I wrote this one for a Brazilian convention called “Abando” back in 2011. Their theme was UFOs, so I had some fun with it. I never got to go to the convention, though I’d love to go to a South American convention sometime.
Flying Objects
By Kyell Gold
Fingers of red still brushed the western sky, gleaming in the fur of the jaguar’s compact body as he made his way up the last few feet to the plateau. He paused, resting with his paws on his knees, and dropped his pack beside him with a thud. After a moment to catch his breath, he lifted his head and looked around him, tail lashing.
The top of the plateau stretched out a few hundred yards in front of him. Scattered piles of rocks dotted the dusty ground, and small clusters of bushes were barely visible at the opposite edge, their leaves glimmering with red that was slowly fading. The jaguar’s body cast a long, dark shadow over the dusty earth. He sniffed the air and smiled, tilting his head to look up at the nearly-cloudless sky, then picked up his pack again.
At one of the larger piles of rocks, he spread out a blanket and placed his pack carefully to one side. Sitting down with his back to the rock, he smoothed out his jeans and t-shirt and curled and uncurled his tail. He pulled binoculars from his pack and scanned the darkening sky.
“Star-gazing?”
The jaguar leapt to his feet, claws out. A small Pampas fox sauntered toward him. His soft white linen shirt was open to his chest ruff, and the rustle of his khaki pants was only now audible over the wind. The jaguar retracted his claws. “What—who are you?”
The fox laughed. “I might ask you the same. What are you doing up here?”
The jaguar glanced down at his binoculars and shifted on his paws. “I like looking at—there’s supposed to be planets out tonight.” He looked up at the fox and then narrowed his eyes. “What are you doing up here?”
“I just like to be alone with the stars,” the fox said. His tail swished. “It’s peaceful up here. Usually.”
“I’ll keep quiet.” The jaguar waved to the blanket. “I just want to sit here and look for—look at stars.”
“All right, all right.”
They regarded each other warily. The fox opened his muzzle to speak again, then perked up his ears. A moment later the jaguar did, too, turning in the same direction.
Footsteps sounded along the path. The light was dimming, but they could see long, lanky limbs and large triangular ears appear against the faintly glowing sky. Both of them stood and watched the maned wolf come into view.
She too had an overnight pack, but when she reached the top of the path, she was only panting slightly, and she didn’t set it down. Her t-shirt read ‘To The Moon’ below a crescent moon, and most of her long legs were visible below her denim shorts. “Oh,” she said. “I guess I wasn’t the only one to see that article.”
“What article?” the fox said. The jaguar’s ears flattened, his eyes narrowing warily.
“About the strange lights sighted up here.” The maned wolf looked back and forth between them. “That’s why you’re here, right? You’re hunters.”
The jaguar scowled. The fox looked taken aback for a moment. “Hunters?”
“Personally,” the maned wolf said as she set her pack down, “I don’t think they’ll come back tonight.”
“At Tierra they came back the next day,” the jaguar blurted out. The other two stared at him, and he ducked his head.
“At Ixtapa it was three days. In Texas it was two.” The maned wolf shrugged, with a smile. “But you’d hate to miss that if it were tonight, right?”
“Definitely.” The fox produced a phone from his pocket. “I really want to see those lights.”
The jaguar and maned wolf looked curiously at him, their eyes gleaming with reflected starlight. The sun by now was almost fully set. “They’re only gonna take one of us, you know,” the maned wolf said. “Multiple abductions in this area are really, really rare.”
“They gotta take me this time,” the jaguar growled. “I missed ‘em four times already.”
The fox’s eyes lit up, and his ears perked. “Oh!” He looked back and forth. “The abductions. Right. No, I’ve been taken twice. I just want to see if these are the same ones.”
The maned wolf and jaguar looked at each other, and then the maned wolf relaxed. She pulled out a pair of binoculars, larger than the ones the jaguar had.
The jaguar looked at them and then nudged his pack closed with his foot. He bent down, grabbed his blanket and pack, and started walking. “I’m gonna look from…over here.”
The maned wolf smiled at the fox, who was typing a long text message. He finished and looked up into the glints of her eyes. “Sorry,” he said, indicating the phone. “Just a friend asking where I am. So, um, how long have you been hunting UFOs?”
Her ears came up as she eyed him, waiting a long time before answering. “About six years. Say, if you want to go grab your stuff, that’s okay.”
“I’m fine,” he said.
“No, really. I’d like to see it.” She lowered the binoculars and stared at him. Her ears were cocked at an odd angle.
The fox’s own ears flattened. “Uh, okay. It’s just, um.” He gestured and started walking back. “Just over this way.”
She picked up her pack and followed him. Behind one of the larger rocks, he led the maned wolf to a small backpack. She peered down. “What kind of binoculars do you have?”
The fox gestured to the ones the wolf was holding. “That kind.”
“Can I see?”
The fox’s tail curled under his legs. “I guess, sure.” He fidgeted a moment longer and then reached down, rummaging through his pack. “Oh, shoot. They’re…I must have left them at home.”
The maned wolf raised her eyebrows. “What’s that bottle?”
