A Christmas Miracle on Dewdrop

"It was your announcements," Bebe's voice again assured, "as you gave the Christmas concerts in our village. Before the Visitor in the Sky disappeared. You said to watch for anything unusual or strange."

The Visitor. It had flared in space on what Old Melon had called 'like clockwork' in perfect twentyfourths off and on. For a month, a month that crossed Christmas. And it had moved, it wasn't still, it had neared Home. But as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. Sirena still believed it, something, was in its place, and that it drew closer, but with Old Melon's eyes failing and unable to confirm and the New Melon and most other Melons disagreeing, she'd not pushed it. She and the other singers and storytellers had upped a schedule already busy for Christmas to frantic pace to visit and reassure everyone, but she'd added her own extra message. She wasn't alone in her suspicions, but with the Old Melon's ill health, his agreement carried little weight. But now?

"Yes, you've done well. Please continue, Goodwoman Bebe," Sirena said and the woman nodded and her posture shifted to assert confidence. The singer shifted to encourage her, equals now.

"We have one of those," she pointed to the crystals and smiled, "and found a flight of pterodactyls to follow so we were confident we'd have a good hunt."

"So it is you I have to thank for the exquisite abalone I ate last night?" Sirena spoke quickly into the slight gap with a hopeful but educated guess. "You follow the pteros because they gather where the mackerel schools come to the surface. And that's where the abalone will be found."

Normally such an interruption would be considered rude but even the dour man smiled that someone like Sirena would know THAT. Bebe laughed and let out an amused hoot. Even Nigel's mouth gaped in surprise. As to the pterodactyls, they were bad-tempered flyers but too small to bother adults but if they were around no one left infants on their own. At least one thing made sense. Nigel's family were brokers, they collected and marketed the catches from some of the southern villages so it made sense this couple would know the father and so approach him for guidance. But guidance for what?

"Yes, Sirena, you know much about us. I only wish I knew how you sing so beautifully," her face conveyed her honesty and the singer nodded, "we followed and found the school near a far island beyond our usual waters. The island isn't even named on our maps! But we set our anchor in a cove of the island where the school wouldn't come to lead the pteros onto us and we hunted all day and captured abalone. As the sun was setting the mackerel and abalone went deep like they do and we settled into the cove, we planned to stay another day to fill our sacks and that's when we saw it. The last light of the sun glinted off of something along a side of the island we hadn't bothered to visit, just above the tide line. We know that raw crystal is very valuable, if we found some our profit would be..."

She smiled and shook her head, Sy hooted. Sirena followed suit. Not enough to retire, but, for such a couple it would be significant. But suddenly Bebe's expression went grim and her voice lowered.

"But it wasn't crystal," she said, "it was... well, you warned us. That's why the boy said to come to you, and why we agreed. Sy, show her."

He shivered before he shifted the pouch and held it open. Bebe reached in and pulled out something mostly white. It was half the length of her forearm and had a jagged edge, like it had been broken from something longer. The woman held it out and after a moment's shock Sirena took it.

It was smooth. Very smooth. She rubbed her hands on it, it wasn't metal. It was softer, not like wood either. If she pressed against it her finger would just dimple it. It was a very flattened oval with a black stripe at one rounded end, the jagged and seemingly torn end showed it was hollow. An odd shape. It had... oh, like a fin? Thicker on one side than the opposite. What?

"Is... is there more? Is this the end of something?" Sirena tapped at the tear, the jagged edge had sharpness to it.

"Yes," Bebe said, "this was broken off. It was on top of a dead pterodactyl whose head was almost cut off and there is blood all over... this. It's like they fell together into the sand. It was too large for us to bring with our full load of abalone, but we threw the ptero to the crabs and pushed it further above the tide line and put rocks on it."

"That was very smart, Bebe," but the rest... it made no sense, Sirena didn't say the last out loud. But maybe. Pterodactyls attacked other flyers, even each other, they were cranky beasts at their calmest. But, on land? But. If this thing were... another flyer?

"That is not all," Bebe drew her attention as she pulled the second item from the pouch, "what we saw reflecting. This."

