The protective wall I'm leaning against shakes so hard it makes my teeth chatter, but it stays intact.

Thank the progenitors.

I wiggle a finger in my ear, and shake my head. I did not expect it to be that loud from that far away.

I’m about to stand up to check things out when debris starts peppering the surface all around us. I slink back down, cover my head with one arm and Gus with the other.

“Look out!” says Xeno.

A giant, jagged chunk lands three feet away from us and splinters into a million pieces.

“Jeez,” I say, pulling the dog in closer to me. “It’s like Godzilla with explosive diarrhea.”

Gus looks up at me with wide eyes. If he could talk I imagine him saying something like, “you humans are crazy, you know that?”

“Do not what?” I say, remembering Xeno’s warning.

“What?” says Xeno.

“You said, ‘make sure whatever you do, do not’ …”

Xeno lets out a gurgly groan and says, “Oh, forget it.”

I get to my feet just as another chunk crashes and shatters. Gus and I both flinch and Xeno mutters something about it being a wonder that human beings have survived as long as we have on our own.

I poke my head around the wall.

So does Gus.

There’s a cloud of green and blue haze floating above the detonation spot, and there’s chunks of the vessel everywhere. As we get closer to inspect, I can hear a sizzling sound.

“Yep,” I say, crouching down over the six foot deep crater we just made. “I think that worked.”

Bark, Bark!

“So I just press my hand against the inside of this like at the wall in the grotto—Ooh, that’s hot!”

“Well give it a minute to cool down, Jack—duh!”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” I say, as I take a seat and pull a racquetball from my fanny pack (yes, I carry a fanny pack now). I wiggle it around to get Gus hyped, and then toss it as hard as I can.

Gus flies away, barking happily, jumping over debris.

Ten minutes later, we do the touchy, touchy extraction thing and I’m sitting there next to the crater, staring at a shiny red marble. I pull out the green one and compare it. They’re exactly the same size and made from what looks like the same stuff. The only difference is the color.

“It amazes me that these little things can apparently send us across the galaxy in the blink of an eye,” I say. “Heck, I’m still in awe with what I can do with my hands. How do these pearls work with the platform anyway?”

“Jack, not to be condescending, but I’m about to be condescending. Your mind can’t even begin to grasp the scientific concepts behind instantaneous interstellar trav—”

“No, not the science.” I roll my eyes. “I’ll leave that to you. I mean how do I use them, once we have all the parts? Is there a button to push, or …”

“Oh, well, let’s wait to close that fridge when we get there. There's a series of procedures and protocols and I don’t want to confuse—”

“Cross that bridge,” I say.

“What?”

“You said close that frid—nevermind.”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

Bark, Bark, says Gus, sliding into my leg and dropping the ball.

I lean forward and scratch his ears. “Good boy,” I say, taking the ball and tossing it again. “Alright, Xeno. Well, we’ve got the platform and two of the marbles. Where’s the next one?”

“It’s actually not that far away. It was automatically ejected the moment the first of the rockets struck. But it went further southeast. You might be able to see it from where you are up there.”

I stand up and shield my eyes from the sun. “Where?”

“Look eastward,” says Xeno. “Maybe if you squint. Squint harder. Don’t you have binoculars—you know what? No, you’re going to have to travel further east to see it.”

Gus slides into me again and drops the ball.

I pick it up, sigh. “Come on boy, let's go for a walk.”

—•—•—•—

I'm sitting on the precipice, my feet dangling over the edge of the busted up vessel clutching my newly acquired binoculars, scanning the sprawling valley of southeastern Utah. I’ve got to be at least two-thousand feet up, if not more. Like I said, this ship is a mountain. The actual mountains stand proudly in the distance, a testament to nature's artistry. It took us a solid hour to trek here from the demo site across the top of the vessel on uneven surfaces, but Xeno insists this is the best spot to view our next destination.

"Was that canyon there before the earthquake?" I ask, gesturing with my left hand. “That's not the Grand Canyon, is it? That’s huge.”

"No, it wasn't," Xeno replies. “That one, and that one way over there, are what your geologists and semi-attractive TV meteorologists would call a catastrophic fault rupture.”

"Wow," I mutter, awestruck. "I'm speechless. Did this happen everywhere?"

"Your planet just had a brawl with its own magnetosphere and barely made it through. Frankly, I'm surprised the damage wasn't worse. But brace yourself—the earthquakes aren't done. You'll be feeling aftershocks for a long time. Not to mention volcanoes and hurricanes and—"

I lower the binoculars. "Wait, I thought you said that was the grand finale."

"That was a major structural shift, Jack, but your world is still adjusting to its new tectonic and magnetic orientation. It'll take time."

I groan, raise the binoculars again. “So more people are going to die, is what you’re telling me?”

“Natural disasters often have that effect, yes.”

I wipe my brow and squint behind my binoculars. "I don't see what you're talking about. There's nothing sparkling out there."

"Because you're not looking in the right place. Nope, not there. Further south. Keep turning. A bit more—there. See that glint in the distance?"

I adjust the binoculars' focus—it has incredible range for a handheld—and a shiny object comes into view.

"Oh, wait. I think... I think I see it.” I stand up. “Yep, that’s got to be it. I … Oh no...that’s not good."

“What?” says Xeno. “What’s not good? Wait, tapping into your visual sensory feed now.” There’s a pause, then, “Oh. Oh, that’s a lot of people.”

Near the horizon, at the edge of the valley, a massive green crystal juts out of the ground. Even from this distance, its immense size is evident as it towers over the hundreds of tents and vehicles gathered around it.

“Looks similar to the one you crushed my house with.”

“I’ll just keep reminding you that that was unintentional.”

“Same routine as the other two, right? All I have to do is get close enough to touch the crystal and you work your magic to suck the marble out?”

“I … I don’t necessarily suck anything—

“You know what I mean ...”

“There may be a certain spot I need you to make contact with, which I’ll have to determine as we get closer, but yes, the next marble, as you call it, is in there for sure. I can feel it.”

“There’s two buildings right next to it. See that? Looks like a gas station and something else. Why are there so many people? Well, I guess they’re all there for the novelty of the crystal.” I say, answering my own question.

“Uh, duh,” says Xeno. “Humans are disturbingly curious creatures.”

“You’d think the government would have had that spot locked down by now or something. Oh, There’s a stage over there too. Or, at least it looks like a stage. It’s hard to tell, but it looks like they’re … putting on a show?”

“I’m not surprised. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about humanity from scouring your brain, Jack, it’s that you are all obsessed with entertaining yourselves, no matter how dire the situation.”

“Huh,” I say. “You know, this might be my chance to get my five-thousand. Where am I at so far?”

“I don’t know, I’m not keeping track.”

“Yes you are.”

“Okay, fine. You’re at … nine-hundred and—”

“There’s no way.”

“Alight! Fine, forty-seven, are you happy?”

The dog bumps up against me, sniffing at my pocket. I pull out a couple Slim Jims and he scarfs them down.

I put the binoculars down, squint, and let out a sigh. A moment passes in silence as we all consider the task before us.

“I bet a lot of those people are homeless now,” I say.

“And out of jobs,” says Xeno. “But I guess that’s what you humans do when tragedy strikes—band together around an alien artifact and apparently perform folk songs for each other.”

“Sounds about right,” I say.

“You humans are so weird.”