NationStates Jolt Archive

Air…need air.. was the only sentient, conscious thought running through the head of Steven Gallbrath as his arms, fighting the shock of pain and the slow numbing effects of the loss of blood from deep and jagged wounds across his torso. The water, though mild, still served to numb large portions of his body that still responded to the dull and inconsistent commands from his brain, more obstacles placed before him in this microcosmic yet incredibly intense battle for a man’s very survival.

Slowly but surely the wounded man eked ever closer to the surface, the glittering refractive layer seeming like the mirage of a desert as it moved to remain ever beyond the outstretched hand of Gallbrath as he struggled upwards, his vision narrowing in the stinging saline, tiredness and exhaustion battling adrenaline and the raw desire to survive within his system. His lungs pleaded for air not forthcoming, and as the clear skies above continued to seem so tantalizingly near hope slowly faded…

The cool air hit like the breathe of life from God himself, grateful lungs expanded out, vision and other senses suddenly coming alive out of their temporary slumber. The sunlight burned, a wave threatened to send him into the depths again, but he held on, splashing and paddling as hard as he could, taking in big gulps of air as his brain returned somewhat to stable consciousness. Eyes blinking in the flare of the sun, he scanned the horizon, looking either for wreckage of his plane or anything else to cling onto as feeling returned to his struggling limbs.

A brief flash of orange caught his eye, and with a lot of effort and with blood still slowly oozing off his battered body he made his way over to the flash of colour. Little pieces of fibreglass and carbon-fibre fuselage passed on either side of him as he made his way over. He found himself clinging on to the emergency life raft jettisoned from the plane as it hit the water, though where the beacon had gone that should have been attached he had no idea. Pulling the drifting chord, the inflated the raft with little fanfare, a small four man inflatable plastic igloo took shape, hissing as it expanded from pumps and an orange reflective light began rhythmically igniting and flaring in the tropical day.

He pulled himself into the inflated raft, finding it slightly waterlogged but still floating, but, having expended most of his weakened energy getting here he could now do little more than sigh with exhaustion and collapse inside, summing his remaining strength to partially seal the canvas cover before lying back in the sloshing lukewarm water and slowly drifting off to an uncomfortable sleep.

The craft itself drifted on the current, dragging its unconscious and unknowing passenger with the currents of the ocean. It drifted for a day and night with its occupant barely stirring, tossing and turning upon the crest of azure waves before slowly being dragged in a long slow arc against a long and sandy beach. Against the soft white sand the inflatable came to rest, though no sign of line came from within even as the tide departed, leaving the craft to rest and wallow on the soft sand with barely a breeze or seabird to disturb it.

Lukor peered cautiously through the leaves of the wax jambu tree, his eyes taking in the scene with curiosity. The sun shone down on the sandy expanse of beach as the waves calmly crashed in. There was only one disturbance in the otherwise flawless scene of nature. Lukor flew over to a large rock for a better look, making sure to stay hidden.

The large man-sized orange raft was an unusual sight on the beach. No sounds came from it. Lukor assumed it was empty and just happened to wash ashore from some wreck or battle far out in the sea. Still, he wasn’t going to take any chances. Pixies were extremely cautious and clever creatures.

As Lukor hovered behind the rock, his sharp ears picked up a humming sound. It was not coming from the raft, but behind him. He turned to see his comrade Bilkard flying towards him.

“What is it?”, questioned Bilkard. “Headquarters said something washed up on shore.”

“I’m not sure yet,” cautioned Lukor. “Cover me as I go check it out. Be prepared to go for backup.”

“No problem, pal. There are already a dozen more or so of us waiting at Station 256 just in case.”

Lukor quickly flew over to the orange rubber craft, making sure to keep low and behind it’s apparent opening. For the first time he heard something….snoring. “Well, whatever it is, it’s asleep”, he laughed to himself. He carefully flew over to the flap and peeked inside.