Sirena's jaw gaped. She didn't care. Plenty of her 'sophisticated' acquaintances would call these two 'rubes' and be embarrassed to show such an emotion to them. She didn't care. Bebe's hands held the largest and most perfect crystal she'd ever seen. It was broader than her palm and the cylinder that held that crystal was made of metal and that strange, white substance like the other piece. The cylinder was a bit longer than her fingers and had a second crystal near the opposite end from the first and like the other item a jagged edge showed it had been torn from something larger. The second crystal had a crack through it but that was no surprise given the signs of violence. That at least one wasn't cracked was a miracle.

"Please, Sirena, tell us what this is?"

Drone Down

"What happened?" Jane Tennyson, the civilian governor, jumped as the view on the video screen spun wildly before it flashed a digital checker board of blacks, whites and greys before it went black. Captain Gravesen sat at the rear of the table next to her and fought to hide his smile. He'd seen this footage. It had been a panorama of a beautiful blue ocean that surrounded an island that was little more than an apparently dead volcano that stuck three hundred meters above that ocean and was covered by greenery. Ahead of the drone had been a flock of flying creatures who swooped and dove at an ocean surface that bubbled and splashed with a massive school of fish. It was a scene that could've been filmed on Old Earth.

Almost.

"We've analyzed the last seconds frame by frame," said Qiao Hanying, "and we're quite certain it was one of these."

He tapped his pad and the screen changed to a still of the flock of 'birds' before it literally pulled one of them out. It popped out of the flat screen into a holographic view that slowly rotated over the center of the long table.

"Oh, wow, that is one ugly... bird? Reptile?" It was one of the civilians seated around the wall in the largest conference room on the big ship. Assents echoed.

"Pterodactyl?" Offered Lucia Ferrero, the crew's climatologist. The various crew science heads, with their putative ranks, were mixed in with the civilian leaders who'd been awakened. Like the Governor they had that pallor common to the recently awakened and most sipped a high-electrolyte juice. The image on the screen had feathers. Some. But its wings were largely skin. It's head didn't have the back crest from the Earth fossils of the creatures, but its beak was long and pointed and appeared robust enough to deliver a solid blow.

"Just over a meter long but a wingspan almost twice that," said Renee Taylor, chief biologist, "and if I had to classify it, definitely on the bird spectrum. They fly, they don't glide. See that throat sac?"

The area below and just behind the head glowed with a red highlight. Various of the watchers grunted.

"They're not eating the fish, they're collecting them. That means their nesting grounds are elsewhere. They likely follow these schools and gather as much as they can carry, fly back to their young."

"Not on this island right here?"

"No," said Taylor, "the drone had already circled the island, nothing but trees and that little beach, likely the high tide line. It's relatively isolated so wherever they've come from, and it could be multiple, it's a long trip. I'd asked for the drone to start at that bigger island, near the lights we've seen, but now, well... the probe's AI in orbit tasked the mini-drones to follow them when they leave but who knows, we might lose those too. And they can only communicate when the probe's overhead so can't send much without the master drone."

"Back to the drone," said Gravesen, "Hanying, please."

"Sir. Now, watch the flock," the hologram returned to the flock feeding, "they're dive fishers. But, right... now."

Two of the creatures seemed to get in each other's way and they immediately forgot about the fish and went at each other. A short and brutal fight saw them splash into the water with no loss of enthusiasm for the battle.

"Bad tempered, it would appear," said Tennyson, "how nice."

"If you want bad tempered, ma'am," said Taylor, "wait until we get to Dirtball." The governor snorted and Hanying paused the action.

"We're pretty sure one of these creatures saw the drone, after all, it's only a bit bigger than them and easy to see. We've detected no advanced tech so saw no reason to operate in stealth. It attacked from above and likely damaged the transmitter. We assume it's crashed. Frame by frame appears to show the beak and other bits. The probe's AI has directed all probes to maintain further distance but so far these are the largest flying creatures we've seen."

"Initial survey," Taylor picked up, "we have fish of many kinds, from smaller than what's in this video, all the way up to medium whale size. Other than these and smaller 'birds,' nothing land-based so far. We've been able to sample a number of bodies science drones found washed up. Incompatible with humans. Nothing poisonous detected so far, but diarrhea would be likely. But, it can't eat us either although these ptero-birds might give it a shot and we've seen fish big enough to definitely be dangerous. We've identified at least one large pack hunter, all in the file."

