3. The Lonely Tree

Years in a rocket meant that Simmo didn’t even recognize the first tree he came across. It was just a tall pole in the corner of his eye, while his pupils searched for possible locations containing fuel.

As a child, Simmo had endlessly studied the rocket plans. For years, he had shouted that he wanted to become an astronaut. Until all professions he liked were taken over by computers, and now he didn’t know what he wanted to become.

Mother says that “becoming something” is the wrong idea, he thought. You already are something, you just have to discover it yourself.

At this moment, all he knew was that he wanted to get away from scary planets and alien beings.

The rocket could fly on all kinds of fuels. They could wait until they had enough solar energy, but that would take many months. They could look for plant remains, but the tree next to him was the first they had seen.

So he searched for Bombbrocks. Rock types that explode under the right pressure and can power an engine.

Simmo finally leaned against the tree and felt that fine touch of wood. “A tree!”

A woman with red hair leaned next to him. “One tree? Shouldn’t that become a forest over time?”

Vaia had gathered this group, but they looked to him as if he had all the answers. I don’t have any answers. Why are they doing this? Is this a bad joke?

The longer they followed him, the more he realized it wasn’t a joke. This group wanted to flee, not fight or ignore, and he was apparently their leader.

He didn’t know how to be a leader. But he made an attempt, because the sooner they left, the better.

“We think it’s a tree. Life here might work very differently, though. Maybe animals don’t breathe, but live off sunlight. Maybe they walk on three legs.”

“Marvelous.” Vaia stroked the grooves in the tree. Or whatever plant it was. “Life originated here in its own way. You’re right. We think life works a certain way … but maybe that’s very different here.”

“Maybe all life here is invisible.”

“Maybe they have no legs, but bounce over the ground!” Vaia’s little daughter ran into her arms.

“Maybe they never need to eat or drink. They live forever!”

Simmo’s head filled with possibilities, as if a wall had been broken. People had thousands of assumptions about how life had to work. It consisted of cells, it died at some point, you could touch it, and much more.

But what if none of that turns out to be true? he thought. What if this is just one kind of life, while there are many more? Maybe we’ll learn all the secrets of the universe here.

As soon as he thought that, the wall cemented itself again. No, they would be murdered by these bloodthirsty beings if they didn’t leave quickly.

And as if someone eavesdropped on his thoughts, he heard shrieks coming from camp.

The whole group looked at each other. Simmo’s reaction was predictable.

He ran the other way.

Hera tried to look behind her, but didn’t dare to, afraid to misstep and fall. Casjara did it for her.

“Do you see anything? What’s following us? Are they close?”

“I see nothing!”

“Oh fud, you’ve gone blind!? Are the beings in your eyes?”

“I’m not blind. I just don’t see who’s chasing us.”

A threatening orchestra of stomping feet and chattering beaks pushed at their backs. Sometimes a piece of rock shot through the air, or Hera thought she felt a hot breath, but they saw nothing.

She also didn’t know what to expect. Her eyes searched for the shapes of a tiger, a lion, an ape, a wolf. For the face, the snout, the tail, the colors of the animals she knew.

Casjara suddenly turned left, behind a large rock that hid the whole group.

“Uh, honey, our colony is the other way—”

“I know where our colony is. We’re leading the beings away on purpose, so they don’t find the others.”

“But … but … then we’re like bait. Fud fud fud, we’re all going to die!”

“Don’t be so dramatic!”

“I’m allowed to be dramatic! We’re being hunted by evil spirits!”

A thought pushed itself forward. Spirits. She had once read that people probably came from the Gosti, also called ghost animals. They were named that because they were tiny and climbed high up in trees, so you never saw them, even if there were thousands.

There weren’t much trees around here. How would a ghost animal look on this planet? If life starts here, how does it work?

By the time she finished thinking, she realized the group had come to a complete stop. The surroundings were calm. Her feet ached. Did I imagine all of it? she thought. Maybe those sounds were my own fear.

Suddenly, the whole group was brightly lit, as if someone had turned on the sun. People ran towards them in panic with flashlights in hand. Around the landing area, houses were demolished left and right.

“They went to the camp after all,” said Casjara breathlessly.

“They are intelligent beings, at least.”

And then Hera knew. On their planet, nature was brown and green, so almost all animals shared those colors to blend in and hide.

But this planet was purple. There were also hardly any plants or hills, no reason to fly or climb.

“Look for something purple that slithers close to the ground,” she said. “Possibly with large teeth to eat other beings. Or rock. Who knows what’s their food source.”

Casjara grabbed her second spear, the only one still intact. She crept crouched towards the camp, where the sound and lights faded.

Hera didn’t dare follow. She watched from a distance, surrounded by fleeing people, and to her amazement even the captain.

Her friend’s head spun rapidly to the left. In the same motion she threw the spear precisely in the space between a rock and the ground.

Loud wailing sounded. Like the hissing of a leaky gas pipe, slowly getting louder until it squeaked and abruptly stopped.

“Ha!” Casjara shrieked. She turned around. “They’re a bunch of purple snakelike beings. We can easily beat them. The planet is ours.”

Another snakelike being jumped on Casjara’s back and bit her arm. Her face contorted. She pulled the slimy body off her bleeding arm and tried to tear it apart in rage.

“Stop! Stop!” Hera hobbled forward.

Casjara stopped. The snakes did too.

She held out her arms and crouched lower and lower. “Stop. Peace. Talk.”

Casjara spoke with difficulty through the pain. “Don’t be so stupid.”

The snakes, however, held back and Hera could hug her friend in relief. With her teeth, Casjara pulled bandages from her pockets and bound up her own arm this way.

“It said so in the research of astronaut Mindy,” said Hera with a trembling voice. “About communicating with animals. They seem to understand a few words and gestures. Rabbits and hares especially. We’re pretty tall, which is super intimidating, so you have to lower yourself to the animal’s level.”

“Who’s Mindy?”

“Oh fud. My role model. My heroine. Do you ever listen?”

“You say too much to always listen.”

The people gathered on their side of the camp. Mothers pulled children close against them, while fathers held sharp rocks in hand.

Behind the snakelike beings, their own army came to life. Where Hera thought she looked at rocks, purple beings stood that looked like soft elephants. Pieces of grass turned out to be rabbit ears and a bump on the ground proved to be a purple turtle.

They all vaguely resembled animal species she knew from Somnia. But their teeth and claws were often much bigger and sharper, able to easily break the tough rocky ground. Their skin wasn’t just purple: some had even mimicked the cracks in the ground.

“So there’s a lot of them,” said Casjara. “We need weapons and a bigger army.”

“Please don’t attack,” said Hera, who had placed herself between the two groups.

This time it was unnecessary, for a purple panda in front spoke.

“Attac us and ou will now wat weapos we ave.”