Stranded on a Tiny Planet

Chapter 5: Pixie



Meanwhile...

Merco sat in silence for several minutes, trying to absorb what he’d just seen. Tiny sentient beings...tiny flying sentient beings. Never could he have conceived such a thing. He glanced around and it dawned on him that this whole world was small. What he thought were saplings and tall scrub were full grown trees to the inhabitants. Funny how he’d never thought of it before seeing the tiny aliens. He’d encountered other alien species that were smaller than humans, but even they hit the three-foot mark. A being only a few inches tall was something he’d never heard of nor seen before in his life.

Merco frowned. It unsettled him how frightened acted when they saw him. How could he blame them? If they’d never seen anyone like him, how enormous must he appear? Surely, they weren’t the only ones? No. No there probably were other little aliens. Perhaps even watching him right now?

He glanced around suspiciously but didn’t see nor hear anyone...except for the growl of his stomach. Merco, banished his thoughts in favor of hunger, and resumed the task of cleaning and prepping his fish for cooking. First, he washed his catch and then skewered it with the spear. Then he set to work gathering dead twigs...

or rather...trees?

He gathered the wood to make a carefully stacked pile. Then he peeled his prosthetic glove off of his mechanical arm. Though the doctors frowned upon him modifying the prosthetic, he’d made a few useful alterations. One alteration being a cigarette lighter. Though he’d managed to tame the habit after the war at the behest of his family, the cravings still nagged at him; especially under stress.

Boy was he longing for a smoke now.

Unfortunately for him there wasn’t a pack for light years. Fortunately, his old habit had yielded a beneficial tool implanted in his thumb. Merco bent back the top thumb digit, revealing the striker. With a curt snap of his fingers it lit itself. He smirked and held it to his kindling. In no time he had a smoky fire going. Then he proceeded to hover his fish on a stick over the fire for the roasting process.

As the fish began to brown, his thoughts wandered back to the tiny aliens he’d encountered. He had so many questions. What planet was this? Did they have ships that could travel in space and if so, could they transport him out of here? Or if not, did they possess a communications network that could reach out to other planets? Could he communicate with them? Would they even want to communicate with him?

For what felt like an eternity, the fish cooked. Merco finally couldn’t wait anymore and decided it had cooked long enough. He touched the browned flesh and it flaked like a fish should when cooked properly. He dug out a chunk greedily but hissed as the hot meat burned his fingertips. Merco fumbled with a tiny piece, blowing frantically to cool it before popping it in his mouth. No seasoning. Bland flavor. Kind of dry. But at the moment it was a five-star meal.

“Please don’t be toxic. Please don’t kill me.” He thought repetitively as he greedily devoured the fish meat.

As he ate, he’d pause, almost waiting for nausea or some other sickness to bash him in the guts. But much to his relief, his stomach readily accepted the fish without any backlash. However, he was still not out of danger. There might be unforeseen consequences to this alien water and food. The pounding in his head was definitely concerning and it didn’t seem to abate.

Was he going to survive this, or would this planet be his final resting place?

With his stomach beginning to fill, Merco was feeling somewhat better, save for the pulse of his head wound. In his urgency to feed himself, he had neglected to put his clothes back on, so he began to redress himself. When he picked up his shirt and pushed his head through the neck hole, the shimmering teal rock he’d found earlier fell out of his pocket and plopped into the shallows of the lake.

“Whoops.” he mentioned, as he pulled his arms into the short sleeves.

He leaned over and reached into the water to retrieve the rock. His fingers groped around until he found his prize. Between his fingers the shimmery rock glistened as he casually tucked it back into his shirt pocket.

“Who knows? If you somehow get off this planet that little rock might be worth something?” he mused to himself.