Gallbreath lay without sound nor movement, and though his heart still pumped and his lungs still expanded little energy was left in the tired and battered body. Flickering eyelids revealed haunted dreams, of cries and screams and flames abound that reflected haphazardly and without order within the man's mind, causing occasionally murmors and twitching that disturb the otherwise motionless form of Steven's body.

Sleep and salt encrusted eyes opened partially, peering up at the glare of the sun coming through the opened canvas hatch. He could make out little, no noise for the crashing of the water and yet and he couldn't help but feel as if he was being watched. He leaned forward, as far as his unresponsive body would let him, reaching out a scratched and bloody hand towards the gap, trying to figure out why something seemed to be calling him on...

His body let out, however, far too abused to be able to support conciousness even as something small and glittering became clear in Steven's view. He gasped, raspy and dry, and collapsed, arm outstretched with the hand itself reaching over the top of the hatch and landing on the sand outside.

Lukor glimpsed inside just long enough to see that there was a human lying in the boat. He was injured and apparently unconscious. Suddenly the human’s breathing changed and Lukor risked another glimpse inside. The man was coming around. Afraid of being seen, Lukor quickly flew back to the rock where Bilkard was waiting.

“It’s a man. Wounded,” was all Lukor said. He and Bilkard secretly watched as an outstretched arm came out of the opening and seemed to collapse on the sand.

“Right,” said Bilkard. “Wounded man. Apparently alone. Barely alive from the looks of it. You know what we have to do.”

Lukor nodded as he and Bilkard simultaneously became nothing more than tiny balls of light, barely noticeable in the bright sunlight. This form of invisibility was a special talent of the pixies. Anyone who did notice the ball of light darting around could hardly think it more than a trick of the sun on their eyes.

The two pixies were good friends and often worked together. They were both in their mid-sixties, which meant they were quite young yet. Barely adults by most standards. Lukor had dark hair and Bilkard’s was reddish. Bilkard had known Lukor since they were quite young and both were happy to be serving in the king’s army together.

Lukor and Bilkard flew over to the man to see if he was still alive. He was, but had serious injuries across his chest. Lukor immediately got out his wand and touched the tip of it to the first wound. Magic drained deeply out of Lukor’s body, through the wand and into the wound. Slowly, the bleeding stopped and the skin healed. Bilkard was working on a second wound. After less than 5 minutes, all of the man’s wounds seemed to be healed…all that were visible anyway. Lukor finally hovered above the man’s chest and placed the tip of the wand where the man’s heart would be. Once more the magic ran through, this time traveling through the man’s bloodstream and healing any internal injuries that there might be. The man remained unconscious throughout this procedure.

Finally, finished with their work, the two pixies began noting words and symbols on the man’s clothing and on the rubber boat. They were trying to determine where he had come from. A flag on his uniform was one dead giveaway. Satisfied with their work, the two friends flew back to the rock.

“Okay, I will stay here and keep watch while you go back and make a report. You may want to call a small squadron to come out and watch from the trees just in case. I didn’t see any weapons, but you never know,” directed Lukor.

Bilkard took off at once for Station 256.

Gallbreath didn’t seem to respond at first to the effects of the healing, though to what mechanism he remained lost to wasn’t apparent at first, appearing now as in peaceful slumber as his body tried to catch up with what was happening to it in the aftermath of the pixie’s magic, a system of healing almost incompatible with the technological refinements of home. He shifted, now in a more comfortable sleep, idly scratching at wounds that had disappeared moments before and sounding a lot more peaceful and unencumbered than before. Still weak, the body remained in slumber.

His uniform’s familiarity would depends a lot of course upon how up to date the local’s knowledge of the world and the factions therein. The flag bore the insignia of the Freethinker Spaceborne Navy, the Freestian Olympia overlaid with a stylised star field, which indeed would provide some clue to the civilization at hand, but in turn there were few other words or markings to indicate who or what the man was. In terms of name or rank there was only burned insignia, certainly the remaining braids could have left him anything from a Lieutenant to a Captain in terms of importance. Other symbols, carbonised or unravelled in the force of the crash were equally undecipherable.

