by Eli Ingle
Moving to the right, his eyes glanced at something sticking in the ground. All thoughts of abandoning the search were forgotten as he rushed over to see what it was.
What he found confused him more than the original event. Embedded in the ground was a large copper casing with a bulb in the middle. The light was as large as Rigel’s hand and occasionally omitted a pulse of light along with a high-pitched beep. Peering over as he heard another beep, discordant with the first, he spotted the other meteor.
Walking over, he saw that they matched. Two lamps in copper cases, each emitting a pulse of light and a beep. Suddenly one word registered.
Beacon.
They looked as if they were meant to assist some kind of landing craft. He decided to tell no-one. He would either be branded a fantasist (Aliens? Sure thing kid …) or the place would be staked out to see what was coming. No, he wanted to keep this for himself.
Looking at his watch he yelped. It was eight o’clock! He should have set off to school fifteen minutes ago.
Running back, he collected his things before racing all the way there. The journey took his mind off the beacons for a while.
He arrived late, even though he ran, but when he sat down in class he remembered the beacons and lost himself in thought.
It was only after the final bell rang that he realised he had no recollection of the day – he had been so absorbed in thinking about the lights.
Rushing home he noticed for the first time ever that he was eager to get there.
He threw his rucksack against the back door, neglecting the house and instead going straight up to the back fields. The grass was drier than it had been this morning but the air had taken a bitter chill and the sun was already setting. Moving in the dark, he was only sure of his destination when he spotted the golden lights pulsing intermittently.
Walking over, he examined each one but neither had changed. Rigel peered up at the sky, squinting in the hope of spotting something enlightening.
Time passed. His rumbling stomach and the cold in his bones almost turned him back to the house. And then the next meteor fell.
With a sharp crack like thunder it appeared in the sky from nowhere. Shining as brightly as the night before, it fell towards the earth in a perfect arc with a deep ripping sound. Rigel planned to move out of the way until he realised that this beacon was falling further forwards than the others.
Still, he probably should have moved because as it hit the earth the impact threw him off his feet.
Clambering back up again, he was startled to see that another beacon was already falling. There seemed a matter of urgency about it tonight, whereas the previous night’s beacons had seemed almost leisurely. Hurrying out of the way, Rigel waited at the edge of the field as it fell. It landed next to the third and once the hazy golden explosion had cleared, he saw a fourth beacon pulsing brilliantly in the dark night.
Twice more meteors fell, these two further forward than the last. He only spotted the formation when he walked nearer – three in a row, a gap, and another three in a row. Like an aeroplane landing strip.
This was a landing site.
He waited late into the night until, with disappointment, he was sure that nothing more was going to land there that night.
Trudging back to the house he suddenly realised how cold and hungry he was. His preoccupation with the lights had made him forget completely. He staggered home, feeling weak.
Back inside, he fed and warmed himself as best he could, all the while staring out of the window, convinced that something was going to happen. When nothing did he felt the usual pangs of disappointment. After another half an hour he finally decided to go to bed. During his usual pre-bedtime routine he reasoned that on the other nights not everything had happened at once. Perhaps the final stage (the landing?) would happen tomorrow night. Thus reassured, he settled beneath the covers and fell asleep quickly.
The next day passed like the previous one until Rigel was running straight for home again.
In the kitchen he tipped the contents of his rucksack onto the floor before putting various other items in: a flask of tea, a squashed sandwich, and some blankets.
Running back up through the fields, he arrived in plenty of time. Laying the blanket down on the grass, he wrapped the other end over his head and waited.
The cold air was soon biting at his exposed face, causing him to shiver unpleasantly. He was beginning to wonder if anything would turn up at all but he did not leave. Experience from the other nights had taught him that just when he thought nothing more was going to happen another meteor would come down, although tonight he was not hoping for another landing light; he was hoping for the landing craft.
Unscrewing his flask, Rigel poured out the tea before sipping it. Continually glancing up at the sky, he was beginning to feel disheartened that nothing was happening. But still he waited, determined not to miss anything.
Despite the cold he realised he was falling asleep. He tried not to but kept jerking awake as his head bobbed down too low. Just as his eyes were closing again, he heard it.
Boom.
Standing up with a jolt, he looked around, desperate to see what had made the noise.
But silence reigned again and he sank back down onto the blanket, thinking he must have imagined it.
Then it came again.
BOOM.
But where on earth from? He was certain now that the noise was not a figment of his imagination but it left him wondering what could have made it. There was nothing around for miles. He looked up and with a sudden flare of excitement he realised that something was happening. He was unsure where or what it was, but it was definitely coming … and it sounded huge.
Rigel wrapped the blanket around himself and staring hard at the sky. His neck began aching but he refused to look down, fearing that he could miss the crucial moment.
Then the sky began to lighten and his heart soared. Sounds of engines filled the air and he knew that this must be the moment. A huge flash lit the sky…
But then something went wrong. Just as the light became brighter and the engines swelled to an impossible roar they faded suddenly, disappearing into the night. The sky was cold and black once more.