As Merco was putting on his pants and boots he felt his pocket growing noticeably warmer. He touched the outside of the pocket and blinked. The rock was radiating heat and felt like it was shrinking. Curious, he fished it out and much to his astonishment the rock wasn’t shrinking but appeared to be disintegrating like cotton candy in water! He cupped both hands around the stone and in a matter of seconds a tiny, thin, humanoid form took shape from beneath the melting exterior.

Merco’s mouth dropped open. His eyes went wide with amazement as the rock disappeared entirely and left behind a tiny, lavender alien just like the one he’d seen earlier. She was curled in a fetal position, her legs moving slightly.

“Look at that.” Merco whispered with wonderment.

After a few seconds the tiny being began to stir, as if awoken from a deep sleep. She stretched her thin extremities, opened her large blue eyes, and she sat up, blinking.

...

The time had come. So long had she waited for her day of Emergence. The constant streams of education information she was fed daily had ceased and was replaced with a single announcement that her day of Emergence had come. She would see the outside world and finally join her family. Even within her chrysalis she had heard the voices of her creators and that of her sibling. Video images of them would play in her head daily. She knew who they were and what they were supposed to look like, but now she would be able to actually see them, embrace them, and assimilate into their family unit.

However, her Emergence seemed delayed. Perhaps it was nothing. Perhaps it was her own eagerness to finally be free that made it seem delayed. Without the information stream she was left in the warm dark, listening to the beating of her own heart. Or was it her heart she heard so prominently? The beating was very loud, but the rhythm seemed too slow for her own.

And then it finally happened. She heard the crackling of her chrysalis as it disintegrated from around her. Her heart rate increased as natural light washed over her and cooler air tingled her skin. She stretched and slowly opened her eyes, expecting to see her family gathered around her.

But instead a deep voice from above her said, “Hey there, little pixie.”

Her head jerked with a start when she felt the quiet yet powerful voice vibrate through her. She looked up, her eyes widened, and she flinched visibly. What she beheld was not her family, but an impossibly huge creature she didn’t recognize from any of her information feeds. Her new head plumage raised with alert and awkwardly she tried to scurry backward away from the massive beast with the hairy face. But then she registered the the firm yet padded texture beneath her. It took her seconds to realize she was laying in the palm of his huge hand and there was no where to go. She was trapped and at this giant creature’s mercy. Her wide blue eyes shot over when movement entered her periphery. The giant’s other massive hand appeared above her. Terrified, she ducked down, covering her head with trembling hands.

“No. No. Don’t be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you,” he assured.

She flinched when his huge finger very gently stroked her back. She couldn’t understand his rumbling alien language, but his voice sounded calm and soothing. It made him seem slightly less terrifying...but only a little bit. His touch remained gentle and gradually her shaking lessened. With caution she uncurled to look up at him.

“It’s ok. It’s ok, little one. That’s it. That’s right. Not going to hurt you, little one.” He kept saying in almost a whispering mantra.

She stared at him intently, taking in his details and size. Though he possessed an overall Ansheetan-type build, he was indeed strange looking to her. So much hair on his face and head, odd light brown skin, and his proportions were monstrously huge. His face, while alien, didn’t appear right. He looked...uneven...swollen. Even though he was clearly not one of her family unit, he didn’t appear to want to hurt her.

But what happened to her family unit? Where were they? Why was she with this gigantic creature and not them?

He then deliberately pointed to his chest and said slowly, “Mer-co.”

Her vibrant blue eyes blinked up at him.

He repeated the gesture, “Mer-co.”

It appeared he was stating his name to her and she tasted the word, “Mer-co.”

His mouth turned upward in what looked like a friendly expression.

“Yes! Yes. I’m Merco,” he nodded.

He pointed at her, but she didn’t respond. According to her information feeds, she would be given a name by her family shortly after her Emergence. But since they weren’t there, she had no name to give.

He tried again, pointing to himself, “Merco.” And then he pointed at her.

She merely stared at him.

...