It was a fair while before Steven actually awoke, and the Sun had sufficiently shifted in the sky to reduce the light flowing into the wrecked life raft. The hand moved, fingers feeling the sand before the limb was withdrawn inside. Half a minute later, the slugged form of the man rose, yawning and stretching, half-closed eyes peering around, taking in both the beauty and the remoteness of the location. With his recent memories consisting only of the garbled imagery of survival and pain, flashing mental pictures of flame and debris and water, the connection between his Tran atmospheric flight and his waking moments on this beach seemed impossibly distant.

It was in this faint recollection that the importance of his cargo came flooding back like an aftermath of the crash, causing him to look around in panic. The cargo, the importance of it placed upon him by his superior officer, now nowhere to be seen. It was only in the panic of this realisation did his suddenly engaged mind pick up upon the fact his body, once wracked by wounds and pain now barely registered a scar, with his only maladies now linked to his lack of recent nourishment. Feeling along the lines of his torn uniform revealed no answers, the skin unbroken beneath the jagged gashes that lined the flight suit.

Trying to connect the circumstances of his arrival here in a tropical wilderness quickly became apparent, given the lack of recall, to be a pointless and wasteful activity. Lacking information of his location, survival training kicked back in. Feeling hungry and thirsty but otherwise reasonably well, Gallbrath checked the life raft again, snatching the meagre mineral laden crackers that provided the small amount of emergency rations within the emergency craft. Munching down several of the tasteless wafers he found himself dragging the canvas raft up the beach and securing it against the nearest tree, he peered up and down the beach before turning towards the jungle and, having armed himself with a mean looking if somewhat primitive trimmed down branch, he headed cautiously into the trees in search of fresh water.

Jerritok sat behind his desk contemplating all he had learned in the last 20 minutes. Bilkard stood nearby, silently…allowing all he reported to his supervisor to sink in.

The pixies were not complicated folks. They lived very simple lives and had no major enemies. Basically, they kept to themselves. They also had very little in the way of modern technology. They were quite primitive in many ways. Yet they were quick, clever, and excellent at staying hidden. The good nature of pixies requires them to use their magic to heal any injured creatures or plant life they meet (unless coerced or used for unethical purposes). For this reason the strange man washed up on their shore was healed.

Bilkard had described the flag on the man’s uniform to his supervisor. Jerritok looked briefly through a book full of hand-drawn flags and symbols. The emblem was soon identified and only one word followed it—“Freethinkers”. Jerritok thought deeply and said aloud, “Freethinkers. Sounds familiar. I think they have multiple life forms including humans. Large place.” Bilkard stood silently not knowing how to reply to this statement.

Finally Jerritok stood up, “How many have we got watching him right now?”

“Eighteen currently at their posts between here and the site, sir,” answered Bilkard.

“Good. Now we’ve got two possibilities. Either he washed up by accident, which is what I’m inclined to believe, or he’s here for a reason. If he’s here by accident, he’ll look for food, water, and shelter and wait to be rescued. Who knows if he has any communication devices on him. If he’s here for a reason…well, that’s what we’ll keep watch for.” Jerritok then opened the leafy door to his office and spoke to a pixie waiting outside. “Larmy, have more scouts ready to take their posts in whatever direction this man goes.” Once Larmy flew off, Jerritok ordered Bilkard to go back to Lukor and find out what was going on.

Alone in his office once more, Jerritok wondered about the strange visitor on their island. “We don’t get strange creatures dropping in very often—especially humans,” he thought. Jerritok knew the best hope for all of pixie-kind was for the human to leave as quickly as possible without ever knowing that the pixies existed.


