As it turned out, falling from the sky might have been more effective. Juujee and her emergency landing was a slow descent at an excruciatingly low angle. Her arms got sore and tired hanging off the front of the Gulliverswift, so she’d have to climb back aboard and shake them out every ten minutes. From this elevation, this went on for hours before she could prepare for any kind of landing. She watched the Sindonglahya swerving back toward her for the fourth or fifth time, realizing how much more efficient air travel was. As the crow flies, so they say.
On the approach, Juujee powered off the motor and readied for a crash landing. It was going to get ugly. She climbed on the front again, angled the balloon down, and then jumped off and out of the way at the last minute, rolling violently across the ground. The ship didn’t fare any better and smashed into some rocks, then sank on to it’s side with a sigh.
Juujee ran limping toward the Gulliverswift and managed to tie it down to a bush before it drifted anywhere. The old pilot was thrown out of the compartment and lay in a heap on the ground underneath a few ropes and boxes. She checked again for vital signs, then once satisfied, grabbed a jug, and headed in the general direction of the Sindonglahya to get water.
They had landed near a river fork on a plateau of scrubland and patchy grass. Walking toward the edge of the bank, she noticed some sandal and hoof prints in the dirt. The tracks must have been fresh, or the wind would have blown them away by now. Looking around, she couldn’t see anything but followed the prints to an area where the bank dipped and allowed for an easy climb down to the water. The river opened up here in a slow swirling pool as it split off in a new direction where she saw a group of shepherds wading downriver with a herd of goats. She let them carry on, unaware of her presence, and filled her water jug then climbed back up the river bank.
She took a big drink of water back at the ship, knelt beside the old cartographer, and held the container up to his mouth. She wasn’t sure if anything was going down until he sputtered, then quickly became unresponsive again. Now, frustrated after a few more attempts to revive him, she impulsively poured the cold water over his head. Finally, she got a better response as he flailed his arms, punching the air and cursing.
“Hey, calm down there!” Juujee interrupted, pushing her foot onto his leg and then off again, “You looked thirsty,” she smirked and shrugged a little, “Hey listen, I’m Juujee. And you and I have been on a little adventure. I found you passed out on the ship. You almost crashed into the station at Mount Magnet!”
Still confused and disoriented, the pilot grumbled in a hoarse voice, “What happened here?” gesturing at the overturned fuselage and balloon shifting in the wind. He looked around, twitched a little, then abruptly grabbed the combination tube container that had rolled out beside him. Still on the ground, he put it down again, hiding it behind his leg, then he changed the subject, “Okay…Jujee, looks like we’ve had a bit of a spill. Hup hup. No follies. We can right it. Fix it up. Be on the move. Up and away. Right again, light again. Venture bound, lost or found!”
“Sure, sure,” said Juujee, nodding, thinking this was the logical thing to do, “ I’m looking for my friend Dez. Think you can help me find them?—you know—seeing how I saved your butt and everything?”
The old cartographer stared at Juujee for a moment, squinted, calculating the risk, stood up, and walked around the crash site, still not answering. Every couple of steps, he’d look back at Juujee following him hopefully. “I guess I could try. Not really ‘customed to teamin up with people. Usually goes badly in the end from my recollections, but I could try, seeing that you seem like a friendly and harmless sort.”
He looked even older now that he was awake. Bald, bearded, and hunched, his face animated with quick-shifting eyes, framed by a whorl of wrinkles and bushy white eyebrows. “What’s your name?” asked Juujee, then joked, “I’m assuming it’s not Supercellestial Cartography,” pointing at the name on his jacket.
“Ah indeed, it’s not.” He paused for a moment. Their Tads started to mingle, and he clapped his hands then slapped his chest twice, separately with each palm, making a galloping sound over and over. With a reverberating voice, he rhymed,
“Out in the over, skies of the free
Supercelestial Cartography
Faces, traces, and places fecund
Here at your service, name’s Maggis Thunde”
Juujee found herself galloping along, grinning, and spontaneously blurted,
“Juujee Mahbekbinder far from home
How did she get here? Very few know
Sucksnails and mingles and broken birds
Ferrys, airships, and river goat herds”
Maggis interrupted the mingle with a big laugh, doubling over coughing, then recovering, “I wasn’t expecting that. That was good. Bright thing. Lil wing. Bee Sting. Double Ring.”
Juujee was just as surprised at what happened.
He continued, “That’s what I call a Nonagon. Nine syllables, rhyming in lines, beats of nines. You just caught a good wave there and stomped one out like a champ!”, he kept laughing, “Been a long time since I had a sucksnail. Oooohwee.”
In the morning, Captain Pearl was gearing to leave when some of the crew asked if they could chase down a few goats they'd seen wandering around, desperately wanting to add a little variety to their diet.
“I’ve never seen so many picky fish hatin’ sailors in all the days…” complained the Captain, trying to make eye contact with any of the crew who sheepishly kept their heads down, trying to look busy, “Go on then—and make it quick, You’ve got an hour, then I’m off, with you or without!”
Dez jumped at the chance to explore and didn’t want to be one of the ones left behind with Captain Pearl.
“Keep an eye on that one,” shouted the Captain as they scattered out across the plateau.
It was flat here, but the big clumps of bushes and saltgrass obscured the horizon. Anything could happen as you rounded a tall hedge or stepped over a pile of rocks.
Dez and the crew fanned out and padded around softly, listening for the snorts and bleats of the grazing animals. Distracted by delicious dreams of roasted rumps and braised legs, the crew had no intention of keeping track of their new ward and moved on without paying much attention. Dez wasn’t as interested in the hunt and dragged behind the rest of the party, following bugs and butterflies.
