Sorcha The Alien Book One

Chapter Nine

I sit on Sask's head as planet Jebnah enlarges before my eyes. It sparkles like a ruby. Continents cover the world in shades of red, as if the blood of millions leaches into the soil. Green oceans as dazzling as any emerald, pool over the planet, and thick rivers tangle through the red. But as startling as Jebnah is, it doesn't entice my complete attention.

"I think ..." I stare at my computer, upon the sleeve of my spacesuit. "I think there's an entra ship following us."

"Maybe it's Ramet," Sask says, and for a moment I allow myself to believe.

"No." I close my eyes, that would be too easy, right? "She's not messaged me. We'll land on Jebnah, like Ramet said."

"That's a good idea," Sask replies.

Anxiety blooms like flowers in spring as I stare at Jebnah. I'm without a ship, I just hope my new spacesuit can cope with atmosphere entry as well as my last one.

"You can go in my mouth, that would protect you from the atmosphere." Sask's neck twists and a cavernous mouth looms before me. A mouth surely meant for chomping on beasts far larger than herself. Teeth protrude, sharp spires, like stalagmites and stalactites, and a rubbery black tongue lines the basin of her mouth.

"No! I'm certain this suit will be fine." I'll pick burning up in the atmosphere over being swallowed alive any day.

"Are you ready?" Sask points her head back to the planet.

"Yes."

No. Absolutely not. First of all: I can't decide if riding a space beast into a planet's atmosphere is the most epic thing a human has done or the most ridiculous. Maybe it's both. Whichever it is, it doesn't alter the fact that it's far too late to do anything different.

My visor flashes with readings as I drop. Numbers descend as if they're in a race to zero and as they near the finish they flash red, beeping with conviction. I convince myself that's fine. Absolutely fine. Fine enough that I don't want to focus on them anymore.

I turn my head. My view is split fifty-fifty. One side, the blanket of space with stars tossed across it like precious stones. The black stops when it hits the other side of my view; the curved green sky of Jebnah's southern hemisphere.

Sask drops like an anchor in the ocean. Between her and the natural pull of Jebnah, space rapidly recedes from my view. The last of the green numbers displayed on my visor turn red and join the others flashing in unison. Turn back, that's what it's saying. I close my knees tighter. My arms strangle Sask's neck. I trust her. I trust she knows the correct trajectory to enable us to expertly pierce the atmosphere like a kingfisher diving below a lake. The alternative is that we hit the atmosphere like a watermelon hits a pavement.

My suit compresses around me, and a smothering warmth embraces every inch of my body. I close my eyes against a bright featureless wash of white as warmth transcends to boiling and the pressure steadily increases. Vibrations shimmy from head to toe and I clench my jaws so hard my teeth threaten to crack.

The earpieces in my helmet are screaming then I realise they aren't. It's me. Behind my eyelids I sense the light intensity lessen. I risk a peek. Green skies and fluffy clouds spiral as I spin through my final descent. Sask isn't between my knees where I left her. When did that happen? My visor blinks back to life. Numbers of green reappear and seem to say, 'There. You survived.'. Yeah, I did. I right myself with the suit's thrusters and try to get eyes on Sask. She's there, but she's not alone.

From the clouds a stream of entra vessels approach, sleek, like arrowheads. They ignore me, their sights set on Sask. They swarm her like a hive of hornets, and overhead, their queen hovers, far grander than her swarm.