more to where we landed than meets the eye.”
He cocked his head at me. “I know you think we couldn’t have been lucky twice, but it’s not out of the realm of possibility. Coincidences do happen, even to us.”
“Yeah, I know. Two isn’t enough of a sample to be sure.” I was about to mention that three would indicate a pattern, but before I could we were interrupted. And not by Christopher and the others coming back.
All the chochos were bark-honking, Wilbur included.
At nothing. At least, nothing I could see.
CHAPTER 31
BUT I COULD HEAR. And it sounded like whooping. Familiar whooping.
Looked up in the sky. Sure enough, there were things flying around up there. Based on my experience and the total weirdness of this world, what they were wasn’t a surprise. Or rather, who.
The Lecanora, of course, were racing to toss ocellars into catapults. When we had a moment, I was going to have a severe Shealla Does Not Like This chat with them. I knew Ginger would approve this chat—trained for flying into the air to kill Horrible Snakipedes or not—because she was cuddling against me even harder than she had been.
But Jeff had seen what I had, too.
“Stop!” he bellowed. No one could bellow like my man, and I had to
assume he had a lot of pent-up bellowing, based on the last month or so of our lives, let alone our current situation. “They are not enemies! No catapults! No attacks!”
The Lecanora froze in their tracks. Apparently, when the Top God bellowed, the Lecanora listened.
So the five giant flying ostrich-pterodactyls were able to land safely. Which was nice, because each one of them had a flyboy riding as either pilot or copilot. Wasn’t sure if the ostrich-pterodactyls were of a high sentience level or not yet. Right now, though, my bet was for high.
The flyboys’ mounts had ostrich bodies, legs, and necks, but their wings, though covered with feathers, were pterodactyl sized and shaped. Their feet and heads were really combos of both things, though, with more emphasis on pterodactyl in the head—particularly in terms of elongated beaks and eyes set more in front, like predators’ were, rather than to the side, like prey—and more ostrich in the feet. Unlike ostriches and what we figured pterodactyls looked like, their skin was a light lemon yellow and their feathers were literally neon yellow, with neon orange and red highlights. It was like the flyboys were all on predatory Big Birds. Yep, they were a Planet Colorful species.
As the flyboys dismounted, I gently moved my current menagerie off my lap—Wilbur had followed Ginger’s lead and snuggled much closer than before—and trotted over. Humans didn’t group hug as much as the A-Cs did, but we made an exception in this case and had a big group huddle hug.
“I was so worried about you guys,” I said when we unclenched and Jeff grabbed each of them individually for hugs. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Jerry said with a grin. “We are. We lucked out and landed with the strautruch.”
“Really? That’s what the ostrich-pterodactyl Big Birds call themselves?” What was I complaining about? I traveled with Poofs, after all, and Lecanora was no better or worse.
“Yeah,” Walker said, as he patted the one he’d been riding. “They’re great. They can’t really speak in a language we can understand.”
“But they can draw pictograms,” Hughes added. “And they can understand us just fine.”
Pictograms meant sentience. Understanding extremely foreign languages meant a higher intelligence, though if I had a universal translator chip, so did the flyboys. Only I was sure they’d known about theirs since they’d been installed.
“We were lucky,” Joe said. “We landed in one of their empty nests.”
Randy nodded. “Really lucky. They nest on the tops of mountains. They aren’t all that high, at least most of them.”
“But if their nests weren’t large and we didn’t land just right, we’d be toast,” Jerry said.
Looked at Jeff. “Coinkydink is now out of the question.”
He nodded. “I agree, baby. Someone wants us here, and in specific places.”
“No argument,” Joe said. He looked around. “Uh, where are the others?”
Randy was looking, too. Both of them now looked worried, and no wonder. Their wives had been taken and were nowhere in evidence. And I had no answer that was going to make them feel any better.
“Not with us. Chuckie, Christopher, and I landed with the katyhoppers,” I indicated Pinky. “Chuckie and Christopher, along with the katyhoppers who’ve let them ride on their backs, are off checking out the planet and searching for the rest of our team. Did you see them? Because I kind of assumed they’d told you where we were.”
Hughes shook his head. “The strautruch elders suggested that some of their younger members help us search for the rest of our people.”
“So we were flying around and spotted dust flying up,” Walker said. “Figured that meant something or someone was down here, so we flew closer to take a look.”
The Big Bird that Walker had been riding scratched in the dirt. Took a good look.
“Aha. That’s the All Seeing Mountain, isn’t it?”
It bobbed its head, just like Bruno did. Then it scratched some more, nudged its head toward Jeff, then me, then the flyboys.
Looked around for King Benny, who was waiting nearby, and motioned him over. “King Benny, who are they?” I pointed to the flyboys.
“They are the Winalla, the flying warriors of the Gods.” He sighed. “Still you test me, Shealla.”
“Just because I know you’ll always pass the tests.” Looked back to the pictograms while Jeff quietly and quickly brought the flyboys up to speed on our Godhoods. “So, the strautruch also have a history of, ah, Gods like us? Or visitors like us?”