Meandering away from the crew, Dez walked back closer to what they thought was the sound of the river swishing in the gorge. But, it wasn’t just that—there were voices too.
“Whazzat?” whispered Maggis.
“Jhtt!” said Juujee, pinching his arm, pushing a finger against her mouth. Looking up and behind at the partially deflated balloon, wishing it would also stop making noise. Maggis just looked up in the air wishing he was someplace else.
The night had been disturbing for the old pilot. He wasn’t used to being this close to the ground for this long. And Juujee, in a heightened state of empathy, felt every anxious nerve as they both tried to get some rest in between the nocturnal scurrying and distant vocal thrumming of who knows what.
Entirely on edge this morning, they crouched behind the ship, listening to footsteps flopping toward them and then suddenly—stop.
Dez rounded a bunch of shrubs and saw the crashed airship. The cockpit and cabin turned on its side, balloon thripping in the wind. They stopped, instinctively kneeling, and surveyed the site carefully. They could see two sets of footprints, but it didn’t look like anyone was around. Near the ship was a pile of provisions that might provide clues to the passengers or whatever happened here.
Under a few water jugs and chains, wedged half under the strange-looking hull was a dark cylinder, locked shut with a combination. Dez recognized this as a map case, similar to the ones under the galley bench on the Axolotl. Never one to resist a puzzle, they picked it up and started thumbing the gold rollers inscribed with numbers, shapes, and animal icons.
Circle, 3, Dragon, 4, Eagle, 2
9-9-8-1-9-9
Triangle, 3, Triangle, 3, Triangle, 3— Click, it opened.
Maggis, recognizing the sound, made a creaking gasp from the other side of the ship. Then before Juujee could hold him back, he leaped over the fuselage with surprising dexterity and tackled Dez, wrestling the map tube from their hands. Juujee followed quickly and then slowed down dramatically, smiling, as she recognized the wide-brimmed hat knocked to the ground. Dez, trying to be cool about the whole thing, saw their friend and—an opportunity to escape, patted the dust off their clothes, ignored the old wild man, picked up their hat, and addressed Juujee, “Let’s get this thing up and off the ground. I’ll explain later. There’s no time right now. Crew will be looking for me soon.”
Before she could respond, Maggis, now suddenly calm and agreeable, interjected, “Best thing I’ve heard all day. Let’s get off this dirt farm! Here, help me push us over.” Following his instructions, they coordinated the airship recovery while he tried distracting them from the tube he had shoved down the side of his uniform.
The FM Consulates across the district were inundated with visitors and messengers, all looking for an answer to the heightened but unstable mingling encounters. Even infrequent minglers were experiencing it. Some kind of altered state seemed to persist even after connections dissipated.
Along with widespread reports of psychedelic phenomena, including a sort of self-induced rhythmic trance-like state, the insect population had increased exponentially in the last week, shrouding structures, swarming neighborhoods, and screwing with the ecosystem.
Inconceivably, the insect-eating Reptilia had all but vanished from the landscape. The birds, too, seemed ineffective at putting a dent in the population, perching, nesting and walking around disinterested and confused.
The successful Fantastrigo metadido disruption strategy remained elusive to the scientific community and the consulate administrators. They couldn’t connect the pieces, let alone know what pieces to connect. There was harmony and dissonance, order and chaos, all bubbling up at once. Making sense didn’t make sense.
The Neb’s only hope now was to mount an all-out psychotic offensive, taking advantage of the humans’ highly suggestible state and triggering any kind of dissociative behavior. If they could take out the minds, the bodies would be sure to follow.
Captain Pearl walked through the water along the shore to cool off while waiting for Dez and the rest to return. She kicked at some fish and splashed some water on her arms and face. A couple of crew stayed behind in case she had to make good on her promise and leave without them. But the Captain had made a mistake and let Dez out of her sight. Not inclined to leave without her handy new shipmate, she was conflicted. Not following through would make the crew think her weak, and if she left, a valuable asset was lost.
“Ten more minutes!” Captain Pearl barked, echoing down the river canyon to no one in particular. Her lackeys mumbled in agreement, so she continued, knowing there was an audience. “We’re gonna plug that Tad-damn hole and see how Tommy likes it when the well runs dry!”
“See ya, Pearl!” yelled someone from above. The Captain looked up out of the gorge as a blue and orange airship crossed the sky. From the balloon cabin, Dez waved their hat and blew kisses.
“Off the ground, lost or found!” shouted Juujee standing on the bow watching the river and the strange boat shrink away.
“Shoot em down!” yelled the Captain to her henchmen. So they swiveled the gun around and shot, but the ship was too high, and the harpoon arched away and hit a goat on the plateau, grazing with a herd and their shepherds who had just encountered the Axolotl crew, causing a massive dust-up.
Maggis looked over his shoulder and pointed at the specks running around in the cloud of dirt below. “This is why, we vie, to fly, the sky.”
Juujee looked back with the next line, “I see what you did there, sky skipper.”
Dez caught on quickly. Feeling suddenly buoyant and inspired, they sang,
“Goodbye Pearl, goodbye Axolotl
Hello Juujee, I missed you a lot
Maggis Thunde, let’s give em full throttle
And leave behind this criminal plot”
Sailing south toward the sea, the three of them took turns, tapping in threes. Earth, air, and water. Drops, dust, and breeze. Fish, birds, and trees. Wings, fins, and knees.
Love the name "Gulliverswift" for a vehicle. Makes me think of Jonathan Swift and Gulliver's Travels.
I think I may have mentioned this to you a while ago (although it might have been someone else...?) either way, when I read this I get the sense that you really let your imagination run wild. I feel like you really pulled at the strings of your creativity and enjoyed playing with what you uncovered.
It’s awesome. :)