Shelby, a young, dark-haired pixie, playfully danced in the small waterfall that tricked down into the stream. She knew she was supposed to be at school, but the waterfall was just too tempting. Unfortunately, Shelby had quite a truancy problem as the wonders of nature appealed so much more to her than sitting in a classroom. “You better start studying if you’re going to join the army like me,” is what her brother Lukor always told her. It’s true that she did want to be one of the hundreds of scouts. After all, they got to run around all over the island hiding in trees and spying on things. And she had an insatiable curiosity.

Suddenly, Shelby heard the cracking of twigs nearby. She turned around to see a man approaching the stream. Quickly, she became a spot of light. What was a man doing here? Had he seen her?

Gallbreath crashed through the undergrowth of the tropical jungle, his thirst turning ever slowly into desperation as he trained his eyes and ears for any sign of fresh water, a stream or pool or even a stagnant pond he could just about stomach, but although he was surrounded by magnificence greenery he could see little but leaves and vines and flowers without any sight of water save for intangible drops of moisture that he could barely taste as he ran his dry tongue over them. He momentarily thought about returning to the beach to try opening a coconut or something similar, the only fruit he had recognised as safe to eat so far on the island, but the effort of returning there and completing such a task seemed far beyond him at this moment in time.

He heard, or perhaps even felt, something that gave him the last vestige of a hope, the sound of trickling water. Thinking at first a mirage or an hallucination brought on by his dehydration and his experiences over the last few days he at first dismissed it in his rational mind but his subconscious desire nonetheless forced him to walk in the direction of the noise, giving in to instinct as he pushed forward anew, stumbling across roots and vines and the various plants that grew at the base of the trees in the tropical limelight of the forest floor. Strange noises, of birds and insects and other living things were ignored as the call of the water grew in his mind.

Crashing through the brush, almost collapsing in both exhaustion once more and dehydrated in the heat, he saw the source of the noise and his spirits rose anew. Water, a fresh churning stream with a small waterfall sat ahead of him. Thanking gods he hadn’t prayed to until this moment, he moved forward with an insane disregard for footing or preservation, taking cuts and bruises as he stumbled and crawled towards the stream. The water itself seemed to almost flash in it’s radiant brilliance, almost magically beckoning him on. He reached the stony bank in just a few moments, splashing into the shallow pool at the base of the waterfall with a thunderous splash, the water reaching his waist as he knelt down in the middle, plunging his head down and taking down long, animalistic draws that rushed like heavenly nectar down his parched and irritated throat. Bringing his head back and breathing the air anew, he smiled for the first time in a long while as he cupped his hands and began drinking in a more civilised but still heavy pace.

The sound he heard even as he splashed awkwardly in the water. Basic desire for the clear liquid drove him to continue drinking, but as his primitive needs were met, he found himself looking around. Water drops reflected brightly from the rocks, and still the sound, now clearer as he sat still in the water, a soft humming that he found his eyes trying to find the source off. It was unknown to him what caused it, neither birdlike nor insect, and yet it drove him further into curiosity as he peered down towards where, unknown to him, Shelby was hiding. He placed his hand on the rocks as he steadied himself, and there, in the glistening rocks, an almost magical light sat hovering, wavering softy in the backdrop of the falls.

Shelby tried not to gasp as the man came nearer. She was still stunned at seeing this stranger here. He was obviously very thirsty as he practically dove into the stream and began gulping down water. His clothes were torn and he was dirty and unshaven. Where did he come from? He was so close to her now. Shelby hovered as quietly as possible waiting for him to turn away so she could fly off. But wait…he was looking directly at her. “He can’t see me!” she thought, trying to reassure herself. Suddenly he reached out his hand towards her. Shelby’s first instinct was to bite him…but something stopped her. She wasn’t sure what. His hands closed around the spot of light as Shelby’s world grew dark.




