The Colony Ship Warren #1-7, page 97
part #0 of Colony Ship Warren #1-7 Series
He was about to ask Elsa about the deck plans and layout of what the locals called the shell around the biome, when Beth interrupted his thoughts.
“Something is up there,” Beth reaffirmed.
“Do you mean the stars?” Allen asked in wonder as he tried to recall what recorded images and videos he had seen about the night sky on Earth prior to the cataclysms. He recalled people calling collections of stars constellations.
“Those do look like stars!” Beth said in amazement, “But… I think… well, I thought I saw something else. Something moving.”
The other biomes had not looked like this at night. It was unique and intriguing. This sky was different than the skies they had seen in the other habitats, and each of those places had a somewhat unique tone and look to the sky. Allen had previously wondered if the permalloy of the ceilings far over their heads—in the various biomes—had been cast in a different color in each biome, or if there was some illumination process built into the ceilings which caused the sky to look the way it did. He also knew that the sky tubes varied their light output throughout each day and night. On days when it rained, what the locals called rain day, which happened about every ten days, the sky was dull and clouds obscured the sky tube. But it was the look of the sky at nighttime that varied the most.
Here, there were stars, or at least a representation of stars.
In the other biomes, the sky tube went through a monthly nighttime cycle, from being nearly completely dark, to being a glowing moon-like sheen. As Allen looked up, he tried to discern what specific night in the cycle it was, but he had little to compare with, and he was unsure exactly how the illusion of stars was done, or even why it was done.
“I see it too!” Sora said and defensively squatted down.
Allen and Beth both dropped into a crouch in response to Sora’s words and body language. Allen forgot his astronomical musing on the look of the sky and now looked for something in the sky.
“Someone is going to be taken,” Malina sang out in a soft and ethereal voice. “Someone is going to be taken.”
Millgram stopped pulling on the bell rope, but the bell sounded another full ring and then a less harsh ring, as the clapper struck the bell a final time before it stopped swiveling on its stand. He walked over to Malina and placed his hands on her shoulders.
“My sister, please be still. It is evening, things are getting dark, and you are inciting fear in these people,” Millgram pleaded. “Enforcers come at night, and we need these people’s shelter.”
“See the stars! They prove fear is unneeded. I sleep under the stars every night and I am not taken,” Malina responded to him, then repeated in a sing-song and eerily cheerful manner, “Someone is going to be taken.” She twirled about as if listening to some furtive music only she could hear.
Millgram looked to Pastor Ibn-Neezolo, but he was gazing at the house.
“Hello, Pastor Ibn-Neezolo,” a woman called. She had short brown hair and she stepped out of the house and onto the porch and looked toward the bell and gate. There was just enough light to see her move about. She was somewhat overweight, middle aged, and dressed in dull-colored clothing. She then proceeded down the stairs and into the yard.
A man followed her out of the house, and he was about her same age.
“Clarence, Varvara, have we arrived at an inopportune time?” Pastor Ibn-Neezolo called out. “I have come with some associates.”
“Someone is going to be taken!” Malina sang softly and skipped about in a slow circle around the group of people.
“You are always welcome here, Pastor,” Varvara called back.
“Yes, welcome!” Clarence added, although there was strain in his voice.
“Thank you, Clarence and Varvara!” Pastor Ibn-Neezolo looked about and spying Sora, Allen, and Beth crouched in defensive postures, he looked at them with surprise.
Then he nodded, “Oh, no need for that. Do get up, you three. No need to bow down here.”
“Come on in, pastor!” Clarence called. “Is that girl feverish?”
Some muttering came from the woman, Varvara, to which Clarence responded, but the words were not discernable due to the distance.
“I will explain it all,” the pastor said and headed toward the gate, Millgram and Malina following. “She is not sick, that disease we heard the rumors about has been halted, thank the elementals! No one here will become ill with that.”
Slowly, Allen and Beth stood up, but Sora remain crouched down.
“Something flew over us,” Sora said. “I know it did.”
“Many things fly in the night,” Pastor Ibn-Neezolo said with a touch of mocking in his words. “Come along, please.”
He opened the gate and proceeded into the pasture. Millgram and Melina followed.
With trepidation, Sora stood up, but her crossbow was in her hands. Allen looked at her and, trusting her instincts, he drew out his winxy pistol. Beth followed his example, and she looked all about as the gate shut behind them.
“Thank you for coming,” Clarence enthused as he strolled toward the pastor. “It is always pleasant to have you visit.”
“Clarence, that girl is the vagabond girl!” Varvara chided, but she scurried along next to him. “We should stay inside.”
“I came because Jeff told me of what happened,” Pastor Ibn-Neezolo stated as he met Clarence and Varvara.
“Someone is going to be taken. Someone is going to be taken,” Malina chanted and twirled about. Millgram tried to intervene, but she refused to listen to him and just tipped her head back and looked high into the sky which was becoming a dark canopy with the sprinkling of artificial stars.
“The vagabond girl—” Pastor Ibn-Neezolo began but was cut off by a strange sound.
A bizarre hissing sound came from somewhere above.