Rigel stood gaping, wondering what had happened. Why had it all gone so suddenly? His squashed sandwich lay forgotten on the floor as he stood there, devastated.
For a while he hoped that if he waited, something else might happen. Standing for more than half an hour, it was only when he was freezing that he realised it was not coming back. With a heavy heart he picked up his things and trudged back to the house.
Crawling into bed he did not bother to get undressed, but just pulled the covers over his head, overwhelmed with disappointment.
He woke the next morning and was crushed with the feelings of last night. Doubt is a terrible thing. Rigel found out that day how doubt could fill his mind, poisoning every thought. He sat in school, not listening to any lessons, just desperately thinking about the landing site. Would the thing in the sky ever come again? As he walked home from school he was almost tempted not to go up to the field because he was so worried about the disappointment if it did not come back. Something on the doormat when he came inside changed that idea.
Amid today’s pile of bills and other letters, a light was glowing. Knocking the stack away, his eyes were assaulted by a purple envelope. Not just purple; it was glowing with a fluorescent light that filled the hallway with dancing stars. Writing in red neon read: Open Me! Obeying, Rigel slit it, only to cough and spit a moment later, cursing as he wiped his eyes; glitter had exploded out. Several small fireworks whizzed out from the bottom, screaming as they twirled down the hallway before crackling in the air. Rigel yelled and dropped the envelope and stomped on it until it went out. Heart thudding, he poked it cautiously in case it should explode again. When it remained still, he picked it up again. What on earth was this all about? Peering inside, with caution now
, Rigel spotted two small golden coiled devices. Tipping them onto the palm of his hand, he wondered what they were. They were tiny. Looking back in the envelope, he saw a slip of paper and pulled it out. The edges flared like a sparkler, making him to drop it. When he realised there was no heat coming off, he picked it up again and read.
“Congratulations! Now put one of these in each ear. Please do it – it’s really important. Love from a friend.”
“What friend?” he asked himself. “Oh well.” Shrugging, he picked up the devices and put them in his ears.
At first they did nothing. Then with a sudden whirl they screwed into his ears. Crying out, he tried to pull them out but they screwed in deeper still. His eyes spun around but stopped as the devices did. He could not feel them anymore. Clicking on either side of his head, he found he could still hear properly but was none the wiser as to what the things had done.
“Too late now,” he said. Then a thought crossed his mind – it could only be the people in the sky! Too excited to wait and think about it, he grabbed a pile of blankets and ran off outside again. Climbing up towards the field, he sat down, wrapping himself up when he arrived.
There were no signs of the ship but it was still early. Anyway, it was so quiet up here … and peaceful … and …
Boom!
Rigel’s eyes snapped open. Peering around, he berated himself for falling asleep. Had he missed it?
No. But he almost had. The sky was lighting up again. Once more the roaring sound was filling the sky. Boom! There it was again. Perhaps this really was the time! Thank goodness he had not stayed at home.
A third and final bang, louder than the rest, shook the air. The huge rumbling sound grew louder and seemed to strain before fading again. The engines strained louder, growing towards a deafening pitch. Then a heavy ripping split through the air.
A hole was torn in the sky above the middle of the field; inside was a tunnel of swirling smoke and the occasional flash of hot white light. The emerging shape fascinated Rigel more.
A hint. A shadow. Something enormous. One minute it was almost there, the next it was being pulled back again. Rigel’s chest was tight, nerves crawled through his stomach, and there was tightness in his throat. Then with a huge roar of engines it broke through.
An airship, the kind he had seen in history books but at least five times larger, was slowly flying out of the hole in the sky. Majestic and sleek, the sight of it sent Rigel’s heart racing.
But something was wrong. As the bang resonated again, Rigel realised that there was a line of cannons on each side of the deck. Swirling around the airship was a black shape that blew like smoke and water as it flew around, making the most dreadful shrieking noises. Whenever it came within range, the cannons fired at it, although it appeared to keep missing the target. Even as Rigel watched, a huge hole was ripped in the lining of the balloon and the airship began to sink towards the middle of the field. Sensing its advantage, the black shape converged on the hole and sent a stream of fire towards it.
The shape split in different directions just as the balloon caught fire. The engines seemed to falter and the ship began to lose height. Rigel heard a siren wailing from within. Then with a shudder the propellers whirred for a final time before hitting the ground, sending up chunks of soil and pieces of metal that flew everywhere.
Finally the ship skidded to a halt just as the engines gave one last puckering whirr. Rigel stood open mouthed, staring at it. Black smoke began to rise steadily into the air just as the hole in the sky began to close.