Lukor had been following the strange man as he tramped through the jungle-like wilderness. He knew he must be searching for water. Lukor quickly sped from tree branch to tree branch as he trailed him. He kept expecting to run into some of his comrades as he was sure they were all out on the look out. He had not yet heard back from Bilkard and wondered what the plan was.

Suddenly his sharp pixie ears picked up the sound of trickling water and he knew exactly where it was coming from. He zipped ahead of the man towards the small waterfall and wasn’t disappointed when the man also went that direction. This small waterfall was one of his little sister’s favorite hang outs. Lukor zoomed soundlessly up to a branch with a good view of the water pouring into the stream. “Shelby!”, he nearly screamed out. Luckily his training and his instinct helped him keep silent at this possibly deadly moment. Before he could warn his sister, the man came into view and plunged into the stream. Lukor saw his sister turn into a ball of light not a second too soon.

The light hung in the air, moving only faintly and yet Gallbreath took his time in deciding whether or not his previous dehydration was still playing tricks on his mind. He stood with his hands close to the light, as if trying to see if he could tell from the air around it whether or not it was some sort of fire or spark or something else. Feeling little heat at first seemed to confirm the notion of an illusion, and had Steven come from a country without any trace of magic he perhaps would have left there and then.

But unfortunately for the light Gallbreath was, albeit somewhat distantly, familiar at least from reading the concept of things beyond his immediate perception, the crude renderings of the Sisters of the Spire being merely the tip of multiple dimensions and entities from which strange, seemingly physics-defying forces could be summoned. As the possibility enter his head so too the evidence, however difficult to percieve, seem to indicate something beyond a mere trick of the eye was at play here.

He moved his hands, given he could now stand steady in the shallow pool, around the light, reducing the effect of the glare and allowing him to define the twinkling light more clearly. The movement of the bright object seemed more agitated now, almost as if the light was... alive?

Gallbreath moved closer still, so his lean, darkened face now sat barely a foot away from the light itself. He wondered, watching it intently, whether or not it was indeed a spell or even some magical creature too small to distinguish. He paused for a brief moment, then with almost a soft whisper that simmered with curiosity he spoke;

"What...who...are you?"

Shelby gasped as she heard the words spoken directly too her. “He can see me!” she thought to herself, her mind racing.

Never had she imagined she would be in this kind of situation. Strangers rarely came to Yen Sid for few knew of its location and fewer still knew it was inhabited by pixies. Creatures of all kinds knew about pixies, they just did not know where to find them. Along with their healing powers, pixies were well-known for their pixie dust. Pixie dust could be very dangerous if it fell into the wrong hands. As a rule, pixie dust can only be given to someone else as a gift and never traded or sold. So if untrustworthy people knew where to find the pixies, their freedom and existence would be in danger.

All these thoughts rushed through Shelby’s head as the strange man looked down at her. He had cupped his hands around her (as a ball of light) and asked those words with wonderment. “He knows!” thought Shelby, “He knows I’m a pixie!” Yet looking up into his face, she saw just mere curiosity and wonder. He did not look like he was about to steal her. That was, of course, Shelby’s fear. People were known for taking pixies and locking them up so they can use their pixie dust. “If that was his plan,” thought Shelby, “He would have a calculating look…one of triumph, like someone who just found a gold mine.” Those emotions were not in the man’s eyes.

“Shelby”. She couldn’t believe she had just said that, yet something about his face made her think she could trust him. The man’s eyes opened wide in surprise

Suddenly she heard the words “Let her go! We’ve got you surrounded.” Shelby recognized the voice as that of her older brother Lukor. She saw a ball of light hovering a few feet above the man’s head and knew it was he. She did not, however, see anybody else around. In less than a second Shelby’s hopes were raised and then wilted again as she feared her brother’s bluff would not work.

Instinctively, however, the man had opened his hands a bit wider and Shelby was able to fly out of them. The man immediately noticed her movement and dropped his hands down as he stood gaping, then looked around to see where the invisible voices were coming from.