"Killer whales, except not air breathing. As to vegetation," Taylor continued, "commonality all life so far from matching DNA heritage. Lots of cellulose, but we haven't sampled fruits or seeds yet."

"Okay then," said Tennyson, "thank you. Anything else of note?"

"Not so far," said Auvray, "plenty of volcanoes and hellacious tides with the two planets so close, but with such small pieces of land, settlements will have to float and agriculture will have to be aquaculture or well, high intensity artificial."

"Taylor," Gravesen said as the biologist stared at Auvray and began to speak, "let's move to Dirtball. Show the Governor the welcoming committee."

Taylor held her breath for a moment and exhaled slowly, her face tight. But then she nodded and tapped at her pad and the pterodactyl was replaced.

The room was suddenly loud with exclamations and a couple of mild curses.

"This isn't a joke, is it Captain?" Tennyson's voice was friendly but carried a warning.

"No, Governor," he said, "Dirtball has dinosaurs."

Taylor tapped at her screen and a herd of very large quadrupedal 'dinosaurs' walked slowly across a landscape of trodden grass with fern-like bushes and a mixture of trees. Smaller versions of the beasts walked amongst their parents, the largest formed the outer cordon. Trills, chirps and soft roars were regular enough to almost indicate conversations.

"Just calling these guys brontosauruses for now," said Taylor, "since, well, four huge legs, long neck and tail, little head. Just smaller, about twenty meters long. And these are plant eaters."

"Evolution had a problem here too," said geologist Devesh Lohani, "solved it the same way."

"So," Tennyson said, "does that mean---"

"T-Rexes? Yes," Taylor tapped her pad and the Brontosauruses were replaced by a beast that elicited gasps, "ten meters long with the tail, carries itself upright, tail balances the head."

It bent and tore a hunk of flesh from a dead dinosaur held down by a powerful and clawed foot, its dinner another apparently bipedal creature of some sort. The victim was about two-thirds the length but clearly less bulky than the 'T-Rex' and its head indicated its neck had amazing flexibility or it'd been snapped. The flesh of the creature was dark pink and its blood was red and ran down the predator's jaws. The quadrupeds had been a matte brown with a few darker areas but this victim was a matte green with darker camouflage patterns that hadn't saved it.

"Drone arrived after the actual attack," Taylor said, "but the AIs favor it was an ambush attack. This bad boy likely hid in that copse and there were plenty of footprints so we guess he jumped a small herd and the rest escaped. Analysis indicates it might even be able to hit 30 kph. We'll track these guys carefully. And."

The scene spread and showed a couple of different packs of smaller predators. Or scavengers who watched but kept their distance. Like the T-Rex, most were more colorful than the herbivores.

"The lion, well, with those stripes the tiger, and hyenas," added Lohani, appreciative sounds at the large beast that was more yellow than orange but with uneven vertical black bands, "but something quite interesting. Just like he, or, well, she's, dining, so could we. No idea what they'll taste---,"

"Chicken," one of the civilians said, a joke beyond old before humans had even ventured to the stars. Groans and friendly threats resounded. Lohani laughed and let the clamor die down then continued.

"Initial analysis on a few corpses indicate we could eat the flesh. Same with plants. Well, we suspect some possible allergens, but there's no commonality in DNA to what's on Dewdrop."

"No apparent intermixing between these planets," said Taylor, "they've been isolated from each other."

"So no advanced technology? But I thought you'd found some sort of radio signal?"

"Maybe," said Hanying, "still looking."

"Given the lack of oceans on Dirtball," Taylor said to break the extended silence, "the 'dinosaurs' are pretty well global, although not many creatures of any size in the widespread deserts. Climate's warm, no ice caps and with the CO2 and other stuff, greenhouse effect keeps it nice and toasty. But, about a thousand kilometres from that T-Rex we found this. Hills going into mountains and heavy forest. This just came in and we've hurriedly processed it, so it's preliminary. But it's important."

The tabletop panorama echoed her statement before it zoomed to the sparser trees at the edge of the forest. A half dozen brightly coloured small scavengers tore at a corpse of what seemed to be a quadrupedal beast about the size of an Earth rhino or hippo and more approached or stood nearby. There was much screaming amongst the diners.

