Planets Falling

by James G. Scotson

  Bets kicks a clod of dirt. “Apparently, we’re not the only victims of this horseshit monster attack. Kid did your village have someone special?” She looks directly at me.

  “What you mean lady? I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Was there someone who tended your gardens? Had gifts? Like they could see the future, grow anything anywhere, catch animals without effort? Someone who got special attention and was treated better than anyone else?”

  “No, but, we had visitors here – two men – that wore strange clothes like yours from down the mountain. More than three seasons ago. They were traveling with a tall, cloaked man who did not enter our town. We only let them stay here for a few days before they left early one morning with no warning and no provisions. My parents and the other grown-ups said they brought ill will to us. After that, we didn’t allow any strangers in. Not that it matters no more.”

  My stomach flipped. Wenn, father, and perhaps Fromer had been here. I knew it. “What’s your name?”

  He runs his hands through his thick black hair. “My name’s Philip, although the town people and my folks mostly call me Flip. We’ve got to hide. I can feel when the fog’s coming. The grown-ups always relied on me to let them know when to be ready.”

  It dawns on me that Flip is the special one. I can feel it in him. The green one I saw over the death pit wasn’t there for me. It’s with him.

  Theo regains control. “Flip, this fog. You’re saying that it’s to blame for the..." He stops to think of a gentle way to ask. “The loss of your people? How’d the fog do this to them?”

  Again, Flip looks as if he is being asked a stupid question. “The fog turns into monsters. The monsters kill and eat us. Simple.”

  We consider this for a spell, reflecting on the similar events that destroyed our town. I take the boy by the hand. “Flip. Show me your town. We’ve been traveling hard for the past couple of days and we're tired, hungry, and cold. Can you show us where we can get some warmer clothes and food?”

  “Follow me,” he says pulling me toward the largest building. “We stored stuff in here.”

  Once we are beyond ear-shot of the others my interrogation begins. “Flip, tell me the truth. Could you always see the little green creatures? You, know what I’m talking about don’t you?”

  Flip’s eyes widen as he scratches his head. “You see the greenlings? I thought my mother and me were the only ones.”

  I smile sadly. “Well, I thought only girls could see them. What did your mom do?”

  “First, I’m no girl. About my mom, she tended to the forest. My family’s loggers and millers. We produce the best wood in these parts. Our mill is about a mile from here, along the ridge. I went there after the fog lifted, but no one’s there. My dad and brother went missing at the mill. My mom –“ He looks over at the root cellar door.

  I change the subject. “Flip, show me where the provisions are.” He shows me shelves of preserved vegetables, jerky, hardtack, cheese, and even some salted fish. Barrels of ale and wine extend into the shadows These people were prepared for a siege. After that, he leads me to his family’s house, where he opens an enormous cedar chest full of his mother’s winter clothes. This breaks my heart.

  “Mom’s got no use for them anymore. I’d hate to see them go to the moths.” No tears. Just a matter of fact.

  “Thank you so much.” I eagerly wrap myself in a knitted sweater and pull on some thick socks. The perfume of his mom mixed with fragrant cedar wafts from the box and the clothes.

  That evening, we feast on our first solid meal in three days. We try to be sensitive to the boy and curb our jubilation. Still, it's pretty obvious that we're enjoying ourselves. English is drunk from downing an entire flask of potent honey wine he found in one of the houses. We all have raided the houses for clothes, blankets, and a few comforts such as a sack of hard licorice candy. Flip doesn’t seem to mind.

  Theo comes up to Flip and wraps a blanket over the boy’s shoulders. “Philip. We’ll look for your father and brother. They may still be in the woods, hiding.”

  “Theo, sir, they’d never leave the town. They didn’t come back from the mill, so they’re certainly dead. The fog got ‘em just like everyone else.” The boy's either surprisingly level-headed or in complete shock.

  English is now drunk enough to leap past tact. “Boy, how’d you not end up with your feller village people, dead in that pit?”

  Samuel stands and grabs English by the arm. “Goodness man. The boy just lost his entire world. It’s one thing for us adults to lose so much, but he’s just a boy.”