“Elsa, identify that sound!” Allen barked out as he felt the hair on his neck rising.
A ruckus of noise arose from the beige and white colored animals, the cattle. The herd began lowing, braying, and grunting in increasingly loud and boisterous ways. They were also moving about in agitation, stomping their feet, their nostrils were flared, eyes wide in fear.
“Elsa!” Allen demanded. “Answer!”
There was no response.
“Elsa?” Beth yelled and tapped the com-link. “Elsa, respond. What is happening?”
There was still no response.
Clarence and Varvara met Pastor Ibn-Neezolo in the middle of the pasture, and exchanged hugs. They were oblivious to the change in the cattle, and the still present hissing noise. Seeing them in an unworried state calmed Allen, slightly, but the loss of contact with Elsa was disconcerting. Glancing at Beth, he saw deep concern and perplexity on her face.
A sharp increase in the hissing noise rose over the anxious mooing of the cattle.
“Nothing to fear!” Malina sang out, “Nothing to fear. It is here!”
Millgram, who was next to his sister, and a few paces away from the pastor, looked up and screamed.
“Ahhhhh!”
Something large flew down in a blur and knocked into the three people in the center of the pasture. The impact sent Pastor Ibn-Neezolo reeling away. He landed on his back about three meters from where he had been standing, but was right in front of Millgram and Malina.
Twang!
Sora fired her crossbow and the bolt streaked out and struck into the thing whose wings were straight out to the sides as it rose upward. In its claws was Clarence, who seemed dwarfed by the flying thing’s size. But it had been visible for just a brief moment, then it disappeared into the blackness overhead, seemingly unaffected by Sora’s bolt.
“No!” Varvara screamed in horror. “No!”
Beth aimed and fired her winxy pistol. Piff! Piff!
There was no obvious reaction from Beth’s firing, but she had done it instinctively. She then wondered if she might have hit the abducted man and wished she had thought through her action a bit more. Biting her lip, she scanned the dark sky, but saw nothing.
Varvara turned and staggered away, hurrying to the porch of the house, falling as she climbed the steps.
While Allen, Beth and Sora were looking up—trying to see where the flying thing had gone, but seeing neither it nor the man Clarence—there was a sudden rumble of hooves.
“Stampede!” Millgram yelled out and grabbed his sister and dragged her toward the gate.
“Nothing to fear!” Malina sang.
Yet, the cattle were pounding the ground with their hooves and running along the fence. They actually were lifting their front legs up a bit in severe agitation as their eyes shone with terror. Screams, howls, and anguished cries escaped from their throats—a far different set of fear-induced vocalizations than before. The noise was terrifying.
Varvara waved her arms in a futile gesture as she staggered onto the porch her mind almost as far away as the body of Clarence.
Pastor Ibn-Neezolo was just standing up, barely getting to his feet, when the cattle stampede reached his position. Beth saw him raise his hands to his sides and yell something, but the words were drowned out by the crazed animals. The cattle ignored him as they rushed ahead in a panic. Several butted against him, and he tried to dodge and move aside, but there were too many. Turning around, he tried to flee with the herd, but he was not quick enough. He fell to one knee. The crush of the animal’s massive bodies, their stomping hooves, and their blind panic pushed him further down.
Pastor Ibn-Neezolo disappeared under the herd.
Varvara screamed, “No! No!”
Sora, Allen, and Beth reached the fence just in time and vaulted up and over it, escaping the stampede. One of the cows smacked into the rails of the fence just a moment later and the rail broke with splintered ends falling to the ground. The cow got entangled in the lower rail, but with a few kicks sent that rail flying away as well. She then trotted off and rejoined the herd in its stampede.
For the entire herd was rushing away, like a living landslide, and pounded their legs hard into the ground as if by stomping they could pound out the terror that was motivating them. The herd thundered about until they were at the far side of the house—which was shrouded in dim gloom—and then they disappeared around to the back of the house. They were still making a racket with their fearful wails, but it was less terrorized than it had been.
Sora rushed over to the body which had been brutalized beneath the immense weight of the herd.
Allen and Beth joined her.
Pastor Ibn-Neezolo was a mangled mess of a body.
“Not as much blood as I feared,” Beth remarked as she pulled out the medical kit.
“His legs are all pulverized,” Allen said as he squatted down next to the fallen pastor.
Beth pulled the leads from the medical kit, and placed them on the sides of the pastor’s neck, but when she looked at Sora, she saw her shaking her head from side to side.
“This… should not… have happened,” Pastor Ibn-Neezolo huffed out in a weak and trembly voice. “No one… was… scheduled… for…”
Allen, Beth and Sora all leaned in close to hear what he was trying to say.
Beth pushed the diagnose button on the medical kit, but nothing happened. She pressed it again, and still nothing happened. No lights came on. No readings of any kind.
“Mechanical failure?” Beth yelped in anger and shook the medical kit. “Elsa! Why! Why!”
There was no response.
“Try mine,” Allen said and quickly pulled out his own medical kit.
He connected it to the fallen pastor, hit the diagnose button, and watched.
