From Dust to Dust

An alien species must face the wrath of their god.

I cursed our god, Raam, and the Almighty sent executioners in response. They descended unannounced from the amber dust clouds, riding chariots with smooth surfaces, like elongated lucite stones worn down by the river’s edge. The second sun cast a mirrored reflection off their exterior, and we saw ourselves wholly for the first time, a people dwarfed in fearful expectation. As leader, heads turned to me, waiting on wise words I couldn’t formulate, for never had Raam taken such a direct approach.

“The unbearable heat and the destruction of our crops is a sign. The rains have stopped, and we’re forced to shelter in caves like animals. Raam sits on his throne on the first sun, burning with fury at our indiscretions. He sends destroyers to punish in his stead,” Thuu, the priest said.

“Scriptures say nothing about these events. We pay homage, we follow the order of things, we sacrifice and still the heat from our sibling suns intensifies,” I said. Thuu merely nodded in agreement but offered no solution.

The chariots hovered near the ground, a low growl pitching upward as they came to rest on legs retracting from the bottom. I expected a fiery incineration from hidden mouths, which would be the culmination of oppressive heat slinking across dessert sands, eroding our lush vegetation. Those harsh grains swept away the yellow and white Antiilee flowers used in medicines and herbal teas, leaving our land barren and inhospitable. However, the incineration did not come as expected.

“Why should we serve a god who requires so much, but gives so little in return,” my only son, Yooli said.

“Don’t talk foolish, boy,” I said.

Yooli’s gills fluttered open and closed in frustration, breathing in the dry air, sure to be contributing to his irritability. His skin, like mine, previously bright green and capable of holding moisture below saturated pustules, appeared gray and scaly. How did he get so old without me noticing?

The chariot closest to us rested in silence until it exhaled gases, startling a nearby group of nervous children. A swirl of viscous material molded itself into a series of solid steps, on which a group of bipedal organisms lumbered down. Their skin, bright white, contrasted their face, which was a nondescript black void. Just as their chariots did, its surface cast a reflection of frailty and desperation. Was this a sign from Raam? Should we look back within ourselves to root out the sins plaguing our society?

Several of the visitors formed a line. A few held tools as extensions of themselves and one stepped forward, presumably the leader, to speak a proclamation of judgment. Our best warriors gathered at my side while the executioner said words in a sacred language I could not understand. Raam’s messages are often mysterious. The leader turned and motioned to his chariot, the glare of both suns piercing the void covering its face. Inside, small ugly eyes set in deep sockets viewed us with condemnation.

“They wear their skeleton on the outside!” Thuu exclaimed.

“They are built of flesh and bone, our adversaries. Raam desires a battle to appease his bloodlust. These are his champions.” Yooli said.

Before I could protest, a long spear soared out over our front line toward the leader, who held his hands up in defense. No doubt he would caste magic and reverse the trajectory of the projectile, sending a thousand more in our direction. Instead, the spear tip sunk deep through the skeleton. The executioner stumbled and fell backward, flat on his back, which kicked up dust, fertilizing our land with fresh blood. If Raam enjoyed the display, our Almighty found an odd way to demonstrate pleasure. A wave of energy from one of the visitor’s tools eliminated doubt regarding their purpose. They were tools of war, holy weapons, much more destructive than ours.

The hole in Yooli’s abdomen opened him up to our planet, consecrating his body to the dust, and to Raam. His mother, Aana, screamed curses, kneeling and cradling his limp body over her lap. We could not compete with the power unleashed. If they chose, the executioners could lay waste to our kind, ensuring extinction. Bursts of light, towering flames from the first sun agreed with my assessment. Several of the beings carried their fallen back to the chariot. A new leader stepped forward, not another challenger, but an ambassador who tried to communicate in furious gibberish.

The visitor pointed to the suns, to their chariots and to my clan, all while executioners pointed their weapons at us, awaiting chaos. A line of passage opened between them, and he waved me forward, walking toward the chariots, which were now whining in anticipation of our arrival.

“Raam wishes to reward us, to live with him in the heavens!” Thuu exclaimed.

“Or he will sacrifice us on the surface of the sibling suns. Our bodies will decorate his throne room.” Aana said through tears.

I turned to face a crowd of anxious expressions and questioned my leadership duties. Never could I, with full understanding, bring them a peaceful resolution. They no longer wanted an explanation of Raam’s intentions, only affirmations and the continuation of our way of life. Whatever would give them the greatest chance of survival, this is what they hoped for me to provide. Little did they know, the familiar embrace of dying rituals could be more difficult and uncertain than the path to salvation.

“I will go, but I will force none of you to follow. Raam may yet torture me for generations, but I will plead for mercy, for torrential rains and the return to blessings,” I said.

“My only offspring is dead and I’m too old to reproduce. I hope the Almighty strikes me dead on this spot,” Aana said, her decision made.

A small number of unbetrothed ventured forward, but a larger group of families could not bring themselves to leave. Elders split themselves, a few to stay and others to go. Thuu contemplated leaving, but wary of abandoning the flock, he decided to shepherd them back to the caves. And so, our groups separated, with Aana left alone to weep for us all.

The chariot swallowed our members one-by-one, up the steps to our execution or exaltation, I did not know. The expanse inside overwhelmed my senses, large enough to hold a hundred clans. But in its depth also held a loneliness, a despair I tried to hide from my brethren, to keep hope alive so long as I had breath.

The door swirled shut the same way it had opened, and I watched as the beings removed their skeletal structures. Gargles, sounds of surprise, released from our lips as they revealed a second skin underneath. Smooth in nature, not quite white, it paled except for a few whose shades were darker in comparison. They shelved their weapons, and the leader bid us forward. If Raam wanted to destroy us, then the Almighty might first offer us comfort to intensify the punishment. Our pleasures would be temporary in the face of our demise.

We were led to a gathering place and asked to sit opposite a large wall comprised of a flat crystalline structure giving off a warm light, soft and glowing. It faded white and then to black, showing us the heavens. Our sibling suns burned bright among the stars and from a distance I recognized our small planet situated between. We were traveling at a great speed away from the three. A shadow, a single blemish – starting small and growing quickly – warped the light of both suns, refracting dizzying colors. Then it pulled our planet inward, encasing it in darkness.

I watched as the second sun slid toward its brother, transformed, and the two locked in argument, devoured one another. A swirl of dust rings unfurled and spread out the ashes of my clan. In awe, those who remained inside the chariot, could not believe the vision manifesting. To control the heavens, to rise above Raam and watch the Almighty be destroyed, left me terrified. I finally understood, the visitors were not executioners.

“What does it mean?” a young one dared to ask.

Pointing to our saviors, I said, “Raam is no more. These are our new gods.”