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Over sixty !Xomyi were crowded into the longhouse as evening fell.
The sky had begun to turn a strange shade; a red deeper than anything anyone had ever seen. Over the backdrop of crimson, white streaks appeared regularly.
The Hessa referred to them as sky serpents. But Urle knew they were ever-bigger chunks of the moon, coming down into the atmosphere.
The red was not just from the falling objects. Urle had gotten the reports from more westward teams that falling meteors had started massive fires. They were hundreds of kilometers away, but their glow was so bright that it bled into the sky.
The changes had brought fear and unrest to the village, and Hornblower had called for a meeting.
Urle had to push to make his way in. The Hessa made some way for him, a few looking at him with awe or fear.
Since the day of the animal attack, the Hessa had viewed him in contradictory ways. At first, fear; his Thunder Tool had struck down the beasts, they had said.
He had explained to them that it was a weapon; not magic, but technology. But these were people who had not even begun hammering soft metals into pleasing shapes. Their language did not have words for such things that did not invoke magic or spirits.
His attempt to downplay it had backfired. Some began to doubt the events. Other rumors had started that suggested that he had even summoned the beasts.
It made no sense, but a rumor was not something that he could confront and disprove.
Most disturbingly of all, he suspected the source to be Hornblower himself.
The man had become belligerent since the incident. He glared openly at Urle, and refused to speak with him. When Urle tried, he would simply turn his back to him – an act that had shocked those watching.
His acts were intended to bring shame to Urle, apparently. He openly blamed Urle for not saving the woman, who was one of his sisters.
“For all your magic, you could not save her life!” he had yelled in the first hours afterwards.
Urle had a feeling that the reasons went deeper than family loss, however.
There was a jealousy in the man. It was actually somewhat obvious in his behavior and mannerisms.
Hornblower spoke over others talking in praise of what Urle had done, extolling his own virtues. He had begun to speak up his own abilities, approaching absurdity.
Were the tools of deception something that developed with an advancement of society? Urle had not considered it inversely before, that a less-developed society might, in some ways, be less refined at lying and detecting lies. But people still took Hornblower seriously, and besides his main task he’d begun doing more.
Concentrating more power in reaction to a perceived threat, Urle saw. Things were spinning out of control. The fear and uncertainty abetted it.
Pushing into the long house far enough that he could see Hornblower, standing on top of a log stump.
“The skies cry red!” one farmer, a man Urle knew as Tu!uk, cried. “What does it mean?”
“We need the wisdom of Ukn!aa!” a woman cried.
“We do not need the spirits!” Hornblower called. “We are safe and we are strong. We are tested, but we are safe!”
“Safe?” another voice called. “The stories speak of death from the sky, that the sky was like this-“
“Enough!” Hornblower cried, raising his hands, his wing membranes flaring out. It was a universal sign of rage, ready to rain blows from above. “I have heard enough of spirits and legends! We do not live in legends!”
“But we cannot deny the stories!”
Hornblower pointed towards the speaker. “The next to speak of spirits, I will beat him myself! Your cowardice invites disaster.”
“I agree,” Urle said.
Many eyes came to him, shocked.
“You?” Hornblower said. “Purveyor of spirits and lies? You do not-“
“I have lived among you for months,” Urle said. “I have shared in your burdens, your labor – your dangers.”
He saw receptiveness in the faces of the Hessa, their large eyes all fixed on him.
Hornblower reluctantly let his words fade.
Urle did not want to challenge or depose him; that was not his job, nor would it help.
“There is great danger coming,” he continued, turning to meet the eyes of as many people as he could. “That is why I am here-“
“He admits it!” Hornblower cried. “He admits that he brings disaster to us!”
Cries of alarm rose from the crowd, and Urle raised his voice. “No, that’s not what I mean! I am here to help!”
“You speak lies!” Hornblower crowed.
“I am your only hope of survival!” Urle yelled. “The moon is going to fall and you will all die.”
The yells and shouts fell to silence.
“Surely those of you who are older remember that it used to be smaller in the sky?” Urle said. “It has been growing, hasn’t it? Covering more stars. And it used to move. It is now still because it is so close that it’s tidally locked and will soon break apart.”
He’d gotten too technical; there was confusion on some faces, the Hessa language lacking the words to impart his meaning.
“I can help,” he said. “You’ll need to come with me – I have a . . . a way to take us away from here. I promise you that you will be safe. Together, you can rebuild in a new home.”
His words were not right; speaking of a new home did not mark well in their minds, and he saw some of their gazes turn . . . if not hostile to him, at least disinterested in his ideas.
