“What options are we left with if we can no longer destroy the horns?”
Frequency El’s wings were dark while considering that question. “We must throw ourselves into the shift. We must give ourselves to the phase while we still can. Resisting it will only hurt us now, for we’ll not survive much longer if we remain between the crystal and the phase. We must give ourselves entirely to the shift, and hope that we eventually wink upon a new place where our wings might again shimmer.”
“What are our chances of finding such fortune amid so many planes of existence?”
“I believe them better than those we face by remaining caught in the middle.”
“And what of the things we’ve shaped? What of those great pieces the crystal has inspired? Must they all be lost as well?”
A little light again winked within Frequency El. “They might be preserved. Perhaps we can send our greatest shapes into the stars, so that, perhaps, a time might come when another sentience might admire what we once wrought.”
Before tossing themselves into the shift, they gathered their greatest pieces of sculpture and their most elegant examples of curve and line. They placed each into a last vessel crafted from Frequency El’s crystal. Then, they tossed that egg into the stars, where it would drift for so long amid the twilight until, maybe, it would be found by other creatures who would look upon the relics and dream of the creators responsible for shaping such art.
Finally, Frequency El and the rest of that starfly race resisted the shift no further and gave themselves entirely to its pull, wishing as they winked invisible that they might find a new home.
* * * * *
Chapter 8 – Listening to the Chimes
Naomi and her crew travelled deep into that forest of tall, golden spires, stopping occasionally to silence the engine of their navigational mule so that they might listen to the song unseen instruments chimed into the air. Naomi could offer Wilson no opinion on what direction he might take through those tall horns as he directed the mule. She knew no better than her crew what they might hope to find on that world that might show them whether or not they had finally discovered the home of the starfly. So they occasionally stopped their vehicle’s engine, hoping that those notes drifting on the wind might point them in a fateful direction.
“The spires seem to be thinning out a bit in front of us,” observed Wilson from his seat behind the mule’s steering wheel. “You want me to keep to where these spires crowd more closely together? Or do you want me to keep rolling forward, though we’ll lose whatever cover might be hiding us from the attention of the starfly?”
Ray frowned. “We don’t even know if this is their home, Wilson.”
“And hiding back in these horns isn’t likely going to tell us,” spoke Naomi. “Push on ahead, Wilson, but don’t let your foot stray too far from the accelerator.”
They rolled onto a ring of open ground circling an enormous horn that seemed to rise into the playground of stars twinkling faintly beyond the golden sky. The spire in the heart of that clearing was massive in comparison to all others, and Naomi sensed that the smaller towers paid a kind of homage to that central spire. Naomi never dreamed a race could erect a monument that stood so high. She never imagined that curves could stretch to such scale. Naomi was certain that an intelligent race shaped those towers. Somehow, she knew those spires stood as art imparted upon an otherwise flat, featureless land.
“Are we looking for anything in particular?” Wilson asked.
“We’re looking for everything,” Naomi answered. “Circle that giant spire. Maybe we’ll see something after we get closer.”
Ray set a hand upon Naomi’s shoulder. “I can hear the chimes over the sound of the mule. The notes seem to be coming from that tallest spire.”
Naomi could find no features upon that golden tower as they orbited the central spire. No enemy winked in the corner of Naomi’s eye to ambush her crew, and so the mule moved slowly as Naomi and her crew listened to the chimes carried upon the alien wind.
Wilson broke their silence. “We’ve travelled so far to come to this world. We’ve crossed so many stars. Yet that melody still speaks to my heart.”
“We might be reading too much into the notes,” Ray warned. “They might be nothing more than the wind whistling around all these towers.”
Naomi shook her head. “It’s more than the wind. Many said they heard chimes moments before the starfly draped the Earth with their crystal netting.”
“Did you ever hear the melody?” Wilson asked.
“I heard only the battle’s roar,” Naomi returned, “but I think we’re hearing that melody now. I think this is the starfly’s home, and I think the starfly are trying to tell us something.”
The music grew louder as they circled that spire. The beat of those notes quickened, as if that song hurried towards crescendo. The chimes captivated Namoi and her crew, but the humans also turned anxious as the giant spire brightened from a mysterious, internal light. The sky’s golden pallor lightened for such new illumination. The stars on the other side of the sky vanished, and the eyes of those space travellers winced for the intensity.
Then, there was a shimmer of indigo and turquoise wings in the corner of Naomi’s eye.
Naomi pointed towards the peak rising in the heart of that clearing.
“We’ve found their home. Somehow, we’ve found it hidden in all the stars. Somehow, we’ve found the starfly.”
Creatures with shimmering wings and slender tendrils blinked in and out of sight as they darted around that giant, golden tower. Naomi’s mind reeled at the number of creatures composing that swarm of flashing light blurring green and blue contrails throughout the air. The ring of each chime echoed in their ears. The notes sounded more like chatter than of song, sounded like thousands of voices stretching to communicate to those aliens who lowered out of the sky to consider that landscape of spires.
Naomi’s heart raced. Her mind urged her hand to draw that weapon holstered on her hip and to fire that gun while she still might, before a starfly appeared from nowhere and dragged her away into the nothing. Naomi’s mind urged her to fire her weapon and bring the war the starfly started to that alien race’s home. Her mind urged her to deliver the revenge humanity craved.
