In The Year Of The Wind

 

Those of us who survive live in a deep fissure in the stone of this planet. The surface cities are dead, unlivable. It is a storm year. The wind has taken them all. Our years last many lifetimes. 

We make do with the remaining water at the very bottom of our last refuge. On the cliff-like edges of our remaining shelter, we maintain small outcroppings supporting the plants we eat.

I was the youngest here. A female.

Terrible winds strip the surface. There is only the wind and the sand shifting as it blows long and hot. If I attend to the sound of it, it is like the howling of some immeasurable animal. But we don’t attend to it, for the sake of sanity.

And yet, something lives on the surface. For a time, I have sensed that someone is there. I sense that there is breath and that something is terribly wrong. I could not stop knowing it. I could not sleep because of the urgency of knowing.

So, at last I prepared myself to go to the surface. I changed my form; it is a skill we have. I became something like a low-profile arachnid. The sandy storm would mostly blow over my back hopefully causing little damage. Under my carapace I held a bladder of water and a bladder of berries. One of my 12 legs was dedicated to holding these things.

I had given myself eyes all around the outside of my flat shell. Tough little blue eyes.

Thus prepared I took the old path up out of our fissure. I moved slowly, but at last I came up into the open. The sunlight was dim and tawny in color. The everlasting wind blew as strongly as ever. I had prepared myself well though, it did not roll me over.

At some distance I could see a light. Just one. It appeared to flash on and off and be part of some kind of structure. This had to be the source of the knowing I felt.

Slowly, I moved over the sand toward this thing. I did not fear it. I felt the urgency to preserve life if I could.

As I neared, I could see that it was a vehicle of some kind. It had to have come from the sky. There was no other way for it to be there. It seemed intact. The light continued to flash on and off like a beacon.

There were small transparent discs along the sides of the vehicle. I couldn’t see into it. Too dark.

I transformed through the stuff of it to come inside. The air was breathable. Fortunately. It was dark except for a bank of instrument lights.

Then I saw that there was a living one lying on the floor. I saw that he was beautiful to look upon. My heart changed within me.

I saw that he slept. As he slept, I entered his mind and looked upon his memories. I saw that he was alone in all the worlds and I wept for him in my heart for his heart was very sweet and strong.

I saw that he considered beauty much. I saw paintings and statues and women that he had looked upon and I changed my form again, laying aside the water and the berries. I became as a woman who came out of the sea on a mighty shell. Blond and tender I became. I gave myself a simple blue gown like the sky on his home planet. I learned his language as he slept.

I waited, sitting on a piece of tumbled equipment of some sort.

I sent some of my strength to him. I stirred him. I watched to see if he would wake.

Finally, he sat up. He rubbed his eyes, looking at his instruments and all around the enclosed area. He stood up and then he saw me. I saw disbelief in his face.

“Who are you,” he said slowly and quietly as in a dream.

“I am only one who came to preserve life if I could. How do you come to be here on the surface in the wind?”

“I was curious, lady. I saw that perhaps there were cities here, down in that canyon. Then the wind tumbled my ship as I landed. It seems like it must have knocked me out cold.

“I fear that some part of this ship is damaged.”

“I brought water and food,” I said. “Are you thirsty, do you have hunger?”

“Well, yes, lady. Now that you mention it.”

I showed him how to drink from our water bags. Water is water, no matter where it is. So, it suited him. I opened the bag of our berries too. He ate them also. He said they were somewhat like blueberries at home.

“I have food on this little ship, lady, but something fresh is a gift.” He seemed to be getting accustomed to my presence.

“Do you know what is wrong with your ship?”

“It can’t be much. The air is working, and the lights are on. My instruments are alive. Let me check something.”

I sent out correction according to its design to all its parts with all my might. It is a skill we have.

From his seat in front of his instruments he said, “I think it’s alright. I guess the tumble hurt nothing but the captain.” He laughed at himself.

“I can go home then it looks like,” he said, looking at me. His eyes became sad. He was beautiful indeed to me.

I wept.

“Will you leave me here,” I asked him through my tears.

“Will you come with me lady? Can you live where I live? Do you know?”

“I can live wherever your presence is,” I hastened to say. “I will come with you.

“Let us say words together human man. If I am to leave my home.”

I began, “I bless the woman who bore you.”

He said as in a dream, “blessed is she who is your mother.”

“I bless he who sired you,” I followed.

“I call upon God to comfort and bless your father,” he said.

“I pray blessing on the world that formed you,” I said to him.

“I thank God for you, lady,” he said then.

I laid my head on his shoulder, he put his arms around me, I heard his heart beating.

I loved him with all of my being.