2. The Space Ghosts

When evening finally fell, Casjara already had ten soldiers for her army. At first there were twelve, until some mysteriously vanished. And that was apparently the limit in the eyes of the others.

The colony was summoned around the landing spot of the rocket. That spot always grew into the central square of every colony, because a gigantic spaceship was easily visible from everywhere.

The captain no longer wore a uniform, though he spoke solemnly. “I have sad news. Someone is breaking into the rocket, stealing our belongings, and … murdering our fellow people.”

“Murder? So it’s certain? No accident?” said Hera. The whole group looked at her. She hid her face behind a book. I just blurt out everything, she thought. The captain hates me already.

“It was no accident. These people died from weapons, from a murderer. The wounds are too severe and a message was left in their bodies.”

The captain walked forward calmly, but clearly lifted his shirt to show a gun. Casjara was right: there had to be a weapons storage onboard the rocket.

“Some victims had weapons themselves. Some were rich and had valuable possessions. I don’t believe the rumors that alien beings live here.”

He stopped walking when he stood in front of Casjara, surrounded by her gang of black-clad soldiers. Hera knew they didn’t have any weapons—but the rest didn’t know that.

“I believe the perpetrator is among us.”

Casjara exploded. “Do you know who you’re talking to? My father was the last military advisor of Aprania! The second most powerful man in the country!”

“Your father would’ve fled the moment he saw the first dead body, and wisely so. Something tells me you’re not advocating for that strategy.”

“My father was a coward!”

Casjara pointed at the exhausted and terrified people in the circle. “If he hadn’t fled like a scared rabbit, we would now be living in a flourishing Aprania, without opponents.”

“He couldn’t have known that. He made the best choice for the moment, a choice that allows us to still be alive.” The captain didn’t lose sight of Casjara. The Space Regulators formed their own little army behind his back. “Provide a better explanation, or you leave me no choice.”

Hera could no longer bear to watch and jumped in between. She pushed Casjara further away, but she didn’t budge.

“Can I see the victims?” Hera ased. “I’m a linguist. I can better translate the symbols. Maybe it is an alien being that through miscommunication—”

“Miscommunication?” Casjara spit out the word. “Ten people were brutally murdered within a day.”

She stepped forward and pressed her forehead against the captain’s, in a battle of who had the strongest neck. “There are other beings here and my army is going to save us all from those devils.”

“Weapon possession by citizens is prohibited.” The captain took out his handcuffs.

Casjara shamelessly lifted her clothing. “I don’t have any weapons, see for yourself.”

The captain was stunned and unsure what to do. Hera looked for a way out. The hollow eyes of the crowd mainly showed disinterest at dealing with any more nonsense. They all just wanted to live safely.

Except Simmo. He was the only one sitting on a rock, far from this conversation.

“Simmo!” she shouted. “Come over here!”

Glazed eyes looked at her. His body froze, hunched over. The more people stared at him, the less he was able to move. Think before you speak, thought Hera, now he’s definitely going to run away again.

“He wants to flee,” said Hera quickly. “I think many people would rather flee. Why don’t we let the colony vote?”

“We can’t flee,” grumbled the captain. “Our fuel is depleted and the rocket is damaged.”

Casjara was able to walk back to her army without handcuffs. Instead, however, she walked over to Simmo. She pulled him off the rock, shook him until his limbs could move again, and brought him before the captain.

“Just say it, boy. Do you want to flee? Are you a coward? Are you letting those beings—those murderers—go free? Or are you willing to fight with us?”

“Yes.”

Just that one word, softly spoken. Everyone leaned forward to hear what he would say next, but nothing came.

“Yes to the fighting?”

“Yes, I’m a coward. We have to flee.”

Casjara growled and pushed him into Hera’s arms. He smelled of sweat and his hair hadn’t been washed since the previous century. She fortunately didn’t have to accept his awkward embrace for long, as a small group walked up to him.

“We also think it’s better if we leave. We have to look for fuel together.”

Hera felt Simmo turn around and tense up, so she guided him into the group’s arms.

“Be careful out there,” she whispered. Simmo’s nodding head wasn’t exactly convincing.

Hera regretted that she had gone along with Casjara, even though she didn’t really have a choice.

It was dark. Casjara refused to turn on her flashlight. It would wake up those other beings; it would give away their location. So they navigated by the faint light of her receptor.

And by sound. Every crackle that first sounded like someone turning in their sleeping bag, or leaves falling, now sounded like a panting monster standing behind you. We’re making them bigger than they are, she told herself. Surrounded by this little army I’m safer than anywhere else.

Then she imagined the dead people again and forgot to breathe from the fear.

They’d walked through the dark for at least an hour, without any sign of life. Their only discovery was a pile of smashed water bottles and some blankets hanging in a tree.

She whispered: “And why are we doing this now?”

“We’re not used to these long days. These beings are.”

“If they exist.”

Casjara stopped abruptly and sighed. “And how do you think those people died then? They all just happened to fall on their own weapons?”

“I think of every possibility at once. Only when I see evidence do I know what’s true.”

Casjara shook her head. She had made spears herself, from shards of glass on top of wooden sticks, and tapped Hera on the shoulder with one of them.

“Good thing you’re not a soldier. You think exactly the wrong way around. These beings will be used to the long nights, so they’ll probably sleep the whole time.”

“If these beings need to sleep too.”

“You know what? Maybe you should go read a book again.”

“If I had light.” Hera grinned and gave Casjara a little kiss on the cheek. “Just don’t do anything stupid. Don’t run into danger—”

When Hera took her next step, she already felt something was off. The ground was a soft bump. It feels like … home, she thought. Not this hard purple planet.

A buzzing sound filled her left ear.

“Dive!”

Hera followed the command. An arrow quivered in the rock next to her.

Casjara lashed out at ghosts and managed to hit one too. A cry of pain echoed across the area. Something slithered past Hera’s shoes, and she suddenly understood why Simmo instantly fled from everything.

The soldiers stabbed their homemade spears into the dark. They all return broken.

Casjara wrapped herself around Hera like a shield and walked backwards.

“We need real weapons,” she shrieked. “Retreat! Retreat!”