  Flip’s face goes blank. “They told me to hide in the cellar under the bodies.”

  English dribbles wine. “Who…exactly…are…they?”

  The boy looks at me for help. We don’t want to tell them about the green ones. I stammer, “English, leave Flip alone. You needn’t interrogate him. He’s lucky to be alive and was very brave.”

  Bets gets up. “I’m going to lie down in a real bed. I presume we’ll be off in the morning?”

  “Yes, we need to head north,” Theo replies. “Flip, you’re coming with us.”

  We all shift uncomfortably. English throws down his flask and walks into the darkness beyond the hearth. Now they have two problems to deal with: me and the kid.

  “I’m not going with you,” the boy responds. “You’ll be riding right into the monsters’ land. They’ll rip you apart. Why aren’t you going down toward the flats where you came from?”

  Theo smiles sadly. “We’re searching for a place up the mountain where we’ll find answers.”

  “Well, the only answers up there are to stupid questions. You people are touched.” Flip gets up. “I’ll see you off in the morning. Doubt you’ll ever return.” He looks at me. “Are you sure you want to go?”

  “We have to go,” Theo responds noticing the boy’s gaze. “The reason we’re going up is for her.”

  Flip gives me a puzzled look and leaves.

  I’m sleeping deeply on a bed by a dying fire when Flip shakes me to consciousness. “Miss Amy, we’ve got to go. They’re coming back for both of us. I can see them at dawn.”

  My first thought is strangely not of danger. Rather, I’m annoyed that these creatures from the north won’t let me get sleep. “Flip, go tell the others. What time is it?”

  “About an hour until sunrise.” He’s gone in an instant.

  I pack my bag quickly, making sure to include extra blankets and as much hardtack and jerky as possible. Shouting outside suggests that Flip’s message has been heeded. I emerge into the dark, damp, cold to see Bets, Theo, and Samuel saddling up their horses. English is not there. “Where’s that shit at?” I ask them.

  “I dunno,” Bets exclaims. “But if that boy's making us move for no reason, he’s going to end up with the rest of his village.”

  Flip is right, though. I can see three greenlings, as he calls them, standing on a hay bale pointing toward the south wall. I presume that this is where the fog will enter the encampment. The scent of lamp oil, manure, and decay drifts into the commons and the horses begin whinnying. “Flip, are you still planning to stay?” I ask.

  His face is pale and his eyes wide with fear. “No ma’am. I’ll go with you for a bit.”

  “You can ride with me on Phineus.”

  The smell grows stronger. Dim, greenish light appears and Samuel shouts for English, with no response. The first tendrils of greyish-brown mist descend the south wall when we hear rustling underground. The sound emanates from the large root cellar and the fog moves toward it. Then the groans begin. At first I think it is English trapped in the ground, but I instantly realize that the moans are increasing in number – a symphony of dead throats singing to our doom. The alien fog is waking the dead and apparently, the bodies are animated enough to scale the ladder because the door is rattling. The large iron ring is flipping back and forth ominously. I don’t want to see what might pop out.

  “We need
to ride,” Theo exclaims. None of us protest. We exit the north gate and head up the road toward the clear morning light, riding hard for quite some time. The air’s clear and calm and the horses are settled. We pause to rest at high noon. We left English’s horse in the clearing in the town. I suppose we’re all expecting to see him galloping toward us. Neither he nor the fog and its allies appear to be pursuing.

  Theo is chewing on a piece of hardtack and studying the elder’s book. I hand him a blade of grass. “Do you think that idiot English will find us?”

  “English may have drunk himself silly last night. But he’s mighty capable in a fight. He’ll catch up to us if he can. We need him.” Theo takes the grass and ties it into a knot. “I’m leaving him markers to know where we’re going.” He points to a small cairn on the side of the road. “We use these during hunting trips to find the best lots. They’re hard to notice unless you’re looking for them.”

