Through the Kisandra Prism (23 page)

The group looks around waiting for a response; the only reaction is a faint rustle in the leaves and undergrowth: then motionless silence. Blodwyn felt uneasy, she could see the Ida Jaade felt the same; their red crests still upright in fear.

‘Perhaps the life-form does not understand our communication,’ says Centurion Marcus.

‘Even Primitives,’ answers Sebus, ‘can judge friendship from aggression. Hand me some soil,’ says Sebus.

The Admiral tests the soil with his sensor.

‘Break off a small branch… not from a vine… but from a tree and cast it on the ground,’ whispers Sebus. Marcus the Centurion complies. As soon as the branch touches the earth, five pale worm-like long fingers with star-shaped tips pushed out of the earth: rapidly pulling the branch underground.

‘It is as I feared.’ Says Sebus solemnly… this planet is starved of nutrients…because no plant ever dies…the soil is devoid of all trace elements… explaining the excitement at our presence…we are just looked upon as potential food for the hungry trees… as fertilizer!

Blodwyn was now afraid – very afraid. The creepers seemed to be slowly enclosing them. Turning quickly she saw one of the large flowers staring at her! The dark center was in fact a living watching eye. Blodwyn whispers to Sebus what she had just seen. The Galla Quall had already noticed.

‘We should move to more open ground Admiral,’ advises Marcus the Centurion.

The group slowly moves to another patch of clear ground. The red crests of the Ida Jaade now stand proud with anxiety.

‘Look! Admiral,’ exclaims an Ida Jaade, turning around, ‘the way back to the frigate is now overgrown – we are cut off and cannot escape.’

‘We are trapped sir.’ says another excitable Ida Jaade warrior.’

‘Galus the Galla Quall looks around and tries again to communicate.

‘We come in peace… if our presence is not desired… allow us to leave unharmed.’

‘Shall I ask the war-ship to use laser-cannon to clear the way back to the frigate Admiral?’ asks the Centurion.

‘No,’ answers Sebus, ‘our powerful weapons may destroy the only life-form or lie-forms that can help to save our species from extinction…we will be killing our only hope…we have to find a solution to extinction… before the final battle with the Cold-bloods…we cannot give up now.’

‘Admiral,’ whispers Galus, do you feel what is happening underground?’

‘Yes,’ answers Sebus, ‘I can sense movement coming towards us, from every different direction.’

‘There is only one more patch of open ground ahead Admiral.’ exclaims the Centurion, ‘the creepers are closing more rapidly now.’

‘The life-form is now aware that we know its intentions towards us,’ says Admiral Sebus… it is escalating our demise.

The group move quickly to the last area of open ground. On their way they see a foreboding sight. Jal Mar and Dandy Indra armed frigates weighing over four thousand Earth tons, had been lifted off the ground by the creepers; they hung high in the tree canopy crushed and entwined by powerful tendrils.

Half way up, hanging from green vines like puppets, Blodwyn could see many grinning skeletons with rotting uniforms. She could recognize the three aliens by the shape of their skulls and their teeth. She had met them on her first adventure searching for the Alder Dom: The Jal Mar, by their elongated African mask-shaped heads; the Kar-Sarr by their filed teeth and the Dandy Indra by their long simian canines. On the ground more skeletons were slowly being drawn down into the earth: fertilizer! Near-by several trees had been felled by these aliens. The felled trees were still bleeding purple blood.

‘We know why the Jal Mar, their Ka-Saar warriors and the Dandy Indra were here,’ says Sebus, (All the dead aliens still use timber to build their homes.) ‘The life form or life forms on this planet,’ continues Sebus, ‘are not only short of fertilizer but are also protecting their trees…they, you could say, are dedicated gardeners… like us. Maybe they are even part of the trees they protect.’

Reaching the last clearing, the Ida Jaade warriors form a circle around Blodwyn and the frail blue-frocked Galla Qualls.

‘We will protect the Qualls and the female Terasil to the death – just like the Roman Pectoral guard,’ orders Marcus the Centurion.

‘This life-form may think we are helpless Admiral…we should fire an Arion torpedo at the distant hills to show our power,’ suggests Galus.

‘No,’ answers Admiral Sebus, ‘one of the final secrets of our survival lies somewhere here… we may destroy the very thing that could save our species. I will like to try once more to relay our friendship…lay your swords on the ground…they are cutting weapons after all.’

All the warriors comply; such is the trust of the Ida Jaade for the leadership of the Galla Qualls.

