Chapter One: So it Begins
Chapter Two: Into the Dark
Chapter Three: Confounded by a Lock of Stone
Chapter Four: The Ponderous Path Home
Chapter Five: Fleeing the Immolation
Fire chubs are a local animal. Well, technically, they are a mobile heterotroph (eats others). They have a weird life cycle. Duh, they're alien! However, even amongst all the worlds, only the spiny creeper and its relatives on Jefferson have something quite this weird. Well, Escheria is weirder, but that's also terrifying, so we won't talk about that right now. The Spiny creepers and their relatives are symbiotic with plants, they carry the seeds of plants around inside them. The plants grow like a parasite inside the reptile-ish looking critter. Eventually, it overwhelms the spiny creeper and the spiny creeper's corpse provides nourishment to the plant as it grows. That's kinda scary and weird, but the really weird part is in the fruit of the plant, baby spiny creepers are first eggs and then larvae. The larvae get a seed planted in them while oozing around inside the plant. When the spiny creeper has developed legs, the fruit ripes and falls to the ground. The spiny creepers live, love and then get eaten by the seeds that are hiding in their bodies after they sprout. The cycle repeats: ouroboros bites its tail.
To call fire chubs pyrophiles would not be right. They do not seek out fire. They do not love fire. It would be better to say they were 'fire starters.' Pyroprimers? Pyroinitius? I didn't know and don't know. My neolatin was failing me then and it seems to be less than important right now. Imagine a metazoan, an animal, if you will, that bursts into flame at the end of its life. It's children were parasites growing within it, but sensing their parent's end of life, cocooned themselves within fire proof shells to metamorphose. The old fire chub would then seek out others of their kind, most of the time in a place that would ignite easily - dead grass (alien variety) or something similar that would burn out fast so their young would survive. Heavy woods with lots of logs and deadwood would not be ideal. However, the light forest we were in with its branches dropped was not bad. For them. The gather, huff and puff as they inflated airsacks in all through their body - normally used for breathing, but now used to help with the ignition - and then explode. Their body had a nasty combustible fat. First it looked like they were getting fat, inflating, chubby, sorta, and then BOOM. Fire storm as their fats would ignite and splatter everywhere.
The chuffing was the communal signal for ITS TIME TO BURN EVERYTHING DOWN! READY?! RIGHT! BOOM!
We heard the chuffing. We ran like the wind. Tobias tinked me a message wondering if should call for an emergency evac. The fire would get furious fast. I tinked back I wanted a little more distance. Both from the cave and puzzle we found and the chubs. If the fire got bad first, the rescue drones might crash from the firestorm...and potentially chop us up. The idea of being made into long pork sushi was even less appealing than becoming a fire chub flavored roast. The irony of it would be too great for it NOT to happen. so on we ran.
Fire chubs can have false chuffs. Sometimes the sounder - group - of them doesn't come to the consensus they want to end their lives just yet and explode. It's often a process of a few days before they do. We didn't know if they were ready to go - boomshakalakah! - or if they were still arguing over their inevitable hot flaming suicide.
One more thing, once the fire passes, the young fire chubs emerge from their cocoons. And they are hungry. They will attack anything around. They're omnivores when adults. As kids, pure carnivore. If they don't find anything else, they'll eat each other. Such wonderful family relations, eh? Best not to return to a burn zone for a few weeks. Or that was the wisest thing. If we were not teenagers. If we were not going to be intensely curious about something on the other side of that burn zone…
We ran. We ran as fast as our legs would take us. We ran so hard we stopped – and despite being in great physical condition – we were about ready to throw up. Our lungs cried out in pain. Our sides were cramping. We were going to die. Or so it felt. We had gone a kilometer from the fire chubs. Jumping fallen tree branches. Even some fallen trunks. Clambering as fast as we could.
As our hearts slowed and our lungs merely hated us for the rest of our lives, or at least until next Friday, after school, Tobias and I looked at one another. Directly in each other’s eyes and smiled. And then weakly laughed. We had freaked out and panicked - never a good idea on an alien planet! After what we had seen. After what we had found. We were a bit rattled. And then we found the chuffing fire chubs.
We laughed weakly. Then stronger and then fell on the ground.
We were clearly idiots. We were so dumb, it was funny. We laughed and laughed. Perhaps we shouldn’t even have kids, to make sure this sort of dumb wasn’t passed on. We laughed more. How much worse would it have been if we had called the rescue drone?! We laughed even harder.
Then we lay there. On the ground. Exhausted from running. Even more exhausted and relieved from the laughter. We looked at each other and had a moment. We were connected and it wasn’t a romantic thing. It wasn’t a sibling thing. It was almost a telepathic thing – but not telepathetic, we’re not so lame as you can tell from distance. No, it was just something special and it was us. Whatever it was. The moment broke and we both looked up into the sky. It was beautiful as ever. Blue with a tint of indigo.
Our lungs decided to forgive us and were merely slightly aching.
We jinx sighed at the same time and both sat up.
Then we heard it. The BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOM…and it went on.
The fire chubs were exploding.
The oils in the woods would start a fire storm.
We could be immolated and left roasted as baby fire chub food.
We had to get out fast.
Both of us called through our boosters mentally. Within five minutes, the rescue drone was there and we climbed aboard. And not a moment too soon. The line of fire was nearing. As we lifted off and away, it was horrific. It was beautiful. It had nearly been our barbeque. Long pork for chubs.
I watched the fire as the drone lifted us away. The intensity was only paralleled by the worst firestorms on Earth. And this was a little one for Madison. And I was very glad I was not going to be a part of it.