Yet Naomi’s heart beat louder than did her mind, and Naomi’s blood told her to remain quiet and still. Naomi’s blood told her to listen and hear what those shimmering wings chimed.
The swarm swirling around the spire burned in bright light as the music held a long note. Another heartbeat pumped Naomi’s blood, and then the swarm vanished as suddenly as it had arrived, leaving behind a quiet sky that dimmed as the great, central spire’s light faded. Naomi held her breath. Wilson didn’t move. Ray said nothing. They only waited for another chime to dance upon the breeze.
But that chime never arrived.
“Did everyone see that?” Ray’s voice trembled.
“We saw it,” Wilson responded, “but what do we do now?”
Naomi growled. “We do what we’ve come all this way to do.”
* * * * *
Chapter 9 – Merciful Invaders
Frequency El winked madly in and out of the shift. The phase delivered its kind to a world they prayed to find, a planet they might regard as a new home, a world to replace what had been lost to them after they built their landscape of crystal spires. But Frequency El realized quicker than the rest of its kind that they would not claim that beautiful, new world. Frequency El realized that that glowing, blue orb belonged to another intelligence, one that seemingly shared the starfly’s passion to shape and inspire.
Frequency El winked about that blue globe and marveled at everything that native civilization crafted. Sunlight shimmered off of towers built of steel and glass, reminding Frequency El of the majestic, golden spires its kind was forced to abandon. Roadways twisted like vines over the ground, populated by carriages that rolled through golden fields and green forests. Mighty archways spanned wide wa
terways. Boats of white sails billowed in the gale while elegantly carved keels sliced through raging waves. Homes nestled into the countryside. Great cities spread over the ground. Frequency El winked one place to the next, everywhere amazed by the faces of the alien inhabitants, everywhere astounded by the dress in which those creatures covered their forms. Frequency El looked upon canvasses painted in color, stared at sculptures of exotic shapes. That alien listened to the music and the bustle that filled the air, and Frequency El’s wings pulsed brightly each time that alien looked upon another masterpiece the intelligent race shaped from the materials of their world.
Many of Frequency El’s kind still fought against that world’s civilization. Unlike Frequency El, they hadn’t yet seen enough of what that native race crafted to realize they had no claim to that world. Frequency El knew its kind would quickly recognize the foolishness of their invasion. Frequency El knew its kind would recognize how unjust it would be for their race to steel from a civilization so creative. Frequency El knew its kind would soon see how they had no right to take from a civilization as gentle and wise, as meek and forgiving, to shape such splendor.
Frequency El knew those who called that blue planet home must’ve been creatures like the starfly.
Thus with another wink, Frequency El threw himself once more into the shift, vanishing so quickly after randomly appearing upon a world so shaped by beautiful dreams.
* * * * *
Chapter 10 – Everything Burns
“It took a little work, but once we got the first fire started, everything seemed to burn fabulously,” Wilson observed.
Ray grinned. “The extra oxygen in the atmosphere is going to guarantee it all turns to ash. There’s not going to be a single spire remaining after a few more hours.”
“I wish we could stay long enough to watch it all turn to ash,” replied Wilson. “It does seem like a little shame that the fires are likely going to burn off the atmosphere before they finally choke. Seems this might’ve made a good world for humanity.”
Ray chuckled. “There’s little chance anyone but ourselves will ever make it hear again.”
Naomi pushed her head into her helmet and again darkened her visor. It would not speak well of a captain to show her tears upon the moment her crew proudly enacted humanity’s revenge upon the starfly. Something cracked within Naomi as she watched those golden spires burn like candles before collapsing into piles of ash. She could not forget that they once stood as beautiful things. The flames would not cleanse their memory from her mind. She would remember the curves, the lines and the colors that stood on that landscape, and Naomi feared that the image of those mighty spires would fill her dreams through the long centuries it would take before she might finally float back home.
“I should start the protocol for ascent launch so we can rendezvous with the ‘Retribution,’” Ray turned her attention away from the fires. “We’ve got a long float ahead of us.”
Wilson smiled. “Do you think we’ll be heroes when we get back home?”
“I don’t know,” Ray replied. “I don’t even know if anyone will be left to remember.”
Naomi found that she no longer cared.
* * * * *
About the Writer
Brian S. Wheeler resides in rural, Southern Illinois with his wife Erin and his young daughter Kate in a home shared with three German shepherds and a small cat named Izzy. Brian has worn many hats to earn a living. He has worked as a high school English teacher and community college composition instructor. For many years, Brian worked as a marketing manager and a graphic designer for a very successful auction company. Brian has also freelanced as a designer and consultant, and he has just completed vocational training in the welding trade. Writing is Brian’s favorite activity, and he works to one day realize his dream of earning a living by crafting stories of fantasy and science fiction.
The rural Midwest inspires much of Brian's work, and he hopes any connections readers might make between his fiction and the places and people he has had the pleasure to know are positive. When not writing, Brian does his best to keep organized, to get a little exercise, or to try to train good German Shepherd dogs. He remains an avid reader. More information regarding Brian S. Wheeler, his novels, and his short stories can be found by visiting his website at https://www.flatlandfiction.com.
Visit Brian S. Wheeler Online
Find Brian S. Wheeler’s newest short stories and novels online by visiting his website at www.flatlandfiction.com. Brian always welcomes feedback and thoughts sent to his email at
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