Blodwyn could now feel activity below her!

‘Something is now under my feet,’ Blodwyn whispers to Sebus.

‘Be calm…stand still,’ answers the Galla Quall.

They watch in horror as green tendrils quickly collect the swords, and drag them back into the tangle.

‘Contact the ship,’ orders Admiral Sebus, ‘prime an Arion torpedo… wait for my signal…this life-form or life-forms it seems cannot be appeased.’

‘Admiral!’ exclaims Galus, ‘commutation with the battleship has been blocked…by a powerful force field… they have even lost visual contact with us…they are not aware of our serious predicament.’

‘It seems I have underestimated the Worm-eaters,’ says Sebus, ‘the Shi-Larriss and the Calara Shimmerings were wiser.’ Sebus turns to Blodwyn, ‘Accept my apologies…our adventures have hardly begun!’

Blodwyn put on her calmest face; but her heart raced with fear, strangely she heard herself reply calmly,

‘I knew the risks…you have done your best.’

‘Prepare for battle.’ Orders the Admiral

The Ida Jaade warriors draw their daggers and weapons for a last stand; the Centurion Marcus cocks his proton laser. A tendril reaches towards an Ida Jaade, with one slash he cuts and severs it with his dagger. The tendril falls to the ground, wiggling in agony, like an injured worm, bleeding bright purple blood.

‘Plants that experience extreme pain!’ exclaims Sebus with interest. The severed tendril is quickly pulled underground by the star-headed life-forms: the nutrients recycled. The Ida Jaade Centurion opens fire with his laser on the encroaching tendrils; they screech in agony and fall to the ground burning. But other tendrils take their place, with the same results. Blodwyn knew when the power of the laser faded they would be doomed.

Blodwyn also knew… even though the Ida Jaade will defend bravely to the last there is little chance of survival against all the vigorous plant growth of Signusgragg. The Worm-eaters would win in the end: they would have their fertilizer! Sebus and Galus the Galla Qualls just watched calmly, their large dark eyes expressionless; Blodwyn often wondered if they had any nerves in their frail bodies.

To everyone’s surprise some of the vine tips swell and large thorns appear forming primitive clubs. Other vines push from the undergrowth holding the short gladius swords of the Ida Jaade, ready for battle.

Blodwyn just hoped the end would be quick; nothing else entered her mind. Tendrils were now attacking from above – they would soon blot out the light – she would die in darkness.

‘Admiral Sebus suddenly seems to remember something. His delicate three-digit tentacle reaches into his flimsy, pale blue robe. Slowly he takes out the large colorful seed-pod of the legendary Tarmirian Paradise tree. Holding the seed-pod up in plain view, he then gently places the seed-pod on the ground and stands back.

‘Pour water on the seed-pod Marcus,’ orders Admiral Sebus.

‘Admiral – we have no water!’ exclaims the Centurion. The group watches as much thicker powerful tendrils arch threateningly down towards them; the laser’s power was now fading! A long moment passes Blodwyn’s pulse and imagination was in overdrive. “Would her bleached skeleton be hanging from tendrils, grinning down at the next group of unsuspecting visitors to this forbidden planet, a planet that only saw visiting life-forms as plant food?” she ponders.

Then she cleared her mind “all problems can be solved if given enough thought” – it came to her. She had a bottle of water in her back-pack, taken from the lake. Quickly, she removes the bottle and slipping between the strong scaly legs of the Ida Jaade warriors she pours water on the seed-pod; rapidly slipping back into the middle of the group. A suspended period of still silence dominates.

‘Admiral,’ announces the Galla Quall, Zander looking at his hand-held scanner. ‘All the underground movements towards us… have slowed down.’

With a raised tentacle, Sebus signals the Ida Jaade to remain still; his gentle large liquid eyes look around; he addresses the unknown life-forms again.

‘I am Admiral Sebus a Galla Quall… we do not come to kill trees…we do not come to mine zircon…we are gardeners… like your selves, respecting all plant life and their needs…our garden is known as False Arcadia…perhaps one day you may come to see it? We leave you a gift… a rare seed of ancient legend… from another distant Galaxy… a Tarmirian Paradise Tree ….a tactile and intelligent plant…just like yourselves. It was given to us by two Calara Shimmerings.’

There is an animated conversation of small voices in the undergrowth; as if discussing the statement’s authenticity. Blodwyn remembered the small feather belonging to the wounded, Calara Shimmering that she had picked up on the planet of the Gols: she quickly placed it on the ground near the seed-pod as confirmation of the Galla Quall’s statement.