“Quick!” shouted Shelby, thinking fast. “Follow me…both of you!”

Shelby immediately began flying off to the north. She tried to stay eye-level to the man so that he could follow her. His eyes seemed to be glued on her now that he could focus on the light. Suddenly, she quickly soared down into a nearby cave. The cave had a low opening just big enough for a man to crawl into. Lukor had followed. For the first time the man noticed the second ball of light as it too flew through the cave entrance.

"Shelby."

Gallbreath's gasp was audible, as his eyes widened in shock at the unexpected reply. The question had been barely a whispered rhetorical thought, or at least conciously it was, but the...light... responded in kind, understandable in tone despite its faintness in the forest air. Subconciously controlled, his hands slowly fell apart from their cage like encirclement of the light, and he watched it hang there in the air before moving off between his arms and back into the forest.

He followed, overcome at first by a mixture of both shock and wonder and being propelled in his momentum by abject curiosity, but soon military training kicked back in as he stumbled, leg cutting open on a protruding branch, and he found himself scanning the forest whilst still keeping an eye on the moving light as it rushed ahead. He cursed himself for his laxness but still followed after a moment, slower perhaps but unsure at the moment save the only thing close by that knew where he actually was now was slowly floating away.

The second light caught him by surprise, as did the faint instruction to follow the lights into the cave ahead. He watched the new arrival follow the original light, two members of the same species no doubt, as they disappeared inside the ground, and wondered sheepishly for a moment about whether or not this was a trap and what, in reality, his options were now.

Steven looked at the hole, then at the surrounding jungle, and decided to take the plunge. What choice did he really have, after all?

Bilkard cursed to himself when he could not find Lukor at the beach. The strange man had obviously waken and tied up his boat. No doubt Lukor was tailing him now. Bilkard flew inland towards a nearby post where he found his friends Kenly and Rabir.

“Did he go this way?” he asked. “Yeah,” the two pixies said simultaneously. “Lukor’s on him,” said Kenly. “They went past here about a half hour ago or so. Rabir then saw him up further to the Northeast. Probably looking for water.” Bilkard nodded and said “I’ll find them,” before taking off.

Quickly he flew among the low tree branches. Evidence of the man’s tramping through the wilderness was not hard to miss. Soon he approached the stream with the little waterfall. The scene appeared quite peaceful. He flew to a branch and looked around. Just then, he heard a twig crack and suddenly spotted the man’s retreating back up ahead. Bilkard took off and followed just in time to see the man pause a minute and then crawl down into a low entrance. Bilkard knew there was a cave there...and he had not noticed his pixie friends at all. “Hmmm,” he puzzled to himself, “What is he doing in there? Maybe looking for shelter?"

Bilkard carefully flew around the area to see if there were any pixies stationed nearby. “Where had Lukor gone?” he wondered. Bilkard raised his hands to his lips and gave three long chirps that resembled an insect's croaking. He waited for a reply to his signal but it did not come.

______

Lukor grabbed his sister’s arm and whispered angrily “Are you crazy?!”

They had just flown into the cave and resumed their natural forms, hovering in a dark corner. Shelby had felt sorry for the man. He seemed like he would not hurt them and he reminded her of a little lost pet. Since he had seen her and spoken to her, she wanted to get someplace safe where they could all be hidden. She knew she was violating every rule she’d ever been taught. Lukor, however, being well-trained and not as naïve as his younger sister, was not ready to trust any strangers. But...he was going to protect his sister no matter what. She had acted so fast that he had no choice but to follow.

Before Shelby could answer her brother, they both noticed the entrance to the cave grow dark as the man’s bulky form blocked the sunlight. He was crawling in.

