THE LIGHT NEXT TO TARAZED The sun-bleached boulders, made smooth and uniform by time, dotted the surface of the hillside. It was quiet. Every so often a lizard would scurry across the deadened, dried weeds, producing no more than a whispered rustle. But other than that, it was still. Quiet. Dry. As was usual, the boy didn’t come out until nightfall. He pulled himself out of the hole he had dug under the jutting edge of one of the many rocks. Grasping the tan stone, he hauled his body out from under it and into the cool, dark air. After a good deal of effort, he managed to sit himself up against the rock. He had to pull his legs into position perpendicular to his body. They hadn’t known much function since the crash. Breathing heavily in the absence of the energy he had just expended, he tilted his chin up, looking at the stars overhead. There was Hercules. And that point of light to the left was Vega. Immediately, the rest of the Lyra constellation snapped into formation as he scanned the sky. There was Sagitta. And M30. His eyes swept ever upward, searching. A rustling to his left him made him jump. Turning as much as his torso would allow, he saw the white flash of a rabbit’s tail disappear behind a nearby rock. He relaxed and resumed his methodical study. Talitha Borealis. Lynx. IC405. Nath. “Where are you?” he asked to the open air, his eyes never resting or leaving the heavens. His tongue moved awkwardly through the words, reminding him of his thirst. He did his best to subdue the craving. He had gone through more of his rations than he had anticipated in the last few days. Perhaps, had his craft landed somewhere less hot, he would not be running out. Or if his pod had only deployed the anti-gravity boosters, the lower half of his body wouldn’t be crippled and his legs could take him to more water. Algol. Perseus. Navi. A comet streaked through the atmosphere, making the boy shiver. No one had seen the asteroid coming until it was less than a minute from collision. That was the risk of flying in the shadow of a moon – a risk that the captain had deemed necessary. The boy’s tutor had barely managed to stuff the child into one of the escape shuttles, just as the entire ship was overcome with tremors from the impact. More likely than not, the anti-gravity boosters had been disabled then. Alderamin. Lacerta. Of course he had some basic training in navigating escape vessels – it was mandatory for all students and crew aboard an exploratory ship. But he had found it much harder to control the pod once it entered the atmosphere of this seemingly blue planet. “If ever in an emergency situation, pick a planet exhibiting signs of water,” his tutor had told him during these training sessions. “That is the key to survival.” But he had not crashed in, or even near, any of the water he had seen from above. He had found it near impossible to have any sort of bearing on the shuttle’s direction as he neared the planet’s surface. And he had seen no humans – but he was fairly certain he knew which planet this was; and if he was correct, then he knew that there had been no humans on it for centuries. M48. Hydra. Pyxis. They should be overhead. Somewhere. He looked over at the pulsating blue light that was coming from the ruined remains of the pod, which he had managed to push part way into the crevice next to his hiding spot. At least the distress beacon was still functioning. A ship should be coming soon. The rescue ship would have been sent out within minutes of the asteroid collision. They should be here by now. He let his mind wander, relaxing his focus on the sky. Perhaps his tutor had managed to find an escape pod for himself. Perhaps he would be aboard the rescue ship waiting for the boy when they found him. Or perhaps his parents would be there – having been alerted to the crash. He would like that. He hadn’t seen them since they had sent him to boarding school to become a star navigator. That was shortly after his eighth birthday. That had been almost two years ago. He wondered mutely if it was his tenth birthday yet, or if his birthday had passed. Or, even worse, if his birthday was yet to come – if he would live to see it. He had tried to judge the time by the movement of the stars overhead each night, but he had no certain way of knowing. Time passed strangely on this planet. The days were shorter than he was accustomed to. His mind sluggishly registered that his eyelids were drooping. He had tried sleeping during the days – but they were mostly too hot. Soon his thoughts began to take on the fuzzy quality they often did when on the precipice of sleep. And he was so thirsty. His head still tilted back, he let himself rest. But just before doing so, he thought he saw a blinking light. Near the Aquila constellation. Next to Tarazed. Not far from where their ship had come into contact with the rogue asteroid. In his dream-state, he couldn’t be sure that the light truly existed. Though he liked to think it did, because it was moving ever closer to him, blinking out a message in morse code. We are coming to rescue you. - END - If you would like to read the other installments of the Tarazed series, click the link below. littlewritelies/tarazed-series/
Posted on: Fri, 18 Oct 2013 05:22:50 +0000
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