So there was something coming after all! But it looked so strange … and where had it actually come from? He had been expecting something coming out of the sky, not through it! What should he do? The apparition scared him. His feelings were confused – why had it been attacked? Had the people driving it done something wrong? It was obviously otherworldly and he did not know if that made it dangerous. He did not know but it was incredible! Here was something from somewhere else! What was it doing here? He was the first to see it. He did not know what would happen next … but then another thought overtook him: What if they were aliens coming to invade the Earth? Sudden terror clouded his mind and he gathered his things quickly before they noticed him. He would go back to the house and find a way to contact the authorities. Now he realised that thinking this was just something interesting to look at had been a very foolish and selfish thing to do. People could be in danger and if he did not warn them soon it would be all his fault.
He was just stepping back into the woods when a voice rang loudly over a speaker system, giving it a slightly distorted edge.
“Stop.”
He paused despite himself, more out of surprise than anything. So they had seen him after all.
“Rigel, please remain where you are. It has taken us a very long time to find you and we would appreciate it if you didn’t run off. Now, if you just– oh, damn it, my sleeve’s on fire.”
Rigel could just make out general cursing and the sounds of people running around and beating fabric. After a moment a harsh whine of feedback made him wince, but then the person spoke again.
“Sorry about that. Now … er, what was I saying? Oh this has just spoilt the whole thing! Hang on ….”
With a loud pop the speaker was disconnected. Frozen between fear and curiosity, Rigel did not move, just watched. A door on the side of the craft opened. However the angle of the deck meant that it swung too fast and ripped off its hinges, landing on the floor with a loud clang. More cursing could be heard from within before a heavily booted foot probed outside. The rest of the body quickly followed but finding the doorway of the deck very slippery, with no foothold, the figure lost its grip and fell onto the floor. When the person did not get up immediately, Rigel’s empathy overruled his caution and he moved over to help.
“Are you alright?” he asked, surprised at how croaky his voice sounded, but then he realised that he could not remember the last time he had used it.
“Been better,” muttered the man.
Hoisting himself up onto his elbows, he spat out a mouthful of grass and soil.
“Your ground doesn’t taste very good,” he commented, sounding almost disappointed.
“Well, we’re not really renowned for eating the grass,” Rigel replied.
The man stood up suddenly. “Really?” He sounded fascinated. “How strange.”
He turned to look at his ship and groaned.
“Oh no. They’re going to kill us!”
“Why? It’s not your fault you crashed.”
“Ha ha, yeah … but it wasn’t really our ship to crash …”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, we might, sort of have … stolen it …”
“You what?”
“Well we didn’t steal it – they were going to give us one to come in but it was basic and not very impressive. So we took this one instead. Guess we’ll just have to fix it up as best we can …”
“Hmmm.”
Rigel was not really listening. Now he was up, he was looking at the man. He seemed quite young but held himself with the grace of someone much older. A pair of brass-rimmed goggles hung around his neck and he had long floppy black hair that kept swinging into his eyes. He wore a long black overcoat that had silver buttons and he was holding a cane. A leathery waistcoat was just visible underneath the jacket; the chain of a pocket watch shone dimly against his stomach.
“Who are you?” asked Rigel.
“Who am I?” repeated the man. “I am Lorrirone Orunstone Peririer the Third … but you can call me Laurie. Everyone else does.”
Rigel laughed before he could help himself. “That sounds like a funny name,” he said.
“Funny, does it? I’ll have you know that where I live it’s one of the most aristocratic names around. But go on. I’m curious: What do they call your type around here?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
“John mostly,” Rigel admitted.
>
“John? John! What kind of name is John?!”
“Not a complicated one,” replied Rigel, thinking of the Captain’s name.
“Oh,” said Laurie, looking around. “We have so much to talk about!”
A sudden idea struck Rigel.
“How can I understand what you’re saying?” he asked.
“What?”
“If you’re from another world, surely you speak a different language?”
“We do,” said Laurie.
“But it sounds like you’re talking English to me!”
“That’s right,” said the Captain. “What do you think we sent you that letter for?”
“So it was you!” exclaimed Rigel.
“Bingo! We might have had trouble getting a whole airship through the sky but sending a letter through a little gap was much easier. It saves on time later as well because we can understand each other from the start. Those devices are translators. You speak our language; we speak yours. Cuts down on the confusion. Well done for putting them in; most people ignore what we say.”
“So I’m speaking a different language … and I can hear yours as if it were English … Wow.”
“Very nifty, isn’t it?” Laurie said, smiling.
Rigel nodded in agreement until another question surfaced.
“What were those things attacking you?” Rigel asked, curious.
Laurie jumped. “Oh no! I’d forgotten!” he shouted. “Lights! Lights!”
Spotlights, at least twenty, burst into life and flooded the field with a pure white light. Shielding his eyes against the glare, Rigel shouted.
“What was that for?!”
“Don’t worry! We just needed to do that to stop those things coming near us. Here, take a pair of these.”
Rigel felt a cool, spikey object placed in his hands. After a moment he realised it was sunglasses and slipped them on. The glare diminished until it was almost unnoticeable, allowing him to open his eyes. He saw that Laurie was also wearing a pair, dainty things with circular lenses.