Pinky joined us, antennae focused on the Big Birds. They, in turn, gave him their full attention. And then they all bowed to him. Deeply. In the same way that the Lecanora had bowed to us.
“Mind catching me up on what’s going on?” I asked Pinky quietly.
He waved his antennae at me.
“Interesting. Excuse us all, for just a minute,” I said to King Benny and the Big Birds. “Please talk amongst yourselves—we’re all headed for the same place, by the way. King Benny, the strautruch are as smart as your people are, so work at the understanding, please.” Pulled Jeff and the flyboys aside. Pinky came with us. “Okay, Pinky just had an interesting talk with the strautruch.”
“How?” Randy asked. “They didn’t speak, and they didn’t draw.”
Well, no time like the present. “The katyhoppers can read minds. And, frankly, so can Chuckie, Christopher, and I right now. Something in the water or food or whatever in the Purple Land.”
“I’ve never flown faster than we did over the purple part,” Jerry said. “They told us it was a forbidden area.”
“I think it’s forbidden because that’s where the mind-reading life-forms and mind-reading food source are, but that’s not important now. Well, it is, but not what I’m trying to tell all of you. The strautruch know of the katyhoppers. They worship them as demigods on the planet—that’s why they avoid the Purple Lands, so as to not offend them. But the strautruch, like the rest, consider all of us to be the embodiment of millennia-old God legends. We’re all fitting into the assigned God roles perfectly, too. Which is weird beyond belief, but probably a reason we were sent here.”
“Do the katyhoppers consider us Gods?” Jeff asked.
Pinky waved antennae.
“No, they do not. They’re really clear that we’re aliens from another world. Their Matriarchs are also really clear that other worlds exist, and that they’re populated. Look, what I’m trying to say, among other things, is that the top sentient life-forms on this planet are not the Lecanora, though that’s what I think all of the rest of the system has decided, because they’re bipedal and have wagons and a civilization we can all relate to. But the top minds on Planet Colorful belong to the katyhoppers.”
Everyone stared at Pinky. Who, despite not being able to blush, still managed to look embarrassed.
“So,” Jeff asked slowly, “what does that mean for us or for what’s going on?”
Was about to share my thoughts when Christopher appeared out of nowhere. “Everyone’s fine,” he said quickly. “At least right now. Hey, guys, good to see you,” he said to the flyboys.
“Why are you back already? Did you find the others?” I asked.
“I’m back because we’ve found good shelter. Chuck and the others are there. And we need to get this caravan to that shelter as fast as possible, because there are at least twenty snakipedes heading this way.”
CHAPTER 32
“THE FLYBOYS AND PINKY can get to shelter fast. But there’s no way that we can get this caravan anywhere faster than tortoise pace. Trust me. It took the bosthoon thirty minutes to get up to faster than a Sunday Afternoon Stroll speed.”
Christopher looked at Jeff. “I think we can carry a wagon each, if we do it together.”
“Not with the bosthoon attached you can’t,” I said. “They’re big, heavy, and unwieldy.”
“Then we unhook
them and get them if we’re able to,” Christopher replied briskly. “They’re the lowest sentience life-forms we’re traveling with, and that means they’re the last to be taken care of.”
Jeff nodded. “I agree. Let’s give it a shot. Kitty, I think the ocellars and chochos can go a lot faster than the bosthoon can. If Christopher and I really can move the wagons, you and Pinky lead the animals while we get the Lecanora to safety.”
“Okay.” It wasn’t, but I knew they were right—we had to get the majority to safety first. Then I could worry about the slowest. “Keeping in mind that I have no idea where safety is.”
Toby popped its head out of Christopher’s pocket, mewed, and leaped onto Pinky’s head. “Aha, never mind. Poof at the wheel. Okey dokey.” Ran over to King Benny. “Binalla has identified a terrible threat. We’re going to move your people to safety much faster than you’re used to. You need to unhook the bosthoon, get everyone into their wagons, and ensure that they all stay put until one of us tells them it’s okay to get out. I’m taking the chochos and ocellars with me.”
“What about the bosthoon?” he asked, sounding worried. “Not only are they our transportation, but they have no real natural defenses.”
“Leave that to me. Just get your people doing what we need, as fast as possible.”
He nodded and trotted off to get his people moving.
I ran back to the others. The flyboys were already mounted up. Kissed Jeff hard. “Get yourself to safety, too, please.” Then I went to Pinky, mounted up, and whistled. “All ocellars and chochos, follow Shealla Kitty!”
Interestingly enough, Ginger roared, and the ocellars formed up right behind Pinky, adults holding young ones too small to run fast in their mouths. The chochos, on the other hand, weren’t doing so well. Until Wilbur bark-honked louder than I’d thought possible.
It was as if he’d given them the Line Up and March order, because they fell in faster than the ocellars had. As with the ocellars, any chochos too young to run fast were being carried, but on the adults’ backs. Decided now wasn’t the time to argue or question. “Pinky, my friend, let’s fly low and as fast as the slowest of these animals can run.”