  We ride two more days in brilliant, optimistic sunshine, making frequent stops to allow Theo to check his book and read the landscape. We arrive at another fork in the road, with a rusted green sign hanging by a single bolt. It screeches as it swings in the wind. “By the symbols on this sign and the lay of the land, we are to head east here.” Theo stacks a few flat rocks and we are on our way again.

  We’re in the high desert now. A small, ruined city lays ahead, dark and angry looking. I see my first skeleton in the dust, looking as if was recently uncovered by the winds. At the outskirts of the rusted buildings and scattered rubble, we again head north into sparsely wooded hills, following what used to be a paved road. Theo slows Silius considerably and searches earnestly for some landmark. “All of you, we’re looking for a large metal tower with a plate on top. The trees here might be hiding the view. The structure should be on a ridge.”

  We fan out and shortly Bets exclaims, “Over here”.

  She's standing before a vast metal lattice reaching above the trees. A few straggly vines hang from it. Otherwise, it looks well maintained, as if it is still in use. Of course, none of us know what the purpose of such a strange thing might be. Perhaps the ancients used it to climb and search for approaching enemies. It appears that they are still using it, which makes me nervous.

  Theo hops off Siluis and gives him a pat. “From here we walk.”

  “How far?” Bets asks.

  “An hour, perhaps less. Look for a metallic door in the hillside with a red circle on it. It was meant to be hidden, so we need to look carefully.”

  Three hours pass. We’ve walked up and down the hillside several times. Samuel and Flip have given up and Bets is cursing and kicking small rocks. Theo is perched on a reddish boulder, rubbing his forehead, patiently reading the leather book, and sipping a little flask of shine. I continue to walk around, more curious about the plants and animals I see than finding the door. I marvel at the variety of life in such an apparently dry and desolate place - very different than the moist, warm gardens of my home. I’m chasing a tiny tan lizard through the brush and trip over a long, braided metallic cable, unlike anything I’ve seen before. The metal isn’t corroded and was clearly buried at one time. I follow it up the hill, as it snakes in and out of the ground. And then I see an indentation on the side of a small outcropping. I touch it and a sheet of dust, sand, and rubble falls away to reveal two metal doors, both with faded red circles on them, and a box that resembles what I’ve seen in so much of the junk in the rubbish piles. There are nine symbols on squares, each representing a number from 1 to 9 in the writing of the ancients, according to Teacher. I presume that these numbers represent some sort of puzzle that will open the doors. I hope desperately that the answer to Eliza’s disappearance is in there. Maybe Fromer, father, and Wenn are waiting for us.

  I hop down the hill to Theo. “Found it. Give me some of that shine to celebrate.”

  Theo jumps up, dropping his book. A piece of parchment falls out and whips toward me in the wind. I pick it up and notice that it is a sketch of a young woman who resembles me or perhaps mom. Theo rushes toward me and grabs the picture, tucking it back between the pages. “Nothing to that, Sprouter. Just some notes.” He’s counting that I didn’t have time to study it. I decide to leave it be.

  We scurry uphill to the door. The wind picks up and dust devils scour the landscape. Theo studies the structure and smiles broadly. “The book talks about a puzzle board like this one. It has an answer for solving it, I think. Here, hold the book.” He concentrates on the pages and begins pushing each square as per the book’s instructions. He finishes and nothing happens.

  “Perhaps we wait,” I say. Theo looks annoyed and punches the boxes again. I then notice another button below the three rows of three. “What happens if we push this?” I step forward, press it, and a red light appears above the box. “Well, something just happened.”

  A strange whirring sound like nothing I’ve heard before emanates from deep inside the hillside. The light begins pulsing and then forms a strange beam that zags across us. We both duck and step back, but the red strips seem to follow us. “Theo, should we be concerned?”

  “Dunno Sprouter. It’s just light. Can’t see how that’d hurt us.”

  “Don’t you remember Teacher’s stories about how the ancient ones used light to kill their enemies?”

  “Do you really believe those stories?” He thinks for a moment. “Let’s maybe step back then.”

