The Doomsday Stones

By Jebraun Clifford

My first assignment sounds simple enough. Contact the sentient life form on the ice planet Kalari Five, inform them of their sun’s imminent supernova, and assist the United Planet Corp with their relocation.

The reality, however, is far more complicated.

“I thought Farons were qualified empaths.” Lieutenant Jash, a Drik, folds four enormous arms across his well-muscled chest.

I smooth the bristling fur on my wrist. “We are.” My breath creates frosty clouds in the pre-dawn dim. “But I’m having difficulty—”

“What Salah’s saying is she can’t do her job,” mutters Sergeant Goss, one of the humans in our mission. “Knew we should’ve rounded up the aliens as soon as we landed. They’d be safe, and this whole sector could go kaboom with us far, far away. Job done.”

I blink. “You realize we’re the aliens?”

He cocks his head, staring pointedly at me. “Or we could strand ’em on this rock.”

Frustration radiates from the other members of our expedition. I glance around the stony-faced humans, Driks, and the one Claspt. Her breathing mask hides her face, but no doubt she’s scowling, too. Their resentment trickles down my spine and lodges in my two stomachs.

We’ve been here five standard weeks, and I’ve made no headway with the Kalari. They’ve accepted our presence, though I still cringe over my first bumbling attempts communicating with them through thoughts. My introduction was the equivalent of me nice, star bad.

I explain again. “They’re aware their sun will explode but also convinced they’re not in danger. Every time I mention evacuating”—I motion toward the massive rock structure half a click away—“they take me to the Standing Stones. Again.”

Lieutenant Jash shrugs. “If you can’t persuade them to get on the transport in the next forty-eight hours, we’ll forcibly remove them.”

“But that’s a violation of their self-determination!”

“How idealistic of you. But it’s for their own safety.” He presses an index finger against my sternum, nearly knocking me over. “Forty. Eight. Hours.”

Goss smirks.

I trudge from our base camp to the Standing Stones and arrive just in time.

The Kalari, reminiscent of Terran emperor penguins, have already gathered for their morning ritual. A breeze ruffles their thick gray feathers, and I shiver despite my warm pelt. They hum, a low rumble sweeping through them. Every gaze fixes on the space between the two pillars.

The sky brightens, and the Kalari’s collective anticipation ripples over me like warm, healing water. Such yearning. Such hope. A sliver of the ancient crimson star peeks over the horizon, slightly off-center through the two Standing Stones. In a moment, the sun is in the air, casting its wan light on the planet’s pock-marked surface, and the hum ceases.

The Kalari leader, Flrrr, greets me with the image of her well-feathered nest tucked in the rocky cliff side.

“Srrr,” she trills. Welcome. Her approximation of my name usually makes me smile, but not today.

I picture the sun’s reflection on the ice-encrusted lake. Star beautiful. And it is. If only it wasn’t going to explode, wiping them all out.

Her joy at my acknowledgement blooms in my chest.

Wait.

Could emotion convey the urgency? If I were frightened enough, would she understand? Heart pounding, I summon fear, imagining their sun going supernova.

She shakes her head and leads me closer to the Stones.

“Yes, I know.” Impatience laces my thoughts and voice. “You’ve shown me this before.”

She touches my temple with downy wingtips. In her mind, I witness the sun rising again and again between the Stones until its path blurs together in one continual arc across the sky. She shows me each Kalari’s face, from Mrrr, the eldest, to Clrrr, the infant hatched yesterday. Each one confident. Jubilant. I stare into her whirling orange eyes, willing myself to discern her meaning, but all I take from the encounter is her absolute assurance of their safety and ours. What could they be waiting for?

Flrrr looks over my shoulder, quavering. I spin around. The Corp.

Goss approaches us. “We’ve got orders to evacuate.” Soldiers fan out and herd the Kalari together.

I grab Goss’s arm. “No!”

He shakes me off.

I sprint back to base camp and skid to a stop in front of Lieutenant Jash. “You said forty-eight hours.”

“The star’s destabilized. We need to leave. Now.” The comm unit beeps, and he taps it. “Yes?”

“Goss here. Sir, the Kalari refuse to budge. How much force can we use?”

Lieutenant Jash glances sideways at me.

“Please,” I whisper. “They’re expecting something incredible. Not disaster.”

He purses his lips, scanning the monitor, and sighs. “Stand down, Sergeant. I’ll be right there.” He points to me. “You have until sunrise.”

When Lieutenant Jash and I get to the others, the Kalari have locked wings around the Stones. Nothing I communicate persuades them to move. The red sun passes overhead, Lieutenant Jash continually checking the readings. We wait through an anxious night.

Right before dawn, the Kalari begin to hum. The planet rumbles, and the ice on the lake cracks.

“Is this where we all die?” Goss hisses.

I focus on Flrrr, her head tipped back, her eyes closed. The hum grows louder. Louder. Wincing, I cover my tufted ears.

Again, the red sun makes an appearance, but now it’s centered exactly between the two Standing Stones. The hum reaches a crescendo. A blinding flash sears the horizon. The air pulsates, and a wave of energy races toward us. It presses against me, through me, every molecule inside me lifting, renewing.

And the sun leaps into the sky, yellow, warm, young, bathing us with its golden radiance.

The Kalari squeak and dance around the Stones triumphantly.

Goss’s mouth is open. “What happened?”

I exchange glances with Flrrr. That’s what she tried to share with me.

“They knew the sun would regenerate.” I can’t stop the grin stretching across my face. I turn to Lieutenant Jash. “Sir, permission to cancel the evacuation?”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Too short to be an elf and too tall to be a Hobbit, Jebraun Clifford lives smack-dab in the centre of New Zealand’s North Island surrounded by thermal activity, stunning lakes, and enough Redwoods to make her Californian heart swoon. She writes about discovering identity, living without fear, and enjoys creating fantastic worlds. She loves coffee, tree ferns, dark chocolate, and Jesus, and harbours a secret penchant for British spelling.

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