“There is little time,” he pressed on. “We have only days left. We must leave at first light tomorrow if we are to survive.”
More fear in the crowd.
“Why does the moon fall? What have we done wrong?” one voice cried out.
“There’s no fault in anyone,” Urle said. “It is just a natural process-“
“Liar!” Hornblower yelled. “Don’t you see, my friends? He is a liar! He is the source of our problems! Ever since he has come, we have seen our lives grow worse! And now – now this outsider stranger claims that he can save us from the troubles he brings with him!”
“Please, I only wish to help,” Urle said, feeling his chance slipping away.
He could not win this by just appeals; he needed someone on his side, someone whose words carried weight equal to Hornblower’s.
Looking around, desperately, he wondered; where was the wise woman Ukn!aa?
He did not see her in the longhouse, which was very strange. People were asking for her guidance.
He pushed out, and Hornblower yelled out that he was fleeing.
Urle slowed his movements, turning to look at him. “We should hear what Ukn!aa has to say, Hornblower.”
The man shut up, glaring, and Urle went outside, looking.
There she was; her daughters around her, standing thirty paces from the longhouse, watching.
“Ukn!aa,” he called. “Your counsel is wanted.”
He went over to her. Her daughters were watching him with some hostility, but Ukn!aa’s expression was unreadable. Others were watching them curiously, and he lowered his voice.
“You must have heard what was being shouted,” he said. “You know I am a friend to your people. You’ve seen it. Please help me convince them. I do not want your people to die.”
Ukn!aa watched him silently for a moment, then began to walk forward, into the longhouse.
“Ukn!aa has come!” someone called. “Ukn!aa will see through lies!”
Urle waited on bated breath as the woman made her way into the longhouse.
She did not go all the way in before stopping, surrounded by her people.
“I have listened,” she said. “I have consulted the spirits.”
The voices of the people in the longhouse fell silent. Urle could hear his own breathing as the woman let the moment hang.
She’s reveling in this, Urle realized. This power.
Like Hornblower.
He met her eyes; she shied away. He saw that Hornblower was looking at her expectantly.
“The Stranger . . . he is a spirit who lies,” she said.
Gasps went through the tent, and eyes went to Urle with anger in them.
“Be not angry!” she called, but her words were falling on deaf ears. “He does not mean to lie, he is a spirit that helps but also lies.”
“This land is failing you!” Urle said. “You told me that you’ve seen things changing. You can see the sky outside! I am offering a way out!”
Some still heard him, still listened. He saw the fear in them; but at least a little willingness to hear him out. But they still looked to Ukn!aa, who he saw was looking at Hornblower.
They must have planned this, Urle thought. From Ukn!aa’s closed expression, he did not believe that she was the force behind it, or at least was not as committed as Hornblower. But she had sided with him in a power struggle that only they could see.
“The seasons change,” Ukn!aa said. “The land grows less abundant, and the skies stain red. But our people have seen these signs before!” Her voice was rising to a crescendo. “And we have survived! Our land is bountiful! It teems with life, and we shall endure. Our land has kept us healthy for as long as we have existed, and we shall not abandon it!”
She seemed caught up in herself now. She pointed to him. “Leave now, spirit. Do not come to us again. I banish you!”
Her voice reached fever pitch, as if she had expected some kind of dramatic flash and for Urle to disappear.
But he only stood, quiet. And then he nodded.
“I will leave because you ask. I am not a spirit; I never was, and I never claimed to be. I am only a man,” he said, his system turning the term into their equivalent. “And I came only to help. I just wish that you had let me.”
He turned, walking towards the door.
His knees were weak. These people were all going to die. It could be avoided so easily. Yet they would not let him help them.
He could order in the drones to knock them out, take them all. But running simulations, he realized that he did not have time. There were only days left, and he’d need lifter drones to carry them to the ship, which was at least a day’s walk from here.
No, they had sealed their fate.
He had sealed their fate by his failure.
Stepping out, he sagged, leaning against the wall of a hut.
There was a group of Hessa approaching him from behind. Come to attack him? To make sure he left?
He turned, and saw the farmers Tu!uk and !Aveb. They were gazing at him in fear.
“We believe you, spirit,” Tu!uk said. “I was there the day when you saved us from the hunting animals.”
Urle felt his knees almost give way. “You want to come with me?” he asked.
“Yes!” !Aveb said. “We are not the only ones. We will listen to you, Spirit Stranger. Please . . . do not abandon us.”
Urle rose to his full height. “I won’t abandon you,” he said.
Other Terrestrial 
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