Merco was still in awe of what he held. Who knew the rock he’d found was actually an alien egg...or cocoon? He felt as if he were holding a newly emerged butterfly; so pretty, so delicate. He introduced himself and tried to see if she too had a name. But when she didn’t seem to understand he surmised that she didn’t have one yet.

“No name huh? Guess that makes sense if you were just...hatched?” he thought a moment and smiled, “How about I call you...Pixie?” He pointed to her and said, “Pixie?”

She tipped her head but repeated in her tiny voice, “Pixie?”

Merco nodded and pointed to himself then her, “Merco...Pixie. Merco...Pixie.”

She then pointed to him, “Merco.” And then to herself, “Pixie.”

“Yes! That’s good!” Merco praised.

“Good.” Pixie mimicked.

Merco then looked over at the remains of his fish meal and asked, “Are you hungry?”

She stared at him uncomprehending.

He reached over and plucked a tiny morsel of fish meat from the bones before presenting it to her.

“Here ya go. It’s not really seasoned but it’s fresh.” He offered.

Pixie withdrew from his encroaching hand.

“It’s ok. It’s ok.” he reassured quietly, “Try some.”

After a moment she stared at the fish meat before tentatively taking it in her tiny hands. For her it was the size of a loaf of bread. She smelled it and took a cautious bite. Somehow the whole action of eating clicked by instinct. She took another bite and ate until she couldn’t eat anymore, satisfied.

Merco gave a pleased smile, “There you go. Not so bad huh? How about a drink?”

Very carefully he lowered her to the ground, resting his hand openly. Pixie looked up at him a moment and then cautiously scooted to the edge of his hand. His hands tipped, helping her slide off and make contact with the ground. The tiny lavender alien righted herself, but staggered, unfamiliar with the sensation of balancing on her feet. Merco’s massive hand steadied her from behind.

“Easy there, little Pixie. Don’t fall.”

She braced her hand against his, until she found equilibrium. With a great gentility, belied by their size difference, he guided her to the water’s edge with an outstretched fingertip. Like a toddler learning to walk, she leaned against his steady finger and followed with measured steps. After a moment she was at the water’s edge and instinctually knelt down for a drink.

Merco watched her with fascination until she finished drinking and stood up. Pixie slowly turned and stared up at him as he knelt behind her. Her blue eyes met his for a long moment as if thinking.

...

Pixie...a strange sounding name he had given her. None of her language lessons from before contained any such word so she had no clue what it meant. But it didn’t sound horrible. Merco...his name was equally strange. Staring up at his looming form, Pixie decided very quickly that despite his intimidating stature and alien appearance, this “Merco” wasn’t going to hurt her. In fact, he seemed determined to care for her needs as he had fed her, showed her the water for drinking, and helped her walk. But despite his care, Pixie knew she needed to find her family and reunite with them somehow. Her eyes scanned the surroundings, hoping to catch a glimpse of them nearby.

Then she lifted her voice and called, “Hello? Hello? Are you there? I’ve Emerged! I’m here!”

...

As Merco watched the tiny new alien near his boot, he noted she appeared to be searching for something. She began calling in her alien language, eyes sweeping across the lake and into the trees as well. It was then, a realization broke through his awe. Yesterday, he found her “egg” by that pond, and he...he took it. His eyes lowered with guilt.

Had...had he unintentionally kidnapped her? What if she had a family? What if they were looking for her and he just took her?

“Oh...oh you poor little thing. You’re looking for your family, aren’t you?” he bemoaned quietly which made her head plumage lift and she turned to face him. “I should take you back where I found you.”

He slowly reached around and scooped her off her feet into his hand. She looked up at him with an expression of both awe and intimidation. Very gently, he repositioned her between his fingers and tucked her into his shirt pocket.

“You’ll be safe in there, little Pixie,” he stated.

She poked her head out, hanging onto the cloth edge of his pocket just as he bent down and retrieved his makeshift spear.

“All right. Let’s find that pond and return you where I found you.”


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