Nothing happened.
The medical kit was as inert as a stone, or one of the broken pieces of the fence. He fumbled out a fusion pack, and it too was inoperative. The light would not come on, nor would any function operate.
“What?” Allen cursed out. “This cannot happen!”
Sora gently touched Allen’s hand, “There is no pulse. His neck is bent, crooked. He is gone.”
Millgram had walked over and was looking down at the dead pastor.
Beth and Allen carefully packed up the medical kits and other gear as if they were in a trace, but they kept looking back at the pastor. Something was strange about the body, but the light was dim and the traumatic environment hindered their perceptions.
“The herd killed him,” Sora said softly. “They were spooked by whatever took that man. A kongamato?”
Millgram pushed his way next to the dead pastor and began reciting some liturgical supplications using a reverent and humble voice.
“Dear elementals, I am unworthy to approach you, but I ask your forgiveness on this man, Pastor Ibn-Neezolo…”
He continued what he had obviously memorized, and it involved calling on the gnomes, undines, sylphs, and salamanders. He had just spoken a few lines when the hissing noise returned. Perhaps the sound had never left.
“Kongamato!” Sora pronounced and pointed her crossbow at the dark sky.
“Get inside?” Allen suggested and pointed toward the house. “A more defendable position?”
Beth nodded as she pointed her winxy pistol upward, but had no target. She wondered if the weapon would even fire, since the com-links, fusion pack, and medical kits had failed.
Millgram continued his liturgy, “…and please, dear elementals, look with kindness on your servant. He has now passed into death…”
“Go to the house,” Sora ordered and stepped in that direction. “Follow me.”
“Fear not!” Malina called out as she joined them. “You will only be taken someplace else. They brought me here!” she spread her arms wide and twirled around. “I am not afraid of you! Enforcers do not frighten me!”
Beth rudely grabbed the girl and pushed her head down so Malina had to look at the dead pastor. “Death! That is what is coming! Fear that!”
“Now, someone else is going to be taken,” Malina chided and an eerie chuckle passed her lips. “You know, the violent always get taken, the curious sometimes get taken,” Malina chanted in a whiny voice and ignored the body which lay before her. “Someone else is going to be taken!”
Beth locked eyes with Malina and then let her go and stepped back.
“Millgram, finish your religious stuff inside,” Allen barked and grabbed Millgram’s shoulder.
The youth shrugged off the grip and refused to be interrupted. He said boldly, “There must be atonement and prayers made. I am the only one who can do it. Please, respect the elementals!”
Millgram turned away and went on, “Excuse the interruption, oh magnificent elementals, I do ask for you…”
The overhead hissing grew louder, yet Millgram continued, as something whipped by, coming from behind Allen and flew right over the pasture.
Twang!
Sora let fly a bolt, but no one saw what she targeted.
Piff! Piff!
Allen fired upward, not taking aim, but hoping it would frighten off the kongamato monster or whatever it was. He let out a breath, he was not aware he had been holding, as he was immensely relieved that his winxy pistol had fired. Still, he had not sighed the enemy, nor had the hissing sound abated at all. If anything, it was a higher pitch and reverberated all around them. In fear, Allen looked about for the herd of cattle, wondering if they were about to charge them again.
The cattle were hidden in the darkness but he could hear their bellows of anguish and fear, and it almost seemed like the ground shook from the pounding of their hooves.
“We have to get inside!” Allen stepped away.
Millgram shook his head and just continued speaking to the elementals.
Allen, accepting Millgram’s decision, but fearful that the youth would be slaughtered before his eyes, looked to Beth, whose face was a mix of anger and puzzlement. He grabbed her with one hand and pulled.
“Come on!”
Just before Sora reached the stairs, the hissing noise became very loud. Sora had her crossbow ready, so when something dropped out of the sky, she fired.
Twang!
With an audible thud, the bolt sank into something, but yet the monster still swooped along the ground, grabbed onto Varvara, and then sped away. That poor woman screamed and screamed while she beat her hands against the claws which held her tightly. A slight streak of yellow trailed behind her.
Twang!
Sora’s second bolt flew straight and true, impacting that flying something, again.
Piff! Piff!
Piff! Piff!
Beth and Allen both fired—their winxy pistols at maximum power—and this time they had a target, even though it was moving rapidly away into the night.
Piff! Piff!
The thing was gone, along with the woman.
The hissing noise stopped, or perhaps whatever had made that sound was just too far away, or the braying and complaining of the cattle drowned it out as some of them were running around in a panic again. It was not quite a repeat of the stampede which had killed the pastor, but when Allen heard them coming, he could only think of Millgram and Malina.
“Not again!” Beth yelled and rushed past Allen and back toward the middle of the pasture.
Allen was just a step behind her.
“Millgram beware!” Allen yelled as he sprinted along. He activated the glow of his RAM suit in a feeble hope it might divert the herd’s attention.
Beth grabbed Malina and with a glance back toward the house realized the fence was closer. She literally threw Malina over her shoulder and raced onward. The young woman offered no resistance at all, but was still a burden to move.