Excited chatter of small voices from deep in the undergrowth at this action.

‘Many advanced intelligent species,’ continues Sebus, ‘have tried unsuccessfully to germinate this beautiful tree…perhaps you will have more luck…after all…you have green fingers.’

Blodwyn heard the voices again; distant, excited, thin voices chattering; strangely she could not pinpoint the direction that the voices came from. A thin delicate green tendril appears and gently touches the seed-pod then the delicate Shimmering feather; it then withdraws.

‘Admiral,’ whispers Galus ‘all the movement from above is now turning away from us… focusing on the Tarmirian seed-pod of the Paradise tree.’ Blodwyn breathed a huge sigh of relief – maybe she was not going to end up as fertilizer.

The group watch fascinated; light, tender green delicate tendrils pierce the surface of the ground and surround the large beautiful seed-pod. Each tendril in turn gently touches, caresses the seed almost lovingly, like a doting mother gently caresses her young baby. Then all tendrils place their tips on the seed. Slowly the seed begins to swell; then splits. A squat, tender green growth appears and slowly starts to climbs upwards.

The touching tendrils seem to be charging, pulsing energy into the seedling; like a battery. The plant grows at a much accelerated rate, before their eyes. First buds appear then tender leaves. Soon a small tree is at its full height of seven feet. Beautiful blossoms of pale blue, red, yellow and pink appear from the swollen buds; some flowers were exact replicas of the ones growing on the once threatening vines. Faint excited voices again, this time accompanied by delighted laughter from the tangle of foliage. The voices are almost child-like, barely audible: much closer now!

Two of the tendrils then turn towards the group. The tendrils seem to grow at will and arch downwards like large snakes; one reaches for an Ida Jaade warrior; his red crest shoots up rampant with fear.

‘Be calm… stay perfectly still,’ says Admiral Sebus, who then holds out his delicate three-digit, tentacled arm towards the tendril for inspection.

The delicate tip of the tendril swells; a purple elfin-like, head appears, the face is pensive – tentative. Two slender arms now appear below the face, each arm also with three delicate pale purple fingers, matching exactly those of the Galla Quall, Sebus. The Cautious slim fingers of this unknown life-form and the blue delicate tentacles of the Galla Quall touch; a kind of visible fusion occurs.

Tendrils also gently wrap around Blodwyn’s ankles before she knew what was happening. More tendrils wrap themselves around all in the group briefly, as if testing. Satisfied, all tendrils return to their peers. Again… distant child-like voices seemed to discuss the findings of the tendrils.

Satisfied, the attention of all the tendrils are drawn again to the beautiful flowering Paradise tree. The arching tendrils admiringly and gently stroke and trace the outline of the colorful blooms with delicate fingers, with the appreciation of a connoisseur; there are distant sighs of appreciation. A tendril plucks a flower, just like the one Blodwyn had tried to smell before it had frightened her. A smiling, elfin-like head appears and smells the bloom, as if it remembered her attempt to smell a flower earlier; now it was showing her that it was safe to smell the bloom. It then offers the bloom to Blodwyn. She curtsies. Again: talk and laughter from the invisible audience. All those times that she and Myfanwy had spent curtsying to each other, just in case they ever met royalty, was now paying off with her meeting with these aliens.

The blossoms of the paradise tree soon begin falling in a colorful cascade and are replaced by swelling, differing kinds of exotic fruits; which quickly ripen. Some fruits drop from the tree; the beautiful seed-pods open spilling seeds on the earth.

A tendril touches a seed, a small green plant appears; the sapling of a Paradise tree, its growth speeded up a thousand fold. This small plant is offered to Sebus who acknowledges it with a bow of his large round head.

‘We should leave now,’ says Admiral Sebus, we now know how the Worm-eaters can help us. They possess an amazing power to accelerate growth… I believe they may also be able to accelerate evolution! If we can return to the distant past and bring back our small distant ancestors …?’ Admiral Sebus does not finish the sentence; perhaps it is just too much to hope for.

‘Admiral,’ exclaims Galus, ‘contact with the Time-ship has been resumed.’

The group slowly begins to make its way back to the frigate; the vines covering the pathways withdraw making the pathway visible again. However once in sight of the frigate, the group are shocked to see their craft has been lifted three hundred feet high into the top of the forest canopy – encased within powerful creepers. All the crests of the Ida Jaade shoot upright with anger and fear.