"So it's a dead dinosaur," said Tennyson, "another T-Rex get it?"

Taylor zoomed in on the body, large sections of flesh had been removed, so much that leg bones and partial ribs were visible. She slowly rotated the view.

"Taylor," Gravesen's voice had gained an edge, "it's dead. Why are we---."

"Shit," it was one of the civilians, and the Captain glared quickly, "I'm a doctor. That corpse has been... butchered. Those cuts are... too square. And those missing ribs, they were cut. Must be for the marrow, same as Earth. That T-Rex was shredding its victim, jagged cuts and bones will be scattered."

"Bingo," said Taylor, "someone, well, someTHING, used knives to carve this animal and hauled the meat away."

Only the sounds of the cranky scavengers remained.

Island Hopping

Swegl had risen. Sirena nodded to acquaintances and others who recognized her but around home she was familiar enough to pass without comment. She'd sworn her visitors to secrecy and Nigel had finally been roused and promised he'd lead them to a guesthouse near his family's home. Their successful catch on its own merited a day of relaxation and a nice restaurant. They'd not leave until the next day.

She knew why Sy had clutched the bag as he carried it. No one could see its contents but its hold on her was undeniable. She'd sworn to the couple that they'd be rewarded but they'd trusted her to negotiate for them. There was little doubt the Margaret would get involved with such unprecedented items, which complicated things. A 'normal' crystal find had well-established metrics and would simply be handled by the Melons based on size and clarity, rarely needing even the New Melon's attention. This was so far from normal Sirena didn't know the words.

To confirm her commitment she'd handed the couple one of the pieces of metal from her hobby table. Such was much rarer than even crystals but its value varied. Most of it was bendy, what Old Melon had taught her was 'malleable,' and usually just served as unique jewelry or such. Bebe's and Sy's faces had immediately gone to somewhat forced gratitude as she'd picked up the item, their use for trinkets low, but once it was in their hands they'd hooted sincere apologies and even distress.

This was a piece of hard metal. The kind that made durable knives. Everyone carried a knife made of black crystal, it didn't even need a Melon to craft one and the material surrounded them. Madagascar was practically made of the stuff and had spewed more when it had burped years back. Sirena touched the one at her waistband in its scabbard decorated with nacre and shell. Like everyone, she'd learned from childhood to use it against predators. Not that it would do much against a shark or orcas, but was fine against cudas and squidleys and others. She'd also heard of people needing to use one against another person! How could that happen? In any case, they were sharp and common but brittle.

The couple had almost panicked when she'd added a whetstone to the trade. Old Melon had schooled her on the 'h' that made the word 'whhetstone' and not simply 'wet.' Whatever the pronunciation the couple were aware of its necessity in turning the metal into a knife.

"If you cannot craft a handle properly," she'd told them and they'd confirmed, "I know a Melon who can. He's promised to do it, I'll simply tell him it's for me. He doesn't even know what my face looks like, he just looks..."

She'd cupped her breasts with her hands and hooted. It'd seemed impossible but Nigel had gone even more rigid but Bebe's hoot was amused but tinged with that bit of understanding only a woman would have and had broken the couple's spell.

"But keep the whetstone," she'd continued, "I have more and after the knife is done I will show you how to maintain it."

Negotiations done, they'd nudged at Nigel until he'd snapped from his trance and he'd led them off. Sirena had put the items on her hobby table and paced, sleep forgotten. She'd decided on her next step but it was too early, Nigel had been cunning, or more likely blindly lucky, to have come so early. But more people were out when they left, those with duties that roused them with Swegl or simply those who enjoyed the quiet time. Her mission would be noticed. So she'd forced herself to wait.

She stopped at the Old Melon's door and glanced around. She'd fortunately not seen the New Melon or his closest compatriots but she'd chosen her approach carefully. The few people she'd needed to say anything to had simply accepted her story that she was visiting the Old Melon. Their friendship was widely known and with his illness likely fatal soon no one would think her visit to be unusual. She rapped her knuckles on the stone at the curtained entrance.

"Trisha," her trained voice could create a soft call that she knew carried in only the intended direction , "may I enter?"

Her eyes went wide and her body stiffened when the curtain slid aside and a man's face filled the gap.