In Amber Space

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. No one can shred an echo into all the voices that form in an instant inside each galaxy. And yet, I traveled on that sound. In seconds, I found myself on different dust. The soil, we called it. It's now gone.

I had no ship, and yet, I heard the sound. All else was lost, quiet, in lightning speed. My eyes still hurt from soaring faster than heartbeats.

Was it a blast? What brought me here? The planets we have conquered look nothing like this one.

Trees growing with red braches, rivers of golden liquid. What could I drink to stay alive? Can there be living things around?

I step cautiously... any noise could bring my end. My helmet is all torn. I risk a breath, another... I feel dizzy but not sick. Could this air be safe for us?

We've been living underground for so long that fresh air has become the stuff of dreams. And yet, here it is. I suddenly feel energized, ready to do anything.

No... slow down. If this air doesn't kill you, your heart might not last the rush. I recognize this feeling—adrenaline sensors set in place for intruders.

Now is the time to hide

I duck behind a purple rock oozing greenish liquid. I try not to touch anything, but a pebble gets caught. It flies from under my foot, goes down... lower... a crashing sound reverberates.

Steps, lights, a blaring sound brings tears. I crawl close to the rock. Maybe there's still a chance I haven't been seen?

Sleek ships fly a few meters away. So small I wonder who could be orbiting them... maybe they're controlled from a distance. But no... voices come from inside.

'Who's there? Are we getting more spider-ash?'

'Last time, we lost 50 of our own to that storm. Be ready to fire. Anything moving, take it down!'

I listen carefully. Something doesn't feel right. I understand their words, but they don't sound human.

Tongues come out of one ship, ready to touch the ground. Long, violet arms follow.

'Patrol this area, every inch inside the dust. Check for radiation worms. You never know where they can pop,' one of them says.

I peek from behind the rock. What are they? Not lizards, not snakes, not over 3 inches tall.

'Red, fire crawl! Poison cloud coming our way!'

'Forsake alert!'

'Everyone back to base! Whatever's out there won't live to come down on us,' the biggest ship blares all around.

What's coming?

I brace myself for an explosion, an earthquake, or a giant discharge. I see clouds gathering slowly, then lightning. Thunder... one, two, four times, and more clouds come.

Are they scared of a rainstorm on this planet?

And then I look at the river. Its water isn't golden anymore. With every drop, it turns fiery red—lava forms in seconds. Ashes go higher in the air. Thunder echoes a vacuum sound. A roar answers. What do I hear?

Inside the maddening din, I suddenly find traces of more voices.

'Aaron, come back. Where are you?' one sound comes to me. My mother's voice. Here, on this forgotten planet. How could she know? Or does she?

'He's dead; no one survives vacuum echo travel. He was wiped out of existence as soon as he went with the sound,' another voice adds. My friend... the only one I had left.

'No, we will have a rescue mission. Not confirmed is alive. We will take a ship on sound waves. Dust isn't deadly on all planets,' another calls out. I haven't met anyone as brave as my brother Anthon. He won't let go. And this time, I'm grateful.

Crying... no, I'm not weak. Tears waste water, and I can't drink anything here. Stop it. Breathe, don't choke on love.

That's all affection is good for. Killing entrails, making you hungry for more... and then there's nothing.

The ships are gone, but the storm isn't done. The river is a lava melting pot. I jump up from my hiding place. I will take my chances with the oozing rock... there's nowhere else to stay above the ground and not get burned.

They will come... what I heard, they can too.

We could conquer this place... use it, or burn it if they don't surrender. I learned long ago that resources in this galaxy matter more than taking a breath. Or love. Destroying flowers, shriveling trees, and all beauty were done millennia ago.

Here, the work is done. These trees look made of dust. The air is not contaminated, and walking is still a possibility.

Back home, we can only jump. From one hole to another. We touch a different planet each second. They wail; they hunger for us. And yet, we don't let any live too long or learn too much. Owning the galaxy takes boldness. Steering minds in the universe is within our grasp.

Could these beings show us how to do more? Clutch more? Kill love on every soil?

© 2022 Amy Christie