A Storm in the Making

Chapter 8--The Crystal Planet

Chapter Eight

The Crystal Planet

Waking up was not hard. The pain demanded it. The raised voice of my uncle demanded it. Remembering where we were—on some alien planet far, far, from earth demanded it. So, I didn’t linger in the misty realms of sleep where I desperately wanted to stay.

Reluctantly, I opened my eyes and tried to push myself up into a sitting, less vulnerable, position. However, a warm hand weighed me down. Julius’s hand. I should have known.

Memory of the stairway, the god-awful pain, that dizzying drop off the side of that flight of steps, and the powerful arms that swooped down and caught me as I fell, flashed back. I glanced up at Julius.

Julius paid no attention to me. Instead, he focused on the ensuing argument going on near where I lay. His hand across my chest was more an afterthought than deliberate.

I recognized Uncle’s raised voice loud and clear throwing hell about something. I turned in the direction of his voice, and got another shock. Uncle being held firmly between the two blue-skinned bodyguards I’d seen earlier up on the hill. Where Luke and Andrew were, I hadn’t a clue.

“My niece needs a real doctor,” Uncle bellowed at Dr. Spinner, as he flung back the hood that had chosen that moment to slide down over his face. He tossed his head around like an enraged bull trying to get it off. I’d never seen Uncle so pissed off.

His robe gaped open in his struggles, and I saw some kind of big clunky necklace around his neck. Red, blue, and black rocks that looked like some sort of crystals glittered with every move Uncle made.

Where did the necklace come from?, How had they talked Uncle into putting it on? Did they bother to ask his permission? The questions chased each other around in my head. I had no answer to any of them.

“Calm down, Mr. Weatherly!” spat Dr. Spinner, offended. He drew himself up and threw out his chest like an ancient rooster. “I can assure you, Sir, your niece is receiving the best medical care this planet has to offer. My Son has been a healer longer than you’ve even been alive. He’s healed wounds far more grievous than these broken ribs of your niece’s.”

Uncle managed to toss the hood back far enough to glare viciously at Dr. Spinner. “My niece needs X-rays and a real hospital. Not some juju beads around her neck, and a magic spell or two recited over her body by some alien shaman!”

I reached up a hand to my throat. I could feel some kind of clunky necklace—it felt like rocks wrapped in wire--probably the same as Uncle’s; fastened tight around my neck. No wonder Uncle was upset. If this was their healing methods, I hoped I never had to have surgery in this place.

Julius moved his hand to my shoulder and rubbed it absently in a soothing way meant to reassure me. He’s still reading my mind, I thought, too focused on the argument to do much more than shrug his hand off.

“May I remind you that you are not on earth anymore.” Dr. Spinner struggled to remain calm. He sniffed indignantly, and rubbed his nose as if he’d smelled something disagreeable.