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- Herausgeber: BookRix
- Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
- Sprache: Englisch
On the small island of North Ronaldsay things were not going well.The storms were increasing and sea level was rising. The last inhabitant was contemplating a bleak future. Then the pods appeared.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016
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There were three of them slowly descending, perfectly aligned with each other in a tight triangular formation. Each pod was the shape of an M&M, each was a silvery colour.
Their radius was about the width of the barn.
There was no engine noise, just a slight hum and, as they landed the hiss of escaping gas.
About middle way up the saucer were a line of windows and the outline of a hatch.
At this point Callum passed out and the whisky and some wine forby meant his system just shut down.
It was a cold clear morning and fortunately for him the sun spread a little warmth.
When he opened his eyes they were still there, three silver shapes. He sat up.
As the sun hit their sides the pods changed colour; one turned blue, one turned red and the third one turned orange. With a hiss each opened a hatch which as it hinged down slowly revealed, on the inside, steps built in, like some aircraft doors. He waited. Nothing else happened. After waiting ten minutes he approached gingerly.
No sign of movement at the windows. Closer and closer he got.
Beyond the pods the flat field stretched away to the shore dyke and the shore itself.
The sea was quiet today, waves lazily curled onto the rocks. He could hear seals calling.
He drew closer. The wind got up. He only had on a lightweight anorak.
The pods now stood above him about six feet off the ground. The step to the orange one was near. The sun darkened as a rain cloud began to spatter drops off his face. His body said shelter.
He stepped onto the hatch stair and tentatively walked up.
The interior was lit by a series of small lights. Beneath the oval windows couches like sun beds lay along two thirds of the wall pointing inwards. The rain lashed down, a typical North Ronaldsay sea squall.
He scrambled into the pod, hovering near the door just in case the hatch started to close.
From the door way he watched the rain stotting of the steps – beyond in the field stood a lichen bearded standing stone.
He sat down on one of the couches. Comfortable.
He listened to the sound of the rain drumming on the roof.
What would it be like to fly in one of these things up and over the land and sea? He lay back. Soon he was dozing, dreaming.
He could see his island as if in fast forward- the sea rising, the dyke collapsing, the sheep getting in – now they were all over.
The people getting less 60, 50, 40, 20, then the pods arriving out of the sky, red, blue, orange.
The last 20 walking up the steps; old men, women, a few young mothers, children, and he was leading them, reassuring them that it was safe.
And when the last one was aboard, he saw the hatch doors close and the pods begin to hum.
Slowly they lifted off in unison in a triangular formation and then shot off, skimming across the sea towards Westray.
Callum struggled out of his dream, still vivid in his mind. He checked his surroundings. He was still in the pod. He sat up.
Was his dream prophetic; was this what the pods were for?