  As we retreat behind a large reddish rock, the light vanishes and the doors part with a hiss. The whirring approaches us and then a small, metal box adorned with what look to be eyes and strange black wheels appears in the doorway. A bright red circle is painted on its side with the symbols F-R-E-E-D-O-M E-A-R-T-H underneath. It speaks in a strange monotone that is nonetheless similar to our own tongue. “Hello. You can stand up. I will not hurt you.”

  Theo falls back in the dirt while my jaw hangs limply. “Should we run for the others?” I ask.

  “Not sure,” Theo replies.

  “There are others?” The metal box sounds curious. Its voice is neither male nor female. I have no idea how it is talking without a mouth. It continues. “By all means, please gather them. I have not had visitors for quite some time.”

  I head down the hillside to gather our troops. Samuel decides to stay with the horses and scout for English while Bets and Flip join us. He’ll check on us occasionally and make sure that we can get back out through the door. As we walk toward the door, I warn Bets and Flip about the talking box. “We have no reason to trust the thing. Keep your weapons ready at all times.”

  Bets looks at her sword. “How’s this going to stop something made of metal?”

  “I don’t know. It didn’t seem to have any weapon that I could see. So, hopefully there are no worries.”

  Theo seems more relaxed but is still hunkered behind the boulder. The box has shifted slightly and is talking with him. Theo turns to us. “So, this box thing is tough to understand. It calls itself an inter farce and that its job is to talk with people. Why’d the ancient ones need a talking box?” He laughs.

  “I am an interface. The humans of which you speak need us to accomplish many tasks – order food, arrange travel, communicate with others, schedule meetings, maintain their homes…”

  “Sounds to me that the ancient ones were helpless children and very lazy,” Theo interrupts.

  “Oh no, they were fully grown adults. Many were quite brilliant. I miss them. I apologize. I have not been a gracious host. Please follow me into the facility. My masters have been gone now for centuries. I would enjoy serving you.”

  We look uncertainly at Theo. He nods and we follow the whirring, talking box into the dark tunnel. I look over my shoulder as the daylight recedes.

  Chapter 49 - Hm

  My eyes adjust to the dimmed light of the corridor. Most everything I see I cannot comprehend - much like the junk we plow from the fields every spring. The difference here is that the windowpanes with no apparent use, the square buttons, and the st
range knobs and levers all seem to be in working order and to have a purpose. Light surrounds us, and as Teacher said, there's no heat. The smells of earth and growing things are absent. In their absence, another scent is present, but I don’t recognize its pleasant flowery notes. There’s something else. I can’t place it but I know that I’ve smelled it before. The air is dead. I already miss the wind on the hill.

  We shuffle on. I’ve never been this far underground before. My heart pounds. Sweat slicks my back. The walls seem closer - I desperately want to turn and rush back to the sunshine and open spaces. Theo puts his hand on my shoulder and my nerves recede. I’ll have to accept the feeling of being buried like a corpse in this cramped tunnel.

  Thankfully, the corridor opens into a vast circular room, the ceiling stretching impossibly high into the space above. Brilliant light trickles down on us. At first I think it is the sun, but the color's all wrong. Sunlight is warm and comforting, while this light is cold as snow. Flip, Bets, and Theo stand next to me, stone still, soaking in the sight. If this is a mere reflection of the grandeur of the ancient ones, their dwellings and cities must have been magnificent. Red, blue, and yellow banners hang from the walls.

  “This is where my masters lived before the fall,” the box says. “Please follow me to the dining area. I will prepare a meal for you.”

  Bets looks confused. “How’re you going to prepare food down here? There’s no place to make a fire, no chimney. And where do you hunt or harvest if you live under the ground?”

  “I must apologize. You must be living under primitive conditions on the surface. I will be happy to explain any questions you might have to the best of my ability. But first, you require sustenance.”

  The metal box rolls away and we wander around the vast, sterile area. The walls above us are lined with stairs, walkways, and hundreds of doors. The floor is arranged into areas with seats, benches, and tables, all built with colorful materials that I’ve never seen before. The floor is covered with a strange, soft material that looks like fabric. All is in perfect order, with no signs of the messiness of humans. In the center of the room, there’s a large, round platform - a stage perhaps.