“Just something to drink.”
She folded her arms. “Wine?”
“It’s sparkling wine. For when the ships arrive. To celebrate, you know. Excuse me.” His phone had buzzed again, and he typed a quick message on it before putting it away.
She tapped her paw on the ground. “I think I know what’s going on here.”
The fox’s ears cocked straight up in the air, like radar dishes. He leaned against the rock with forced nonchalance and waited. The maned wolf tossed her head. “You’re one of those reporters.”
“Reporters.” The fox’s expression remained neutral.
“Yes. You’re doing a story. You’re probably the one who wrote that article.”
The Pampas fox nodded slowly. “So…would that be okay?”
The maned wolf tapped one paw along her arm. “You going to treat us with respect? No, like, jokes about weather balloons and childhood abuse?”
The fox held up one paw. “Promise.”
A noise sounded behind them. Both sets of ears perked. The maned wolf spun around, aiming her binoculars, while the fox took the opportunity to bring out his phone and type again. “Anything there?” he said as the maned wolf scanned the sky.
“No. Nothing yet.” She lowered her binoculars just as he put the phone away. “It’ll probably be a while. If they show up at all.”
The fox watched as she pulled a flowery blanket from her pack and spread it out, then held up a thermos to him. “Coffee,” she said. “That’s how I knew you weren’t a real hunter. Hunters pack coffee, not champagne.”
“Right.”
She peered up at him curiously. “Aren’t you going to write this down?”
The fox tapped his head. “It’s all up here.”
“Or record it?”
For a moment, annoyance flickered across his features, but he smoothed it out immediately. “Of course I’m recording it.” He patted one pocket. “What else do you bring?”
She turned to her pack. “Water…protein bars…cameras and backup batteries, of course…chocolates. That’s just something I like. Keeps the energy up.”
His ears perked up. “What kind of chocolates?”
“Just these.” She held up a small box.
“Would you mind if I took a couple? For later?” He put on a sheepish expression. “I didn’t actually bring anything to eat.”
“Oh, I…I guess not.” She held the box out. Carefully, the fox selected two chocolates with their paper wrappers and put them in his pocket.
“Thanks,” he said. “Now—hey, what’s that?”
The maned wolf snapped her head around to where he was pointing. Coming from the city, a small collection of blue, red, and gold lights bobbed and weaved. Without any reference points, it was hard to tell whether it was approaching or not. The maned wolf had her binoculars out and pointed directly at the thing. The fox’s ears were straight up, his eyes wide.
“It looks like the Tierra ship again!” The maned wolf’s tail wagged. She couldn’t seem to keep still. “My God, they’re really here! Get out your camera!”
“My…” The fox looked around. “Oh, yes. Got it right here.”
The maned wolf, intent on her binoculars, did not see him raise a pair of empty paws and mime taking a picture. “It’s coming this way, I think. It’s—it’s going down!”
The fox clambered partway up the rock, staring. Sure enough, the glimmering lights were falling down quickly. “It’s hurt,” he said. “I mean, maybe it’s been shot?”
“Looks like it.” The maned wolf followed the lights. “It’s going down in the park. Come on, we gotta get down there!”
“Um. Yeah, we do.” The fox pulled his phone out and looked at a new message. “You know what?”
The jaguar ran past them, pulling his pack on over his shoulder. Without a word to either one of them, he tore down the path. “Let’s go!” the maned wolf yelled, grabbing at her pack.
“You go on,” the fox said. “Hurry! I’ll bring your blanket and be down there soon.”
The maned wolf didn’t need to be told twice. She ran off down the path, hot on the jaguar’s tail.
The fox grinned down into the light of his phone and typed out a quick text message. Then he sat down on the blanket and looked up at the stars.
Some fifteen minutes later, the fox’s ears perked up. The fine hairs in his ears danced in the breeze. A smile curved along his mouth. He sat up straight and watched the sky. A moment later, a shadow blotted out some of the stars, gliding nearly silently on the breeze and alighting in front of him.
The bat brushed his chestruff into place over his black silk vest. He dropped to his knees and rested his clawed hands on his thighs over the rim of his tight black shorts, his wings draped to either side. The left wing puffed out gently. “Hi,” he said.
“I told you not to come straight from the rave last night,” the fox said, reaching out a paw to brush the fluttering wing.
“You’d better buy me some more glowsticks and wristbands.” The bat smiled slyly. “I guess they went after them?”
“Like a fox after a bat.” The fox’s tail wagged against the rock as he produced the two small wrapped chocolates from his pocket. “Look, they even left us a nice blanket.”
The bat leaned forward and enfolded the fox in his wings, small claws buried in the light red fur. “It’s soft.”
The fox closed his eyes. “And chocolates.”
The bat brought his short nose up to the fox’s pointed muzzle. “They smell delicious.”
The chocolates dropped to the blanket. The fox kissed the bat as the night air swirled around them. His red-furred fingers brushed the dark night of the bat’s chest.
The fox gave a soft moan, pulling back from the kiss. His eyes met the bat’s, gleaming with the reflected lights of the city in the distance.
“Take me,” he said.