The Celestial Crumb

  Mor-Del should’ve been watching the treeline for signs of their prey. If he and Shi-Bor weren’t successful on this hunt, the tribe would be in for a hungry 48 hours. The monthly rumbling was almost upon them, and they would all head underground into the shelters to ride it out. Hopefully with storechests full of fresh hurgan meat. 

  But by all the celestial gods, Mor-Del couldn’t keep his eyes off of Shi-Bor. He’d heard stories of hunting pairs that fell in love and became mates. For years, he ignored those tales, finding it difficult to think of his lifelong friend as anything more than just a friend. But the further they traveled into young adulthood, the more he noticed her, and the deeper his love for her grew. His plasma bow hung low by his side, and instead of asking himself where the hurgans might be hiding, he tilted his head, taking in the sight of Shi-Bor and wondering how it was that a woman could be that beautiful. 

  She turned toward him and their eyes met. Embarrassment threatened to overcome Mor-Del, but before he looked away, something about Shi-Bor’s expression froze him. She was terrified. She dropped her plasma bow and sprinted toward him. 

  Adrenaline spiking, Mor-Del raised his plasma bow and spun in a circle, expecting to see an angry hurgan about to pounce on him. But there was none there, and his alarm turned to confusion as he turned back toward the approaching Shi-Bor. 

  “What is-” 

  Before he could finish the question, she was upon him. Lowering her toned, athletic frame, she led with her shoulder, slamming into Mor-Del and sending him flying. 

  That’s when he saw it.   

  The danger wasn’t on the ground. Something was falling from the sky. It was glowing and misshapen, a bright green glob as large as a family’s hut, about to hit the ground right where he’d been standing a moment before. Right where Shi-Bor was standing now.

  A sad smile spread across her perfect lips as the shadow of the object engulfed her. 

  “I lov-” 

  The impact shook the earth, and Shi-Bor was crushed flat, dead in an instant. She’d been there, so beautiful, about to say the words that Mor-Del dreamed to hear, and then there was nothingness. A vibrant, beautiful life, reduced to a red stain on the grass.

  For a long moment, Mor-Del’s mind shut down. It refused to process the loss, and couldn’t process the massive glowing object. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen or heard about. None of the tera-books or byte-pads had ever mentioned it. Maybe it was a hallucination? He tried to believe that was true. Shi-Bor wasn’t dead. He was just suffering from myla-fever, or he’d fallen and hit his head on a rock. Surely that made more sense than this random, lifeless space object falling to the earth and taking his future from him. Those fragile thoughts crumbled as soon as the thing grew a face and smiled at him. It had triangle-shaped eyes and the most content, peaceful expression he’d ever seen. It filled him with rage, and his blood was boiling as he got to his feet. 

  “You killed her!” Mor-Del screamed. 

  He rushed the thing, sure of only one thing. He was going to make it suffer. But his fists sank into its surface, and his kicks did no damage. It was like raging against a giant loaf of freshly baked flebdo. But his rage persisted, turning primal. He scratched and bit and clawed and screamed and cried. The smile slowly faded from the thing’s giant face. 

  “Halt your attacks,” it said, the voice calm, but firm. 

  Mor-Del tried to tear into the thing, looking for a heart inside he could rip free. The giant entity shuddered, and a pulse of energy shot from it, flinging Mor-Del away. He flipped through the air, landing painfully on his back twenty feet away. He lay there a moment, then got to his feet. 

  “What are you?” Mor-Del asked through clenched teeth. 

  It narrowed its eyes, studying him before responding. 

  “I require no name.” 

  Something about its calm, peaceful tone enraged him, but for now, he held his ground, still formulating his next attack. 

  “Everyone requires a name,” he said, circling the thing. To his shock, the face followed him, transferring from one side of the shape to the next. 

  “I am not an everyone,” it said. “I am sustenance, thus I require no name.” 

  Mor-Del stopped moving. His eyes swept across the massive shape once more, this time from a new angle. 

  “You’re as large as a hut. What could be massive enough to eat you?” 

  To his great dismay, the thing chuckled. 

  “Large? Me? You misunderstand, small one. I am just a piece of a piece. Little more than a crumb that slipped from the edge of a plate and plummeted.” 

  A gnawing, twisting pain was growing in Mor-Del’s stomach. 

  “Slipped from the edge of who’s plate?” he asked. 

  The glowing shape smiled widely as it answered. 

  “XXzy2, XZux7, ZXzz8…” 

  In a panic, Mor-Del dove to the ground and squeezed his eyes shut, as was customary when the names of the celestial gods were being spoken. Some of the older members of his tribe believed it blasphemous to even hear the names. 

  “...XUuu2, and ZZzz,” the shape continued. “Each cycle, they choose a point in the stars and feast there, and today that point is above your world.” 

  Religion had never mattered much to Mor-Del. Born long after the collapse of the local synagogue, all that he knew of the celestial gods came from his grandmother or other ancient ones in the tribe. As his overwhelmed mind struggled to grasp what this crumb was telling him, a new thought wedged its way in. He opened his eyes and looked up. 

  “Do they know that a crumb fell and killed the woman I love?” 

  The thing narrowed its eyes. 

  “I am not certain that I-” 

  “Do they know that they dropped you and murdered someone I loved?” Mor-Del repeated, anger shaking him. He slowly stood. “Do they know that we suffer thanks to the monthly rumbling? Or that the hurgan herds grow sparser by the season?”

  Body quaking, he marched up to the glowing shape and screamed. 

  “Do they even care about us at all?” 

  For a long time, the thing just regarded him. Then it smiled. 

  “I am but a crumb, and yet I am also joyous. Do you know why? Because I was of service to the celestial g-” 

  “Send me up there,” Mor-Del interrupted. He turned his back on the shape and searched the ground for his plasma bow. 

  “That is an ill-advised plan of action.”

  After scooping up his plasma bow, Mor-Del spun on his heel to face the thing. 

  “Can you do it or not?” he snapped. 

  “I… can. While my purpose as sustenance has ended, I do yet possess a store of celestial energy gained from being in the presence of the celestial gods. If it is truly your wish, I can use it to-” 

  “Do it,” Mor-Del interrupted. “Now.” 

  He’d waste no more time on this crumb. Not when those who truly needed to answer for what had taken place here were above. A tendril of power extended from the shape. It made contact with the top of his head, and he was launched upward at impossible speed. In an instant, he was above the tree line, then ascending into the clouds. Air ripped at him, and it felt like his body was being torn apart. He gritted his teeth and held tight to the plasma bow. The air grew thin and cold, then the bright blue sky started to give way to blackness. The assault of the wind subsided, and suddenly he was no longer soaring upward but floating, weightless, as he passed out of the atmosphere into a blanket of stars so vast that it filled his mind and heart with wonder. 

  Glancing below, Mor-Del saw his planet from an angle that none of his tribe ever had. From up here, it seemed peaceful, and gone were the troubles that brought such strife to the surface. There was a certain grace in the way that it hung amongst the stars, seemingly unmoving. 

  Icy pain spread across his skin, and when Mor-Del tried to breathe, he found himself unable to do so. His eyes widened and started to fill with blood. He kicked his legs and waved his arms, but no amount of movement affected his slow, gentle slide deeper into space. 

  As his vision started to fade and consciousness slipped away, Mor-Del spotted them. The celestial gods, each hundreds of thousands of feet tall, their bodies made up of colorful stars, nebulae, and other cosmic wonders. They appeared to be laughing, enjoying one another’s company around a communal table so vast that it filled a large portion of the solar system. 

  It was an incredible sight to see.