Gallbreath clambered into the hole, rearing as high as he could though still forced to stoop. Inquisitive eyes peered into the blackness, voices clear but unknown in tongue echoed in the chamber, light and shadow playing across the glittering rocks and dew-ridden roots of trees poking through in places. He shivered in the cool cave air as he looked for the source of the noise, the flares he had followed in.

He perhaps should have expected the tiny figures floating in the air, seemingly trying to remain hidden but without any option in the closed cave. But it was their...humanoid appearance which first shocked Gallbreath so, used to something, well, human sized the tiny bodies came as something of a surprise. Insect chirps and a gentle breeze whistled in the background as his mind raced as to what he was seeing. Wandering at first as to whether this was a hunger induced hallucination, he pinched the skin on his forearm. The pain was very real and with it came a sudden rush of fear anew.

Steven decided now that perhaps he was just in too deep, beyond his reach. He whispered, muttered something undecipherable as he moved away from the creatures, clambering back to the entrance before what he had provoked in his curiosity could trap him in here. He scuttled out of the hole again, and ran back into the forest.

**********

FRNS Centaur - Open Ocean, 120 Miles SSW of Uncharted Fractal Anomaly #44432

"Captain!"

The young crewman saluted haphazardly, cradling a package against his uniform breast like a young baby whilst gasping heavily. He faced the inquisitive gaze of his captain who had been sitting reading in his study before the sailor had hurried in with barely a knock. A major breach of protocol that would be addressed here, but expectation suddenly rose in the senior officer, a tall lanky man known as 'Clipper' Chalmsford.

"The beacon?" He asked softly.

"Yes sir!" The sailor placed the item on the desk. Engineering had already moved the power pack out, but there was only one thing that the captain was interested in as he examined the buckled plastic and metal casing of the device.

"Daniels" Chalmsford muttered without looking up. "Remember to knock in future, I'll let the urgency of the situation provide a reason for the slide, but do not let it happen again."

"Aye sir, sorry sir." The young man stuttered.

"Dismissed. Pass a message to Watson that I'll be down to the armoury in twenty minutes."

"Aye Sir!" Daniels saluted again and departed from the ready room, leaving Chalmsford once more checking the device again as one hand moved across a file labelled 'Cosmic'.

As the man turned and exited the cave, Lukor turned to his sister. Her mouth was open just ready to speak. “Don’t!” demanded Lukor, pointing a finger in her face. He was still angry at his sister’s behavior but there was no time for explanations now. “Go home and don’t…say…a…word!” he ordered. Lukor turned into a ball of light and chased after the man as he ran through the forest.

Lukor followed the running man for nearly a hundred yards before he heard three low chirps. He recognized this as a signal and was satisfied when he heard a reply from further ahead. “Fine,” he thought, stopping on a low branch. “Now he’s definitely being watched.” Lukor turned and flew off in the opposite direction.

__________

Ten minutes later, Lukor was standing before Jerritok, slightly out of breath. “Sir, we have to stop Plan 11,” he said.

Jerritok’s eyes widened. “Why? Has he got a weapon?” demanded the old sergeant.

“No…,” said Lukor hesitantly. “He’s seen…me.” He purposely did not mention his sister.

As these words sank in, Jerritok face grew red. “H-How?” he stammered.

Lukor explained about being followed into the cave.

“You idiot!” screamed his supervisor. “Why didn’t you fly up in the trees?”

“I-I…,” began Lukor, not knowing what to say. He wanted to make up some kind of story, but he wasn’t sure if he had been seen or not.

“Nevermind,” said Jerritok carelessly. He was more worried about getting on to the next strategy. “Where is he?” he asked.

“He’s running off towards Genvea. He’s being watched.” Genvea was the home of their king, but there was no danger. No human would ever be able to find it.

“Of course he’s being watched. Do you think we’re all a bunch of idiots like you?” said Jerritok angrily. “Get over there now and prepare for a sleep snare,” he ordered. He walked over to Lukor and looked him straight in the eye. “I’m trusting you not to mess things up this time.”